Chisinau

We rented an apartment in Chisinau for a few days. It was a small apartment in an old concrete building. The apartment was nice and cozy; the building caught us off guard--it appeared that most construction in Chisinau is done with sloppily-laid concrete block and compared to some of the other cities we’d recently visited, there is zero ornamentation or finish. This is likely a result of years of Soviet occupation and poverty during those years and to this day. Moldova is one of Europe’s poorest countries—its average per capita income is 2,500 euro compared to @15,000 euro in Central Europe (e.g. Poland) and in the 30,000’s in Western Europe (e.g. Germany). These statistics aren’t evident when walking up the main street of Chisinau, with cafes and shops with Western European prices. We'd read that the modern side of Chisinau exists to support its upper class, whose wealth is mostly mafia driven. While we weren't there long enough to make our own evaluation, the juxtaposition of brand new Mercedes and the poor conditions of much of the city was striking.

Our apartment.

A nice statue near our apt building.

A beautiful park near the center of town, where two main parks lie kitty corner of each other: St Stefan cul Mare and Cathedral Park. There were a lot of people strolling and hanging out on a warm fall afternoon.









One night we visited the huge main market in the center of town. It was a mix of indoor and outdoor stalls, all devoted to different items—smoked meats, cheeses, vegetables, poultry, grains, basic household supplies, you name it. We made our first home cooked meal in a month, pork chops, caramelized onions and rice, with delicious pickled salads from the market: carrots; curry cauliflower; grilled eggplant and mushrooms. It was nice to enjoy a home-cooked meal.


















While in Chisinau, we visited the university library to look for an old map of Bessarabia, in hopes of finding out where Sucaron once was. They were very helpful and accommodating and sent us to the national library nearby. We were guided by a young women named Dorina, who told us her story of getting lost in Montana trying to find the town of Whitefish as she escorted us. At the national archives, this time with a cool teenage kid as our translator, we didn't get very far. We decided to visit local bookstores, get a map of the country, rent a car, and head out to discover the country on a road trip.