Nightpie's Travels

One-third of being a Peace Corps Volunteer - actually the one-third that lasts for the rest of my life - is sharing your overseas experience with Americans back home. To that end, since returning to America I spoke at my old high school, Kittatinny, gave an interview to my local newspaper, and scheduled a presentation at the Rotary Club in my hometown. I hope that through these activities, and informal conversations with people I meet each day, I can share a little of what I've learned in the Peace Corps.A note about the article: unfortunately the internet version doesn't show the 6 pictures that were published, one of which was spread across the entire front page, but it still has a couple of typos. Overall, I really liked it.I also had a blast at my old high school. Despite the fact that there were only a couple of school days left, and the seniors I spoke to certainly had other things on their minds (graduation, summer, FREEDOM!), I think some of them really enjoyed it. And giving out candy for asking or answering a question probably didn't hurt.

It's the morning after my first night in my own bed at my parent's house in New Jersey. It was probably the most restful night of sleep I've had in a long time - didn't wake up once.Even though I actually ended my Peace Corps service on May 9, and left Moldova at 4am that day, I didn't return home to NJ until the May 19. I flew from Chisinau, Moldova to Frankfurt, Germany to Atlanta, Georgia to Tulsa, Oklahoma over a total of 23 hours.Along the way, I met several Moldova college students who were headed to America for summer jobs through a program called Work and Travel Since I speak Russian and English, I was able to help them fill in their travel documents and direct them toward their connecting flights in Atlanta. I hope they have good, and profitable, experiences in America. I know the fees to get into these kinds of programs are quite high, and many of these students will only earn minimum wage. I've never met anyone who finished such a program, so if anyone can comment here about a past experience, we'd all like to read about it.Once in Tulsa, I had a few days to readjust my internal clock before hopping in a car to help Krista drive to Rochester, NY where she'll start an accelerated nursing program. In Rochester, I learned how my parents must have felt when they took me to college - so many things to buy and do in order to settle in!Then I flew to NYC, met my cousin at the airport, and sped away to King of Shish-Kabob, a Dakake family hang-out. I had wanted to surprise my parents, so I never told them that I was in America. They thought I was still in Moldova and would be returning on May 21st. My whole family was in on the scheme, so I hid in the bathroom when my parents came in. I waited for them to sit down, and then came out saying, "There's no toilet paper in there - do you guys have any napkins?" My Mom's chin hit the floor she was so surprised.So now I've got lots of unpacking to do, housing to find in Philadelphia before school starts at Wharton, a couple weddings to attend, houses to paint, and a million other things.It's good to be back, but I do miss my friends in Moldova and look forward to going back to visit in a few years.I haven't decided what to do with this blog. I'll probably leave it up for others to read and learn about Moldova and Uzbekistan and Peace Corps, but I doubt I'll be making further additions. If I start a new one about the "adventures" of a business school student, I'll post a link here.ps - A few days ago, I received word my village won a grant (that I wrote) from the US Embassy in Moldova. We had already received funds for redoing the local TV station, but needed additional moneys for a new transmitter. Now Copceac will have its own independent local media source.

A German Rotary Club recently sent three of its members – Joachim, Reinhard, and Juergen – to Copceac in order to lay the groundwork for two projects they will be funding. I've been emailing with them over the last couple months to help set things up, and it was nice to finally meet them. The first project will replace many of the old, drafty wood-frame windows in one of the schools with modern, double-pane, plastic-frame ones. The other is a water project, which will connect a well with three water towers that are 2km away. This will greatly increase the water available to the village. At least until I leave for America, I’m to be their eyes and ears on the ground as these projects move forward.During their visit, I was occasionally surprised by their surprise that someone from America (me) would be living and working in Moldova as a PCV. Over the course of their visit, we talked about a lot of things including the current administration in America. Other than Moldovans, this was the first time I've really discussed America's reputation with Europeans. Although this probably isn't news to the readers of this blog, it was a bit of a shock to me to see first-hand how far America's standing has fallen since the outpouring of sympathy that came following 9/11.One Rotarian mentioned that he always liked America because following WWII, he remembered receiving packages from the States with good food and nice, warm clothes. Isn't it amazing how those gifts so many years ago helped shape an opinion that has lasted so long? I wonder how long the aid given by the American people to the world will continue to mold opinions in light of current events? So what does this mean for me and the Peace Corps? I think it makes our work to attain world peace and friendship much more difficult, and perhaps more important, to say nothing of the threat of terrorism. Though there are only a few people in Copceac who think that I am a spy, some of them are good and intelligent people (who unfortunately have the completely wrong idea about my mission). Can you blame them? If I lived in a country that used to view America as its enemy, and at least partly blamed America for the fall of the USSR, and now saw an America that waged unpopular (if not simply unjustified) wars, what would I think if an American showed up in my village with some vague humanitarian goals?

From my own experience, mostly in college, when I didn't know what I was talking about I bs-ed. I think it's a human defense mechanism: when we don't want to be embarrassed by our lack of knowledge or understanding, we tend to puff ourselves up and try to convince ourselves and others around us that we know what we're doing [see current White House administration for demonstration of this theory]. In college, I tried to use big words and important sounding sentences. I fiddled with the margins, font size, and font type to make a 3-page paper reach the minimum 5-page length. Some of the papers I wrote were good, but some were garbage (and unfortunately for me, some of my professors knew this, too). Fast forward six years, to my recent attempt to help a friend translate a document from Russian to English. The specifics are not important; suffice to say it was a description of an organization. I felt like I was reading one of my old, bad papers. There were grandiose and complex sentences that might initially impress, but actually said nothing. There were no concrete, measurable goals – only vague ideals of a pseudo-utopian society. Of course, I'm not completely without responsibility for this literary "un-masterpiece." I did the translation and type it up. Though I tried to inject my translation with planer language, in the absence of the original author I couldn't do much toward creating anything with a clear strategy for how to bring about social change. As an excuse, I can only say the deadline was nigh and time was short. Sounds just like the excuse I used in college.

Usually the Orthodox and American (or Anglican? I’m not sure of the proper term) Easters fall one week apart. However, every few years – including this year – these Easters are on the same Sunday.For the most part, people get together and eat. This in and of itself is cause for celebration for many who were fasting over the last few days, or not eating meat for the last 40 days. Next week, everyone will go to the cemetery and picnic at the graves of their relatives, as documented here last year.For my part, I had a very relaxing and enjoyable Easter. I had invitations to lots of places. I'd like to think this is because of my natural charisma, but I'm sure a large part is due to the fact that as the lone American, I'm a bit of a celebrity. In the morning, I had a huge breakfast with my host-family. Then, I headed to my friend, Feodr's, for a little English practice and another feast. Next, I rolled up to Dada Borei's (Uncle Bob's) for a sit in the sun and some snacks. Then on my way to Ludmila’s, two men I didn’t really know invited me inside for dinner. Not being in any rush, I obliged. Finally, I took my leave and went to Ludmila's for more eating, this time coupled with a fun debate with one of her guests about which country was richer: America or Russia. I don't think either of us were convinced of the other’s position, but it was fun to try. Lastly, returning home around nine, my host mother tried to stuff even more food into me. I ate a few cucumber slices and went straight to bed. The weather was gorgeous the whole day. On Monday, I also had the day off, and I basically lounged the whole time. I also made significant progress toward completing the Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. His basic argument is that events – the drop in crime in NYC during the 1990s, the comeback of Hush Puppies as hip footware, or even Paul Revere's midnight ride to warn American colonists of a British attack – are really epidemics shaped by three things. Those three things are:1. People, who come in three different subcategories a. Connectors: Individuals who know a lot of other people b. Mavens: Individuals who know a lot of information c. Salesmen: Individuals who can persuade2. Stickiness – how memorable is the message3. Context – in what situation is the message deliveredI was reading the part about context on a bench outside my gate when I had an epiphany. Before I explain my insight, first a little more about Malcolm's argument. If we look at Paul Revere's midnight ride, one of the reasons he was able to gather the colonists to fight the following day against the British was simply because of the context in which his message was delivered. Simply by waking up someone in the middle of the night, pounding on a door, that person automatically attaches a greater import to the message than if it were delivered during normal working hours. [Revere’s mission was ultimately successful because his message was also "sticky" – The British are coming! – and Revere was a Connector – many of the people with whom he was speaking already knew him.]Another example mentioned NYC's drop in crime in the 1990s. Of course there were many reasons, but one seemingly small cause that may have had the greatest effect was cleaning the graffiti off subway cars. The context of the city’s transit system was one of dilapidation. By the so-called "Broken Window" theory, when someone sees a broken window in a house, they automatically assume that no one cares about fixing it, and therefore no one will care about other infractions of the law. By fixing the window, or by cleaning the graffiti off the subway cars, officials greatly reduced the spread of the crime epidemic. Potential criminals were much less likely to commit a crime if they found themselves in a more orderly environment.Next, NYC cops went after fare-beaters. It was a seemingly tiny crime, costing the city only $1.25. One could argue that at a time when murderers, rapists, and thieves were everywhere, it was a significant waste of a cop’s time to arrest and spend a day booking someone who simply jumped a turnstile. But what the cops soon learned was that for every 10 fare-beaters arrested, one of them had either an outstanding warrant or a concealed weapon. By going after the little guys, they were actually catching big criminals. And, as the public caught on that even small infractions like fare-beating would not be tolerated, the entire context of the subway system changed and crime dropped significantly.The old view of causes for crime – which Malcolm and I certainly don’t dismiss – are that they're related to education, racism, infrastructure, etc. All these are big things that require huge amounts of resources to change and years to take effect. They are daunting in their size and complexity. Yet by doing something simple – cleaning off graffiti and arresting fare-beaters – NYC made its mass transit system, and later the entire city through application of similar methods, a lot safer.So, what does this have to do with Moldova? A couple weeks ago I was in Tvarditsa, a village that was clean and ordered. Now I'm back in Copceac, where garbage is strewn helter-skelter on streets and fields. The seeming insignificant act of tossing an empty bottle on the ground has an effect on the way people who later see it perceive their environment. Does it make them take less pride in their village? Does it lead to a sense of hopelessness, that things can never get better or that one can never have a better life or gain new skills? Does it make them more likely to believe that they can get away with a crime?I don't have any statistics to tell you if there are actually any connections, but I found it very interesting to read about the power of context in creating change, and found it comforting that big change need not come from big events.

For those who don't know the story of the Tower of Babel, I'll give you a quick rundown… Back in the day, all of mankind spoke one language. Folks got together and decided they would build a huge tower to heaven to skip life and get right to the good stuff. God disapproved, and so He caused the people to speak in different tongues. They no longer understood each other, couldn't work together, and the tower was abandoned or collapsed or both. [If a greater scholar than I wants to give a better history in the comments section, go ahead.]The first time I watched director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's latest film, named after the ancient tower, I did so without subtitles. I thought I remembered reading an article somewhere that said he had deliberately chosen to go without translations of the Arabic, Berber, Japanese, Spanish, and sign-language in order to highlight the barriers that separate us. If the audience struggles to understand, then they're more participants in the story than simple observers – or so the theory goes. Turns out, I never read such an article and somehow created it in my mind, mostly because I didn't notice the "Turn Subtitles On" button in the program on my computer I was using to watch the film. Oops. Believe me, the second time through (with subtitles) is much better.This film and the story from which it derives its name are in some ways strikingly similar to my current situation. Yesterday, I went to the university in Taraclia, a city about a 5-minute taxi ride from my village center. I've lived in Copceac for a year-and-a-half, but it was only a week ago that I learned that there was a university nearby, and only yesterday, when I ventured there on my own, that I discovered an English Department there AND that from 1992-94 some woman from Kansas served as a Peace Corps Volunteer there! Am I speaking some different language? How was I never told about this? Granted, some of the blame lies with me because I never asked anyone, "Hey, is there a university in Taraclia?" Then again, I also never asked anyone, "Hey, is there an underground Olympic-sized swimming pool with an unlimited supply of chips and salsa in Taraclia?" Maybe I should.More striking to me was a question I asked several of the students I met in one English class. "How many of you speak Gagauz?" Not a single hand went up. In Copceac, five minutes away, the primary language is Gagauz. But in Taraclia, nothing.This was, of course, only one class and not a true cross-section of the Taraclia population, which I know has significant numbers who do speak Gagauz. Nonetheless, it was surprising to see that in such a small area, two villages should have as many languages. That would be like everyone in my hometown of Fredon speaking Spanish, and five minutes away in Newton everyone speaking Chinese. I guess I never cease to be amazed by the number of languages spoken in such a tiny area. Romania, Russian, Bulgarian, Gagauz, Ukrainian, and some study English and/or German.

As many already know, I will be leaving Moldova to return to America in about two months. This brings on a mix of emotions, not dissimilar to how I felt a couple months from entering the Peace Corps. Then, I was reluctant to leave friends, family, and a familiar way of life. Who wouldn't be? But at the same time, that reluctance was outweighed by my sense of adventure and desire to make a difference. I was going to live in a country – first Uzbekistan, and then Moldova – that few foreigners and fewer Americans ever see. I was going to meet and help new people, face and overcome challenges, learn a new language, and see parts of the world that would (I hoped) forever change my perspective.Now, I find myself in a nearly identical situation, but reversed. In Moldova, I have friends, I have important (albeit intermittent) work, I even have pointy-toed Moldovan shoes. It will not be without some sense of regret that I leave these behind. On the other hand, I'm getting pretty excited to be back in America. I'll see old friends, spend time with my family (including a niece due to arrive in July!), and begin down a new career path at business school. It's a mixed bag in wanting these next two months to fly by, and to creep along.Either way, they will probably be busy months with 2-3 more Poosk seminars, a close-of-service conference, a grand birthday bash, visitors from Germany, more computer classes, moving to a new family, packing, finishing up the TV station project, and all the little details that go along with transitioning across seven time zones. I'll just try to enjoy the ride.

First, a moment of silence for the passing of Captain America, my favorite comic book hero. Apparently, he was shot and killed a couple weeks ago (although how many times have comic book heros come back from beyond?) For those who don’t know, Captain America started out as a fairly scrawny lad, unfit for military service during WWII. But, he had heart, and so volunteered to test a special “super soldier serum.” The serum gave him super strength, and he went on to have many adventures attempting to do what most superheroes do, save the world. The way Captain America got his start is, in my opinion, a bit silly – nothing more than glorified steroids. I stopped collecting comic books when I was about 13, and I can’t say I’m any kind of expert concerning Captain America or that I’ve kept up with his exploits as of late, but I always liked him for his unbending idealism and honesty. He was a real straight shooter, in contrast to other, perhaps more questionable heroes/vigilantes like the Punisher or Wolverine who tended to meat out justice with a heavy hand. Even Captain America’s “weapon,” an indestructible shield which he could throw like a boomerang, was essentially a defensive instrument that could be used offensively when necessary. In a world of gray Captain America was about as close to white as comic book heroes come, and I, for one, will miss him. When I get home, I’ll have to dig out some old comics and relive a bit of my childhood.



Anyway, this blog is supposed to be about my Peace Corps experience, so let’s get to that. Now that the weather is getting warmer and the earth is less frozen, a lot of digging is going on. My host-brother, Vitalik, dug a new toilet and covered up the old, full one. People are planting potatoes and onions in their gardens, and trimming grape vines to encourage new shoots. One of the schools here dug a new well, and I helped out a little one day. These projects are basically carried out with a shovel, bucket, and a rope – very different from the mechanized digging of wells in America. At the school, how many people showed up to help struck me. A few of the workers were being paid, but many were simply the fathers of school children who wanted to make things better for their own. I admire that.March 8th marked Women’s Day. This is similar to the American Mother’s Day, except that it’s for all women. I had a great time at a concert held in one of the school auditoriums. The local dance troupe performed several times and lots of people sang. The singing is a neat experience because everyone in the audience seems to know all the words to these folk songs. I’d imagine it would be like in America if we all sang “This Land is Your Land” or “Home on the Range.” But I just don’t think we have that sort of culture. Oh yeah – I also got up to sing. There were performances in Russian, Gagauz, and Romanian, so I started out by saying that as March 8th is an international holiday, it was only fitting that there be a performance in English as well. I then proceeded to introduce the audience to the wonder that is The Stray Cats’ “Rock This Town.” I think everyone got a kick out of it, and the whole concert, including my performance, has been replayed several times on the local TV channel.Bryan and Amy came to Copceac for the weekend to run another of our small business Poosk seminars. Since it was on my turf, I was responsible for all the logistics. I was really worried that all the kids who had signed up to attend wouldn’t show, but on our first day we actually had well more than I had anticipated – actually it made the seminar a bit difficult to conduct with so many people in the room. But, fortunately (???) we had the typical attrition rate so days 2 and 3 were a bit more manageable.

Participants this time came up with creating a movie theater, a pizzeria, and a gym. I thought all of them were good ideas, though each needed to be a little clearer or do a little more research regarding their projected budgets. Nonetheless, the fact that they’re simply making budgets BEFORE beginning a project puts them well ahead of their peers and even some NGO directors. [One such director from another part of Moldova refuses to make a budget for a remodeling project because he/she claims that the costs can only be known once the project is complete.]This seminar was the first time that Bryan, Amy, and I gave real feedback to students on their presentations and awarded a prize to the group that did the best job. In the past, we simply asked questions as a way to expose weaknesses in the presentations because we didn’t want to offend or discourage participants. Ultimately, we decided that the educational value was worth it – if we don’t flat out tell these students things like (a) not to look at only one person during a presentation, (b) not to have your back to the audience when presenting, or (c) that their budgets are unrealistic, who will?I really liked having guests at my house, and look forward to an upcoming shared birthday party with Bryan and Amy. Coincidentally, the only three PCVs living in Gagauzia, who happen to be the same three PCVs who run Poosk, also happen to have their birthdays on April 13, 19, and 23. Small world.

Passports are a big deal in Moldova. Unlike in America, which comparatively has a relatively stable passport system, the documents that Moldovans carry have varied greatly over the years. During the Soviet times, all citizens of the USSR carried Soviet Union passports. When that system collapsed in 1991, those documents became (for the most part) invalid. As former republics declared their independence, they also had to create a new passport system (not to mention a billion other kinds of infrastructure, all of which had previously come from Moscow). Most reading this blog have waited in line to renew a driver's license or applied for a passport in America; it takes time and can be a frustrating process. Now magnify that by 5 million citizens of Moldova all applying for new documentation at the same time, add in a non-computerized system, and you can understand why trading in USSR passports for Moldovan ones can take so long to get.Everyday, several people from my small village come to the mayor's office to apply for some kind of documentation to get an ID card or passport. Many also travel to Romania or Bulgaria to apply for dual citizenship. Why? Since these two nations recently gained entry to the EU, and their citizen may travel freely without visas to any other EU nation. This can be a huge boon for Moldovan citizens looking to find a better-paying jobs abroad. Not only do they need not apply for an expensive visa, but they don't have to return to Moldova every three months when the visa expires (or continue to work abroad illegally). Wait times to get these second passports sometimes exceed three years.One last interesting thing: a Moldovan passport lists your "ethnicity." By this I don't mean Caucasian, Mongoloid, African, Latino, etc. Rather, one must include one's ancestry, such as Ukrainian, Romanian, Russian, etc. This is not done in America. In my passport, it nowhere states that my family has Italian, Syrian, and Russian roots. Why does Moldova do this and America does not? I think because it simply matters less in America, the (supposed) "melting pot" in which peoples of all nations come together as Americans. In Moldova, I think individuals still much more strongly identify with being Bulgarian, Gagauz, Russian, Ukrainian, or Romanian.One woman at our last Poosk seminar explained that when her mother applied for her Moldovan passport, she had to choose between listing Romanian or Ukrainian heritage. The woman chose Romanian, and thus her last name ended wish "-ii." Had she chosen Ukrainian, her last name would have ended in "-ay," the feminine ending which exists in Russian/Ukrainian, but does not exist in Romanian. When her daughter came of age to get her own passport, she wanted to chose Ukrainian because her father was Ukrainian, but it would have created all kinds of difficulties should her mother ever need to provide permission for anything because their last names would be different - one ending in "-ii" and one ending in "-ay." So, now they both list Romanian heritage on their Moldovan passports.

For those loyal readers of this blog (all three of you), I apologize for my posting hiatus. I was on vacation in America, and when I’m on vacation, I’m on vacation. That being said, it was a bit of a working holiday, and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to tell you all about it…I left on Jan 31, flying from Chisinau, Moldova to Budapest, and then after a 5-hour layover, to JFK. Everything went remarkably smoothly. The airline food was plentiful and tasty, the plane was nearly empty so I could stretch out across three seats, and I even made a new friend.While I was sitting in the Budapest airport, someone asked me for the time, which started a conversation with a 30-something man, Keiran, who happens to be a former-PCV. He served in the second group of volunteers to go to Mongolia, back in 1992. I told him about my previous vacation there last summer to visit a current PCV friend of mine, and later emailed him some of the photos I had snapped. We spoke on the plane for a couple hours, and it was really interesting to hear from him how Mongolia had been when he was there, his life post-PC, and how he is still in touch with many of the people with whom he served. [This last tidbit bodes well for a potential Uzbek-18 reunion, perhaps in January, 2008.]My folks met me at the airport, and we stopped on the way home to get some Chinese food – awesome. I nearly fell asleep halfway through the meal as the jet lag set in.The next day I took in the changes in my house since last I was there: my Dad painted the family room (looks really good, and I’ve already signed up to help with the rest of the house when I come home), there’s a new chair in front of the TV, and Mom has several new paintings that adorn the walls. I also drove – yes, driving a car for the first time in two years – into town and there discovered that there’s a Hilton Hotel, an Applebee’s, and a 10-story apartment complex.Every time I come home there’s always something new, some good some not. I do appreciate things like having a Staples and a Blockbuster in town, but it’s a shame to see so many shuttered shops along Spring Street in Newton. There are, however, some new success stories along the main street, like the Chocolaterie, started by a local couple, that imports fantastic stuff from Europe and recently opened a second store in New York.I was home for a few days in Jersey, just getting my bearings, sleeping, and eating. My extended family came to visit on Superbowl Sunday for some bagna cauda, the most amazing meal you could ever eat and a Dakake family tradition. As per usual, it rocked and I gorged myself.Then it was onto the working end of my vacation: train rides up to Boston to see Harvard Business School, then to NYC to check out Columbia, next to Philadelphia for a special Wharton Winter Welcome, and then on to Washington to celebrate my nephew’s 5th birthday. I really liked traveling by train. The seats were wide and comfortable, plenty of storage space overhead, it’s a smooth ride, there’s electricity sockets, and no need to go through all the hassle of “checking-in” as one must at an airport (to check baggage, get your ticket, and go through security). I bought my ticket online and then printed it out from a kiosk at the train station in about 20 seconds.I’ll say this for the schools: they’re all amazing institutions with a diverse group of intelligent students. Some of the high points for each school, in my opinion, were that Columbia has the added bonus of being in NYC, Harvard is its own awesome compound, and Wharton students are really involved in all aspects of the school.Although I was initially concerned about seeing three schools in as many days while I’m supposed to be on vacation, it was definitely a good choice. I was able to sit in on classes, tour the facilities, talk with students, and get a general sense of each school. Should I be admitted at more than one place, I will now be able to make a more informed decision. I am definitely leaning toward one place at the moment, but I’ll wait to hear from each school, particularly their financial aid departments, before making a final decision.In DC I met up with my folks, David & Maria, Krista, and Gabriel. My nephew is more difficult to carry these days, which could be a sign of his increased size (and weight) or my decreased biceps – probably both. David & Maria’s house, like my parent’s and my hometown, had changed since I was last there. There’s a different TV sitting in a different corner, new couches and a new window are on the bottom floor, Gabriel’s room has a new layout, and there’s a new toaster. And there’s wireless internet, which was very nice. I think more change is coming once my second neice/nephew is born in July.

We also went on a tour of DC monuments, mostly just driving by places like the Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, WWII, and Vietnam Monuments; Congress; the Smithsonian Museums; the Supreme Court; and most importantly, the Moldovan Embassy, pictured here.Then it was back up to NJ for a couple days. I got to make a fire in our fireplace, which I love to do. I showed Krista around my hometown and tried to eat as many bagels with cream cheese as possible. There wasn’t really time to see anyone besides family, but fear not (or consider yourself fortunate that I was so short of time), I’ll be back soon. I flew out on the 13th.Special thanks to my hosts during my tour – M&C in Beantown, Baldi & Gumby in NYC, Kevin in Philly, and Cito in DC.

As of January 1, 2007, citizens of the United States, European Union, Canada, Switzerland, and Japan can enter Moldova without a visa. I hope this will bring an influx of visitors and investment to Moldova, and any friends or family who wish to step into the village life for a little vacation. This is a good step for Moldova in terms of inching closer to EU membership and increasing its integration in the global economy. Let's hope that other former-Soviet republics (especially Russia) will follow suit.My apologies for somewhere on this blog erroneously reporting that this new law would take effect later in 2007. Somehow, I don't think I screwed up anyone's travel plans...

Taking Control of Electric Bill, Hour by Hourby David Cay JohntonJanuary 8, 2007 - NYTimesTen times last year, Judi Kinch, a geologist, got e-mail messages telling her that the next afternoon any electricity used at her Chicago apartment would be particularly expensive because hot, steamy weather was increasing demand for power. Each time, she and her husband would turn down the air-conditioners — sometimes shutting one of them off — and let the dinner dishes sit in the washer until prices fell back late at night.Most people are not aware that electricity prices fluctuate widely throughout the day, let alone exactly how much they pay at the moment they flip a switch. But Ms. Kinch and her husband are among the 1,100 Chicago residents who belong to the Community Energy Cooperative, a pilot project to encourage energy conservation, and this puts them among the rare few who are able to save money by shifting their use of power.Just as cellphone customers delay personal calls until they become free at night and on weekends, and just as millions of people fly at less popular times because air fares are lower, people who know the price of electricity at any given moment can cut back when prices are high and use more when prices are low. Participants in the Community Energy Cooperative program, for example, can check a Web site that tells them, hour by hour, how much their electricity costs; they get e-mail alerts when the price is set to rise above 20 cents a kilowatt- hour.If just a fraction of all Americans had this information and could adjust their power use accordingly, the savings would be huge. Consumers would save nearly $23 billion a year if they shifted just 7 percent of their usage during peak periods to less costly times, research at Carnegie Mellon University indicates. That is the equivalent of the entire nation getting a free month of power every year.Meters that can read prices every hour or less are widely used in factories, but are found in only a tiny number of homes, where most meters are read monthly. The handful of people who do use hourly meters not only cut their own bills, but also help everyone else by reducing the need for expensive generating stations that run just a few days, or hours, each year. Over the long run, such savings could mean less pollution, because the dirtiest plants could be used less or not at all.The vast majority of utility customers know only the average price of the electricity they used in any given month. But wholesale prices for electricity are set a day in advance, usually on an hour-by-hour or quarter-hour basis. Power companies and utilities are keenly aware of the pricing roller coaster, but they typically blend the numbers into a single monthly bill for their customers.For most Chicagoans, the average summer price last year was 8.25 cents a kilowatt-hour. Although Ms. Kinch and her husband at times paid as much as 36.5 cents a kilowatt-hour — the peak price on the humid afternoon of Aug. 2 — they paid less than their neighbors over all. On 38 days, some of their power cost less than a penny a kilowatt-hour.Other consumers who know the hourly price of their electricity have actually been able to get paid by utilities for power they did not use. In New York City last July, for instance, when there was a blackout in Queens, residents of one building on Central Park West voluntarily cut their demand as much as 42 percent and sold the capacity back into the electricity market so that it could be used where it was more needed.Certainly, such situations are a big exception. The fact that most people have no idea how much their power costs has emerged as a sticking point in the ongoing effort to restructure the nation's electricity business, which the federal government is moving from a system in which legal monopolies charge rates set by state regulators, toward a competitive system where the market sets the price.But how does efficient pricing emerge in a business where access to information is so lopsided? A market, as defined by the courts, is a place where willing buyers and sellers who both have reasonable knowledge agree on a price; in the electricity markets, the advantage lies distinctly with those who make and distribute power.Under either the traditional system of utility regulation, with prices set by government, or in the competitive business now in half the states, companies that generate and distribute power have little or no incentive to supply customers with hourly meters, which can cut into their profits. Meters that encourage people to reduce demand at peak hours will translate to less need for power plants — particularly ones that are only called into service during streaks of hot or cold weather. In states where rates are still regulated, utilities earn a virtually guaranteed profit on their generating stations. Even if a power plant runs only one hour a year, the utility earns a healthy return on its cost. In a competitive market, it is the spikes in demand that cause prices to soar for brief periods. Flattening out the peaks would be disastrous for some power plant owners, which could go bankrupt if the profit they get from peak prices were to ebb significantly.But as awareness of "smart meters" grows, so does demand for them, not only from consumers and environmental groups but also from government bodies responding to public anger over rising power prices. In Illinois, for example, the legislature passed a law in December requiring the program Ms. Kinch joined four years ago to be expanded from 1,100 customers to 110,000. The law also required that Commonwealth Edison, the Chicago utility, hire a third party to run the program. It chose Comverge Inc., the largest provider of peak- load energy management systems in North America.The smart metering programs are not new, but their continued rarity speaks in part to the success of power-generating companies in protecting their profit models. Some utilities did install meters in a small number of homes as early as three decades ago, pushed by the environmental movement and a spike in energy prices.Today, the same set of circumstances seems to be prompting a revival of interest, and even the utility companies seem resigned to the eventuality of such programs. Anne R. Pramaggiore, the senior vice president for regulatory affairs at Commonwealth Edison of Chicago, said that in the past, interest in hourly meter was transitory."We really haven't dealt with these issues for 30 years," she said.But a sustained effort to install more meters is likely now because of what Ms. Pramaggiore called a "fundamental change" in the energy markets. Rising fuel costs and environmental concerns are — once again — front and center. When consumers know the price of their electricity in advance and can tailor their use, even minor changes in behavior can lead to lower home utility bills and less reliance on marginal power plants, said Kathleen Spees, a graduate student in engineering and public policy at Carnegie Mellon."Small reductions in demand can produce very large savings," said Ms. Spees, who analyzed prices charged within the PJM Interconnection grid, which coordinates the movement of wholesale electricity for 51 million people from New Jersey to Illinois.Consumers who cut back on power use at peak times can do more than just avoid high prices. They can make money, as people in the building on Central Park West learned last summer.Peter Funk Jr., an energy partner at the law firm Duane Morris who lives in the 48-unit co-op, persuaded his neighbors three years ago to install a single meter to the Consolidated Edison system and then to operate their own internal metering system. That made the building big enough to qualify for hour-by-hour pricing. When the next day's prices are scheduled to soar, the building superintendent and a few residents get e-mail messages or phone calls. "We have an orderly plan all worked out to notify people" so they can reduce their power use during the designated times, Mr. Funk said. The residents save more than just the money on power not used during peak periods, when pricing has been as high as almost 50 cents a kilowatt-hour. During the blackout in July, when parts of Queens were without electricity for up to nine days, the building cut demand as much as 42 percent and sold the unused capacity for about $3,000. That money helps the building offer a valuable benefit: On most weekend mornings, electricity for residents is free.My Commentary:It seems that this kind of measuring is not yet available everywhere, but it is worth a little research or at least a call to one's power company to see if such a program exists in your area... or better yet, to start a local campaign to create such a program if it does not already exist. Also, in a graph not displayed on this blog, the biggest range of prices, and thus the biggest opportunity to save, occurred in June, July, and August. Most other months were fairly flat in their hour by hour rates.

[Warning: this post is a little more gruesome than my typical entries. If you're squeamish, you might want to skip reading this.]Moldovan Christmas, based on the Orthodox calendar, is Jan 7th. On January 5th, pigs throughout my village were slaughtered for the holiday feast. When I say slaughtered, I mean the pigs are brought out of their pens in the backyard, pinned to the ground by several men, and then a knife is inserted into their jugular and wiggled around a lot. The pigs squeal/scream (by no means a pleasant sound) and the blood drains onto the ground. It probably takes about two minutes for the pig to actually die. I saw my host-brother and neighbor do this with our pig, and shortly thereafter I heard the squeals of another pig further down the road. My tutor tells me that her mother's family also did the same.I watched the whole slaughtering process [inside joke with DW], which I will now relay to you. The body is the lifted up on a makeshift table or grill, and a blowtorch is used to singe off all the hairs. It takes several rounds of torching, scraping off the skin with a knife, and rubbing water and salt over the body until the skin is removed. Then an incision is made along the spine and stomach of the pig, and several perpendicular cuts between those two create a grid- like pattern over the pigs body. Pulling at one section with one hand and cutting the connective tissue with the other, the sections of fat that surround the pig's body are removed.









This fat is canned in salt and water, and is eaten throughout the year like you or I might put cheese on some bread. [I've tried this "sava" and am not a fan.]Then the rest of the pig is cut up. Legs are chopped off, the spine is cut out with an ax, after which (in a pretty amazing way, I thought), the ribs just fall open revealing all the organs inside. At least where I was, the heart and lungs were fed to the dogs, but everything else was saved. The intestines took some doing because all the digestive juices - which looked like chunky mustard - had to be cleaned out. They did this by cutting it into 1-meter pieces and pouring water through it. Then more water was used to turn the intestine section inside-out and clean it again.I've yet to see exactly how all this will be prepared, but I now know the first steps.