Leaving on a Jetplane...

Jessica Leaving for Egypt
Originally uploaded by Zakcq.

I leave on Monday for Cairo! I'll feel I have the best job in the world! Not only do I get to go to Egypt all expenses paid, but I'm even getting paid to be there! It's all part of my co-op job that I've had for the past six months. I'll be assisting the professor that I work for in leading twenty undergrads to do research and attend lectures in Cairo.

We'll be in Cairo most of the time, but we'll also visit Alexandria, Aswan and Luxor. I'm so excited!

My Impressions of Moldova

1. It's Europe!
Chisinau is a European city: the architecture is European, the fashion is European (moreso the men's fashions), the atmosphere is European. I don't know why I expected anything else, but I was surprised that I saw so many things (architecture, clothing styles) in common with Berlin.

2. There is a different dynamic between men and women than in the U.S.
In Moldova, men always help a women get out of a vehicle, carry her bag (even a purse), fill her glass before it's emptied (whether it be wine or cognac- you can imagine how easy it is to drink a bit too much!), and give kisses on the cheek instead of shaking hands. It almost seems old-fashioned to me. Being treated in such a way (being treated like a lady?) was cute and quaint at first, but I think it would get frustrating and old after a while. Of course, to Moldovan women, this is all completely acceptable and desirable behavior.

3. Women wear pointy shoes.
I felt very plain and frumpy in my round-toed shoes. I've never before seen such long, pointy shoes with dangerously high heels. Sometimes the toes also turned up at the point.

4. The people work very hard for very little pay.
We were working with young teachers/lecturers at Moldova State University. They teach often five to six classes a day, six days a week. Besides the time spent in the classroom, these teachers need to prepare lectures for five or six different lectures every day. The average professor in the United States would teach 2-6 lectures a week. That's a huge difference (granted the professors in the U.S. are also expected to be doing research and have advising and administrative duties). In Moldova, for all their long hours, the teachers get paid about fifty dollars a month. This forces people to live at home in their twenties and sometimes in to their thirties.

5. Items were more expensive than I had expected.
Some things were very inexpensive. A ride on a maxi-taxi was only twenty cents. Food was also inexpensive- although there was not a great variety of fruits and vegetables. However, clothing prices were comparable to the rest of Europe. Obviously, someone can not afford to buy a sweater for forty dollars or some jeans for ninety dollars when he or she only makes fifty dollars a month. I asked Irina, a Moldovan teacher, how she was able to afford such expensive clothes, and she pointed out that she had knit the sweater she was wearing. The sweater was gorgeous and looked like it came straight from H+M.

Chubby Pigger

Our baby is getting fat. We noticed today that he is wider than he is tall. I know exactly who is to blame. Zakcq spoils him! Every time he starts to squeak and hop around, Zakcq caves in and gives him lettuce and broccoli. Moritz used to only get fresh vegetables once a day, now he can usually manipulate Zakcq into giving him lettuce three or four times a day. Seriously, Moritz recognizes Zakcq unlocking the door of our apartment and gets all worked up because he knows what's coming. He wigs out every time the refrigerator opens! Something has got to be done.

Flattery

I was walking home in East Boston this evening when a man called out, "Excuse me, excuse me." This caught my attention right away, since most of the time I hear something more like, "Hooolaaa Sinoreeeeta."

"Are you from Europe?" He asked. "No, but I lived in Berlin for a while," I am never slow to admit this connection I have with that electric city.

Admittedly, this is an odd question to ask a stranger in the street. I was intrigued.

"You have great European style." Well, that is most definitely my superficial compliment of choice- he had won my attention.

"You have great European style. I'm from France. I like your style. You have beautiful eyes, too." The eyes thing had gone a bit far for my comfort level, and I knew where this was heading....

"Well, tell you husband that he is very lucky man. I don't know what to say, tell your husband that he is a very lucky man."

It's nice to get a compliment from a strange Frenchman on the street, even if I am taken.

Definition

There is an immence amount of pressure that comes with writing the first entry on one's first blog. It is a first impression. It defines who I am. It sets the tone for what my blog will become. This pressure has, in fact, delayed the launch of la bostonienne. Z actually set up the blog for me. Thinking of a name was just too much. So, the names, colors, set-up do not represent my preferences, necessarily, but his perceptions of what I prefer.

What should be the topic of my first essay? I could write about something so completely superficial as the article about Jennifer Aniston in this month's Vanity Fair. However, this tiny curiosity about the life of this cultural icon does not fully express who I wish to portray to the world.

Conversely, I could post one of the papers I have written in the past year. The Cypriot conflict, Ghanaian political culture and the Noam Chomsky's views on the War on Terror could make interesting topics. But they can also be a little dry and impersonal.

I could write about strange things I see around Boston. For example, a seventy year old man made an interesting display of social rebellion one morning as we were both waiting for the T. An announcement which has become quite frequent since the London bombings had just been played over the loudspeaker. "This is the MBTA chief of police...now, more than ever, it is important that you, the riders, be observant of unauthorized bags...so, if you see something, say something." The old man grunted, and took out a white paper lunch bag. On one side the bag said "If you see something, say something, like SHUT UP!" The other side of the bag said "unauthorized bag." The man proceeded to put the bag on his head, as I stared in bemused disbelief. Something I would expect from a rebel in his teens or twenties was coming from an elderly man. I laughed (maybe a little too loudly) but I was also pleased to see that he was willing to break from the social norms to promote his ideals- whatever they may be (refusing to be a slave to fear? or authority?)

Anyway, I enjoy reading everyone elses blogs, so I thought I might contribute a bit. I hope I've made a neutral first impression so that I can shape who I am through future entries.

Peace,
Jessica