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Yo Regelt (Hungarian "good morning"),                April 14, 2004

"Where are you headed this time?" asked my former supervisor Jon Vrana, prompted by the sight of a backpack over my shoulder.

"Italy and Switzerland," I said with barely constrained glee.

Pausing for only a moment, he retorted in good humor, "Well, I may go to Walmart this weekend."

I've long sensed the hazards of name dropping my destinations (place-dropping), hazards proportional to the imagined glamour of a place.  Saying for example places like Venice and Rome prompts a different response than had I said Moldova, another of the destinations on this journey, which someone less geographically knowledgeable than Jon might simply imagine to be some unappealing place in rural North Dakota or perhaps some nearby suburb with a good crafts fair.

Okay, Moldova is not high on anybody's list of vacation destinations, but as it turns out, it is my penultimate European country, the 42nd of 43 on that continent, leaving only the former Soviet Republic of Belarus for some future adventure.  

After an enjoyable eight days in Italy and Switzerland with my mother, I am on my own, returning to Eastern Europe for the umpteenth time.  People wonder why I keep coming back to a region not so appreciated for its tourism appeal.  Some still with a Cold War mentality suspect it to be evidence that I am some kind of double-life spy.  Actually, it has more to do with the fact that Eastern Europe is cheap and I am cheap.  After paying $10 for a cup of coffee (that's right, $10 -- I should've asked beforehand) on Venice's San Marcos Square, and $38 for a lunch in Switzerland, there's a lot to be said for an 80 cent draft beer in Budapest.

Aside from the bargain prices in Eastern Europe, I think the tourism potential for the region -- with the exception of hot spots like Prague and Budapest -- remains
under-appreciated.  Above all, I keep coming back because, in spite of the bad press from occasional or ongoing ethnic animosities in some parts, my own experience has been that the kindness and hospitality of people here are nearly unmatched in the world.

It's been nearly 15 years since the Berlin Wall fell, but it still doesn't require a trained eye to know when you've crossed the boundary from West to East.  Huge strides have been made in Eastern Europe, and yet the differences from the West remain striking.  Modernization is spotty, especially outside the big cities, and it will probably be decades before the infrastructure differences are no longer so noticeable.

Seventeen years ago, when I first visited Romania, buildings were covered with multi-story photos of megalomaniacal President Nicolas Ceaucescu.  These days, those same buildings are covered with multi-story images of half-clad women marketing global brand names like Sony and Pepsi.  When I first visited Bucharest, people were suffering from hunger because President Ceaucescu had exported most of the food supply to finance his grandiose projects, such as his palatial
residence, which was still incomplete on Christmas 1989 when he and his wife were summarily executed.  These days, it's clear that many are still living on the financial edge, though food at least is plentiful.  Long lines for bread and milk have been replaced with shorter lines for pizzas and Big Macs.  The whole region could do with a good coat of paint and some new roofs and windows.  Aside from decaying infrastructure, one of the most visible new problems is the
large number of stray snarling dogs roaming the streets.  Romania was hoping to join the European Union by 2007, but its debts are mounting, and it seems to be on a much slower track than other East European nations.

Meanwhile, Moldova vies with Albania for the status of the poorest European nation.  Albania's long term prospects are probably better than Moldova's due to its access to the sea and notable natural resources such as oil and nickel. By contrast, Moldova is landlocked and even more dependent upon agriculture, with 40 percent of its population still engaged in that activity.  Foreign investment in Moldova has declined to almost nothing, and most of the money coming into the country is in the underground economy and from overseas relatives sending money home. Few foreigners want to invest in a country that has changed its government nine times in eleven years.  Official corruption remains a big problem. I was harassed by a border guard looking for a bribe when I was leaving the country, so that sort of thing doesn't help the country's image.  The conflict with the breakaway province of Transdniestr has been calm since the early 1990s, but remains unsettled. Though primarily agrarian, Moldova is the most densely populated of the former Soviet republics, and has cleared nearly all of its forests for agriculture.  One local with whom I spoke, a natural resource specialist who published a book on Moldovan ecology, considers the country something of an environmental disaster.  Meanwhile, it seems the press would have you believe that Moldova's biggest export lately has been young desperate women sold in
nearby countries under various forms of sexual servitude, often by being conned by unscrupulous racketeers.

Having said all that, a visit to the capital city of Chisinau gave me the impression that things are somewhat better than the previous paragraph sounds.  Modern shopping malls and trendy restaurants and are crowded with customers.  Lots of people seem to have nice new German or Japanese cars. The educated young have abandoned their rural villages and are driving rental prices sky high in the city.  Most speak some English as well as Romanian and Russian. Many of the more
established folks can afford to have comfortable weekend homes (called dachas) in the countryside where they proudly lord over often impressive gardens.  

Moldova has some notable attractions for tourists.  Many cultures have passed through and left their mark on the region. Medieval monasteries have survived all forms of invaders and, more recently, Soviet oppression. Thanks to my host Svetlana, I spent an extraordinary Easter Sunday at one such peaceful monastery in the company of monks where, rather than fasting and observing an ascetic lifestyle, we gorged ourselves with a gluttonous feast and copious amounts of Moldovan cognac and wine while enjoying the live a'cappella sounds of 4-part medieval harmonies sung by the monks.

Moldovan wine is well known internationally, and Moldova features perhaps the most extraordinary winery on the planet, a labyrinth of underground wine cellars in natural limestone caves that stretch for over 60 kilometers! Unfortunately, they were closed for Easter weekend when I was there, but I understand that it is possible to drive your car through these cellars, along underground roads named for various wines such as Str. Merlot, Str. Cabernet, etc.

Back in Romania now, Dracula would be rolling in his tomb if he knew people like me were using his house to have a brew of barley and hops rather than of blood, but here I am.  Actually, I am not referring to the Dracula of the Bram Stoker novel, but rather to Vlad Tepes, the impaler, a 15th century national hero who was called Dracula (son of the dragon) and upon whom the legend was supposedly inspired.   Vlad would impale his enemies (mostly Ottoman Turks) on wooden stakes through their backbones, carefully avoiding vital nerves so that the victims would be conscious through the torture for two days or more.    His home is now a restaurant, and the whole region celebrates and markets him in a big way, as exemplified by plans to open up a Dracula theme park.

I've written too long and run out of time.  From here, I am on my way to Bosnia Herzegovina for a few days.  

Below are some selected photos of the journey thus far.  Click on the links, if you are interested.

Arrevadare (Romanian "goodbye"),

Deano

Rialto Bridge, Venice
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0095_2.JPG

Dean at San Marcos Square, Venice
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0110_2.JPG

Gondolas in Venice
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0115_2.JPG

Some of Rome's many ancient ruins
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0159_2.JPG

The Coliseum, Rome
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0172_2.JPG

Glarus, Switzerland
(The capital city of the region where my great, great, great grandparents lived.  They moved to America in 1866).
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0193_2.JPG

Engi, Switzerland
A small village of 600 people near Glarus, where many generations of my ancestors were born and died between the years 1580 and 1866, and perhaps before that time).
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/italyswitz/DSCF0188_2.JPG

Near the neo-gothic Parliament building, Budapest, Hungary
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/hungary/DSCI0010_2.JPG
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/hungary/DSCI0025.JPG

On an escarpment with friends in Orhei, Moldova
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/moldova/DSCI0078_2.JPG

A gluttonous Easter feast at a monastery with my host Svetlana, the head monk, an Australian acquaintance and Svetlana's brother.
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/moldova/DSCI0085_2.JPG

The changing face of Bucharest, Romania
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/easteur/DSCI0011_2.JPG

Views of the medieval Transylvanian town of Sighisoara, Romania (Vlad "Dracula" Tepes birthplace)
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/moldroman/Dsci0046_2.jpg
http://deanoman.com/photos/eur04/moldroman/Dsci0061_2.jpg

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