Surviving winter, granny-style
Journo Birds: December 27, 2023
Welcome back to Moldova Matters! This article is written (and filmed) by Journo Birds. Moldova Matters is collaborating with Journo Birds to bring their great content about culture and life in Moldova to our readers. You can follow Journo Birds directly on Medium, youtubeor facebook.
Last winter was the hardest, and the scariest Moldovans have seen for a long time. How did they survive? We knocked on doors to find out.
Prices in Moldova soared like nowhere else in Europe - more than 30 percent - in the past year. Energy costs rose more than seven times for gas, and four times for electricity. The Russian military attacked the Ukrainian energy infrastructure, causing electricity blackouts in Moldova.
The sheer incredulity of these events almost made it feel like a plot from a science fiction movie.
But this is what Moldova's winter looked like last year. Around 60 percent of the people fell into energy poverty, according to the UNDP report. Families often had to choose between food and warmth.
We went into the countryside and knocked on doors to ask how people survived.
Heating homes
Donduseni district, north of Moldova, is only a short drive from the Ukrainian border. We found a quiet street in a village and looked for grandparents to collect their wisdom. Nobody was around but one drunk-looking elderly woman digging in her garden.
A younger couple in their 40s appeared, and we asked them about grandparents. "There is nobody here!" a woman with a high bun and red-colored lips told us. All the houses looked inhabited. A dog barked in the distance. Nothing indicated that this village was dying except for, well, the lack of people.
"Everybody left. Most of them, when the war started," the woman exclaimed and advised us to cross the river. The other side of the village is more lively, she said and zipped her leather jacket.
Across the river, we found Alexandru and Veronica Rusu's beautiful house. The pinkish bricks and white window frames hinted at good times and the stories this house could tell. The Rusus have two children abroad - one in Germany, the other in Moscow. One granddaughter lives with them.
Alexandru happily opened the gate. Guests are usually warmly greeted in Moldova.
Alexandru explained that he started preparing for the winter two to three years in advance. The heating is the hardest. He collects the leftovers from the corn harvest and dries them. He goes to the hills to pick up the branches. He also buys wood. Last year was no different.
His grandparents used to mix cow manure with hay, mold them into bricks, and leave them to dry for the summer. These bricks - called "tizic" - are then thrown into the fire to heat the houses. It's the costless bioenergy Brussels could only dream about!
While speaking to us, Alexandru adjusted his hat and grabbed his shovel. There was no time to waste. He started loosening the soil, preparing it for planting in the spring.
In the village, many still have cows, chickens, and pigs. In their garden, Alexandru and Veronica grow all the vegetables themselves. Carrots, garlic - everything for a soup!
Pensions are low - about 190 euros monthly on average across Moldova. But since most of the food comes from the garden, they don't need to spend much. Some families only go to the store for sugar and salt. Many children living abroad send money back home, too.
Veronica invited us to pancakes with white cherry jam she had just fried as if she had expected us. We drank hot tea in a warm room and couldn't ask for more.
But we were here to learn and not only eat. It was time to move on.
Pickled food
A home-based accountant, Galina Bodarev, opened the door during her lunch break. Her children have left and live abroad, too. She agreed to show us her cellar. We wanted to see how ready she was to face the winter. "I used to prepare more, but now I'm alone and only do a little," she said apologetically. Nevertheless, her "little" means a cellar full of food - dozens of pickled vegetables and jars of jam. She even makes her own wine!
She handed us a jar of strawberry jam, not taking "no" for an answer. Even if Galina seemed to have plenty, loneliness lingered in the half-abandoned village. Her face lit up when she remembered about her pregnant daughter in Germany. She'll be a grandmother! They'll come for a visit in the summer.
"Did you feel that the last winter was harder than usual?" we asked.
"Practically not," she answered.
Cooking and Baking
Next stop, a village called Plop. Angela Bejenari and Valentina Savca are friends, cousins, and neighbors. Bejenari and her husband, Igor, own organic farmland. They grow vegetables, spices, and nuts. Every Saturday, a trained chef, Angela, drives to Chisinau in the middle of the night to sell her produce and pastry at the organic farmers' market.
Valentina helps her prepare and store food: desserts, jams in spring, and pickled vegetables in autumn. The cellar is full of colorful jars with organic, natural, homemade food for winter.
Angela taught us how to prepare the pastry placinte, a staple food for Moldovans. We worked the dough together, pulling it from each side to flatten it into a thin layer. We then added the typical Northern Moldovan naturally sweet filling: walnuts mixed with sugar beet and poppy seeds. We rolled the mixture into the dough and put the pastry rolls into the oven. After 15 minutes, we bit the steamingly hot, crunchy pastry. As we baked, Angela proudly told us that Moldova was finally freed from Russian gas. “For 30 years, the government scared us that if we stopped buying gas from Russia, Moldova would be finished,” Angela said. “But it didn't happen!”
Placinte is handy in an agrarian country. You could fill it with anything - from potatoes and pumpkins to cheese and cherries - and take it to the field with you! You'd have food for days! Placinte was also something women could bake together.
Angela and Valentina admit that last year was not significantly harder than usual. "Many people like to complain these days," Angela said. "But of course, if you like to drink and sleep and don't want to work, you'll end up empty-handed."
Valentina adds: "I live alone, and I do everything myself. I don't complain. I work. That's how I was raised."
Maybe it was an accident or pure luck that everyone we met that day had everything they needed for the winter. Surely, plenty are living in a much more dire situation.
In the capital, Chisinau, we heard a lot of complaints and fears last year. In the countryside, the people we met didn't expect anyone to save them. They lean on their family, friends, and a plot of land. That's how they've lived here for generations.
SIDEBAR:
What exactly happened last winter?
Iulian Groza is one of the best experts in Moldovan development. He is the director of the Institute for European Policies and Reforms in Moldova. He explained to us what happened last winter.
Last year was particularly difficult, especially when winter started. What happened?
Three months before the winter, Russia reactivated its instruments of blackmailing Moldova with energy dependence. Moldova was 99% dependent on Russian gas supply. Moldova's gas production accounted for less than 1%. Gas is the primary source of electricity generation in Moldova and the main heating source in big towns like Balti or Chisinau.
Russia wanted to suspend the gas supply, but things started to change with the new Moldovan government that was voted in 2021. As Russia decreased its supply, the government considered securing its energy supply and becoming independent. The winter was coming, and we were not sure if we would have the electricity. At the same time, Russia was attacking the Ukrainian energy infrastructure to which Moldova was connected.
I remember that time. The fear was real.
We were feeling the blackouts quite often. Since December last year, Moldova is not consuming Russian gas anymore. On average, the gas we get from the market throughout the year is less expensive than the gas we got before that. The European Union made 300 million euros available for Moldova to buy gas from the market. Moldova now bought its gas on the market and stored it in Romania and Ukraine.
What else happened last year that made it exceptionally difficult?
There was high inflation, for instance. The war brought a lot of negative impacts on our trade. The energy crisis we faced was a global energy crisis. This, in turn, generated an economic crisis. The inflation rate was 35 percent by the end of the year.
The highest in Europe.
Yes. Everyone felt it. So, there was a perfect storm of crises that we had to go through. It was not easy, but we were not alone. We received a lot of help.
Since the war started, electricity and gas prices for heating have increased by five to seven times. It happened in many countries, but the impact on households was much higher in Moldova because of the lower salaries.
But with all that, we managed to get through it and learn as much as possible from the crisis. As we are now in the winter of 2023, we are much safer and better prepared.
 | A guest post by
|
 | A guest post by
|
While living in Moldova as a Peace Corps volunteer for two years it was a delight to me to view people's cellars. Each one is different and shows the personality and needs of the household. Preparing for winter by filling the cellar is ingrained in all families. Even many in the city have their canned jars and root storage somewhere in the apartment and patio. Resilience taught through hard times.
When we lived in Moldova (and on visits since then) we have had tastes of the hospitality and resourcefulness of Moldovans in rural areas...but this report and video is still a big eye-opener and an encouragement!