Crisis in Chisinau

So, I thought I would start tonight's blog with some excitement...

This morning started off like every other morning (okay, yesterday morning) in Chisinau. I woke up at 7:15, which I guess means that I am no longer jet-lagged (double points for no nap and still rockin' it out at 9:45 pm.) I made a scrum-dilli-umptious breakfast and tackled some unpacking-of-things. I needed to get the place looking tip-top, because I had a photoshoot to do for all of you and, more importantly, the land-lords were coming back tonight for official document signing and money passage between hands (more on that later.) And of course, I need not add to Ana's concerns that I will drown in my own filth and poorly cooked food.

Well, as the place started coming together I realized that my kitchen table really needed a bit of a floral highlight. Luckily I knew right where to go: on my way to the embassy yesterday I had strolled past a line of florists, about 60 of them, with booths that lined two city blocks.

This is Metropolit G. Banulescu-Bodoni, which is the street outside my house (although, lucky for my ease of address it changes to the much more simple "Petru Rares" about two blocks away from my flat.)

A quick walk of 7 blocks brings me to the edge of a park... I can either veer left into the park....

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...or I stay the course, and lining Metropolit G. etc. is a long line of vendors selling nothing but flowers.

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It is really quite amazing in real life, and there is no real way for a novice photographer to appropriately capture the sight (maybe with a helicopter and some set of crazy lenses... dunno, but I do know these pictures do not do the vendors justice.)

Back to the story:  I found the appropriate boquet and headed for home.  On my way to the florists I had noticed a little shop with fruits behind the counter, so I made a stop to ask for "patru portocale, va rog."  And 19 lei later I was out the door with my 4 oranges, and the boquet.  All I could think was how great these oranges looked, couldn't wait to taste one.  And the flowers!  Boy, were they going to look sharp on my table.  Almost home...

I walked up the two flights of stairs to my door (I live on the third floor...) set down my oranges and flowers, inserted my key into the first door, turned it thrice to move the lock... now all it takes is a half-turn and I'm through to the second door.  Unfortunately, I forgot that while making the half-turn I needed to give the door a gentle push to take the pressure off the bolt before pulling to open the door... yes, three turns, gentle push, half-turn-pull.  With a gentle push the door swings open, without a gentle push - *snap!* (that is the sound of my key breaking... or my heart... kind of tough to decipher which one...)

I look down at my juicy oranges, looking rather forlorn there on the floor, and realize this is going to take drastic measures.  I can either sit on my stoop for 6 hours until Ana and Dmitrii arrive (the land-lords,) or take matters into my own hands and figure out where I can get this dang key repaired.  Luckily I know the words "unde" "repara" and "cheie"... those words coupled with the broken key in hand were enough to get any stranger I came across to first, give me very complicated directions, and then, after realizing that they were speaking to a complete foreigner, to point in the general direction.  The fifth person I spoke to gave me the obligatory complicated directions (complete with numbers) when the man she was with shook his head and simply said "autobuz" and pointed.

Now, "autobuz" is the highly complicated procedure I had decided to tackle tomorrow... I do not know this city well enough to trust that I can just take off on a bus route and then find my way back again.  At this point I decided to take a taxi.  With 164 lei in my pocket, which is around $14.60, I found a taxi driver named Ilie willing to take me to the "piața central," wait for me there, and then take me back to my address.  The driver was extremely helpful, calling a friend to find out exactly where a keysmith worked in the market and then running in to check that it was what I needed.

After all was said and done, the new key cost 10 lei (90 cents) and the round-trip taxi was 40 lei ($3.58).  In return, I have a shiny new key, know where to find a keysmith, and now have a taxi driver's name and direct phone number.  But, I have got to stop meeting people this way!  :^)

Lesson #142, from Brian's Guide to Living in Moldova:  When living behind complicated door-locks, make sure to make a duplicate of your keys as soon as possible, and keep them on the same key-ring as the originals.  Thus, you will avoid long hunts for keysmiths in a city you don't know.  However, if successful in avoiding a keysmith hunt, you will still need to meet a cabbie you like in order to get his or her direct phone number for future convenience.

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