Living in Washington, DC exposes people to colleagues who have traveled all over the world for work. Yet, when I told my friends that for my second posting with IFES I would travel to Moldova, many looked at me as if I had suddenly given them a geography quiz, and they were failing. Moldova is a small country sandwiched between Romania and Ukraine, and while it boasts the world’s largest underground wine cellar and is known to be an agricultural breadbasket, it is still striving to establish its own identity.
As is customary when I spend time abroad, I make a considerable effort to venture outside the capital city to the rural areas of the country as conditions in the capital rarely give the full picture of the culture and living conditions. I was especially motivated to travel outside Chisinau as Moldova is said to be one of the most impoverished countries in Europe, but one wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell by walking the streets of its capital. My journey to the village of Rosu began on an old, rickety, overcrowded bus to visit a young rabbit farmer and his mother. I met my unlikely hosts through what I refer to as ‘Facebook for travelers,’ www.couchsurfing.org. Both hosts showed an incredible amount of hospitality by welcoming me into their home and giving me an opportunity to truly experience Moldovan culture, corn harvesting notwithstanding. And after harvesting and storing the corn in preparation for the upcoming winter, the farmer invited me to feast with his family where we toasted to the fall harvest over a jug of homemade wine.
While learning to cook the national dish mamaliga, the equivalent of polenta topped with sour cream and a local variety of cheese, as well as some fresh cabbage salad, the farmer and I delved into a conversation about the political and economic state of Moldova. My perception was that there was some sort of disconnect between how participation in electoral events, or lack thereof, impacts the destitution which effectively forces Moldovans to leave the country in search of greater economic opportunities. He understood that much of the current economic stagnation was due to the political environment, yet he did not feel his votes or civic participation could improve the situation. Moldova is indeed an example of how a political stalemate can stall economic progress. My conversation with him underscored the importance of civic education, of connecting issues of poverty and casting a ballot. Suddenly the extensive get-out-the-vote campaign undertaken by IFES and other international actors held more weight. Could ‘election fatigue’ take hold as a result of having four national elections in 19 months?
Although Moldova remains in a state of uncertainty, the high voter turnout for the recent parliamentary election proved that Moldovans are committed to actively shaping the future direction of their country, that election fatigue was not a factor I was completely taken aback by the generosity of the people and the beauty of the landscape, but I could see the toll that the economic hardship had taken. I left hoping that Moldovans continue to feel empowered to participate in their country’s affairs so that together, they can forge a better future.