Ialoveni Suburbia

Written 9/20/06 Wednesday.

Today Michelle, Annie and I decided to walk around Annie's and my neighborhood. Like I've said, Annie and I lucked out and live in what I call the Ialoveni suburbs. We live with indoor plumbing, hot water, and insulation galore. The other trainees placed in Ialoveni have pretty decent living conditions as well, especially compared to what it sounds like those placed in other villages have to deal with (such as instead of an outhouse toilet, they use an outhouse hole-in-the-ground, no running water at all, etc.), Yet a few of the other Ialoveni trainees still do have to go outside to poop, and not everyone turns a knob and enjoys a heated shower. So basically, Annie and I live in luxury, and we really, really are grateful for our housing placements. While we both were prepared before leaving for Moldova to alter our lifestyles to survive in potentially uncomfortable conditions, we both agree that the accommodations we live with are really great to have.

The neighborhood, if it can be called a neighborhood, is really interesting. The houses range from huge to medium to shacks. Throughout the neighborhood there are land plots with cement skeletons of new properties being built, or old, overgrown yards surrounding stone walls of a dream-home's earliest stage that stand today as they were once started and untouched in years. There are medium homes with clotheslines, dirt roads and yards. Some houses have gardens and grapevines; others have animals, a few have both. Some houses are falling apart, and others are in the process of renovation. But then there are the mansions.

"The mansions" look like Farmington Hills and maybe even nicer. Ok, they look like West Bloomfield, except the houses are oftentimes bright colors such as yellow or green, or have some intricate stone mosaic design on the siding. The houses copy American homes in grandeur and seclusion, but look very European (duh, Amy, aren't you IN Europe?) with architectural design borrowed from the Italians and the French. These homes are the entire Western world pureed together in a vulgarly eager way that only Moldoveans can appreciate. The mansions are scattered throughout the neighborhood alongside the skeletons and the common home. These monstrous abodes are securely gated and some of them have grass, like, green American-style grass with landscaping. A few have garages, some have fountains, and others have wrap-around balconies. All of them are equipped with the same state of the art security systems: dogs at the front gate. No two look alike, but all do share a common gaudiness and flare that screams modernity and prestige, or so the owners hope.

My house is a potential mansion-in-the-making. Annie's house is a potential mansion. Annie's host family's son's house, located next to mine, is a mansion. It is yellow, has a manicured lawn, and Annie says the inside dŽcor is ultra-modern and is impeccably clean.

So one has to wonder, what's with this fucked up set-up of fancy finished homes next to run down homes next to moderate livable homes, on uneven, unpaved roads, in the middle of cornfields and an enormous apple orchard? Why is the area as a whole so unkempt, but the bursts of progressive living so immaculate? I've come to a few conclusions and an analogy.

Moldoveans are like Americans; they too have dreams and goals that for many take lifetimes to attain, if at all. These goals and dreams, like ours as westerners, include wealth, comfort, and the good ol' motivation of keeping up with The Jones's. So what does it take for our average Adrian Moldovan to reach his goal of living in an enormous, colorful, western-inspired dream house, or something close to it?

First, Adrian Moldovan better have good work ethic. Unlike Americans, most Moldovans don't hire contractors to build their houses for them. Most often Moldovans do the building themselves. The owner builds everything in the house with help from his family or buddies, or if the owner can afford to, he hires help but works alongside.

The second thing Adrian Moldovan needs is money. The costs of necessary building materials are not cheap. Plus he wants good insulation and hardwood floors, and the hardwood isn't just pop-in-place Pergo like in America, it's a prized, and expensive, component in Moldovan homes.

So, Adrian Moldovan has the work ethic, he's willing and able, and he wants to make lots of money, but he struggles to find good paying work in Moldova. The economy is somewhat unstable. Adrian Moldovan, and/or his wife/sister/mother Svetlanca Moldovanca, temporarily leave the country to find work in other places like Italy (and Western Europe in general,) Russia, Greece and Israel. Annie's host mom, Maria, asked Annie the first day we arrived if she spoke Hebrew. Maria lived in Israel for eight years. Telling by her name she wasn't there for religious salvation. I told my mom about Annie's host mom living in Israel, and because my mom understandss the ways of the world, she immediately said "she was probably cleaning houses." Annie and I found out later that was exactly what she was doing in Israel until the police caught her without a proper work visa and sent her back to Moldova, with pockets full of Shekels to be converted to Lei to build her son and herself huge houses with. Additionally, Maria's son and wife also made their own money when they worked in Italy. Many Moldovans work in other countries, and almost every family has at least one member working abroad at any given time, which leads to an abundance of single parent homes (and divorces) in Moldova. Italy is popular because the language is close to Romanian, and it seems Italy is pretty lax about illegal workers' cheap labor. Most men work in factories, as mechanics, and as construction workers. The women work as housekeepers, nannies, or do factory work. The Moldovans in Italy are like our Mexicans in America, no?

Yet there are Moldovans who stay in the country and try to make a good living the honest Moldovean way- doing odd jobs, using their car as an unofficial taxi, importing/exporting without the government's knowledge, selling goods at the markets, and basically making cash any way they can. (Obviously there are official jobs and positions in Moldova, but I am generalizing for argument's sake, and going off what I've noticed thus far, in this town.) Another possible way for a Moldovan family to earn a nice chunk of cash, as in the case of my and other trainee's host families, is being paid quite well for hosting a Peace Corps volunteer... These in-country working Moldovans can live well, especially if they have their own animals and garden for sustenance, as my host family does.

Now back to the houses. Homes can remain in a constant state of renovation for a long time, decades even. Those who make enough money working in another country can come back and finish their homes entirely. Perhaps some of the abandoned-looking stone skeletons could very well be the early stages of a home that will be completed when the owner returns from working abroad however many years down the line. But those who are currently working, or continually making a little money here and there, start or improve parts of the home only to the extent that can be afforded at the time. In America, it's common to finish the house first and then move in. In Moldova, when the house is erected and somewhat livable, the moving in happens first and the improvements later.

A lot of pride is taken in the Moldovan home. My host house is unbelievably clean, and doesn't feel unfinished though there are many obvious projects-to-be in the home, including hardwood flooring, fresh paint on the walls, furniture, etc. My host family keeps talking about how they are poor, which to me seemed weird because my first impression of their house was that it was huge and quite nice inside. Now I understand they say they are poor as relative to their neighbors in the finished, fancy mansions. In a small community like in Ialoveni, everyone knows everyone else's business, including the successes of those who earned the money to build and finish their homes. Just as Moldovans express their dignity and pride in their appearance, so too do they through their homes and though it is unspoken, everyone wants to be envied by their neighbors. Moldovans want to build a home to be proud of and ultimately be left for their children. In the case of Annie's host mom, Maria, she was sure to build and finish her son's house first and is there cleaning daily while her own house is disorganized and somewhat dilapidated as it is still very much in the process of renovation. Her son is her source of pride, and his house reflects her achievements as well as his own.

The analogy that came to me while walking through my neighborhood is that the homes are much like the stars in the solar system. Some of the homes, like stars, are just being born, some are growing and progressing though gradually, others are shining brightly at their life's peak, while other homes were born and then burnt out before ever maturing. There are plots of land that is yet to be touched, and areas that have been built and rebuilt on. Each home has a story behind it, or a family inside it. The homes' structures and histories, plus cultural influences, convene to form a community's very own small scale solar system in "the suburbs of Ialoveni."