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There are more places around the world than people could find individual
names for them: for example, there are cities called Rome in the states of Georgia,
Illinois, Indiana, Massachusetts, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and believe
it or not, there is even one in Italy. The US has five cities called London;
England has only one. Germany has a single Hamburg; we have nine.
There is a Salem in India; but we have 25 of them. If I say “I am going
to Transylvania,” it doesn’t necessarily mean that I want to see Count Dracula
and his nasty little vampires, I may just head to Louisiana, the Pelican State.
I have cut short this geographical trivia and come to the subject;
there two places in Eastern Europe called Moldova, and both have plenty of amateur
radio operators. One is a region located between the Carpathian Mountains
and the Prut river, and is part of Romania, thus is YO-land. The other
one is the Republic of Moldova, situated just east of Romania. It belonged
to the Soviet Union and is now part of the Commonwealth of Independent States;
to us it is known as ER-land (formerly UO-land).
The Republic of Moldova, as well some territories north and
south of it, used to be part of Romania, and was inhabited mostly by Romanians.
After World War II the Soviet Union, probably not remembering exactly where
their borders were before the war, moved them westward, from the Nistru (Dniester
in English) river to the Prut river, occupying and dividing the Romanian provinces
of Bucovina and Basarabia among Ukraine and the newly created Republic of Moldova.
During decades of colonization, many Romanians were deported
east, and a large number of Russians and Ukrainians were settled there, and
they don’t speak Romanian. In fact, to sever any cultural ties with the
former motherland, it was officially proclaimed that the language spoken by
the local population is “Moldovian” rather than Romanian. Of course, it
was the same language but nobody was allowed to admit it.
I remember that around 1958, when I was still living in Romania
and I was the chief operator of YO2KAC club station, I had an interesting QSO
with the chief operator of another club station in the city of Beltsy, in the
Republic of Moldova. When the operator called Anatol answered my call
in Romanian I said:
“I am very happy that you speak Romanian.” His answer
came fast and according to the rules:
“No, I don’t speak Romanian, I speak Moldovian!” Not realizing
right away the political implications I told him:
“Oh, I am glad to hear that. I did not know that I understand
a foreign language. Now I know that I am a smart person and a polyglot!”
I heard a laughter and his short comment:
“ Then I guess I am also smart and a polyglot.” and he quit
the QSO not daring to push his luck.
Later, after I moved to the US, I had many QSOs with UO and
recently with ER hams. Each of us was using his own language, both sounding
exactly the same, but I did not get involved anymore in linguistic discussions.
Two years ago I toured Romanian cities, visiting and photographing
the YO hams, and writing about them. Out of 24 localities I saw, only
two were in the region of Moldova: Botosani and Bacau. This year I went
to see amateurs in other 24 cities and I included six of them from Moldova:
Galati, Barlad, Vaslui, Roman, Piatra Neamt, and Iasi. From the region’s
capital, Iasi, I took a side trip to Kishinev (Chisinau in Romanian) to see
the “Moldovian” speaking, as well as the Russian and the Ukrainian-speaking,
hams.
Preparing my trip, I bought twenty 1995 ARRL Handbooks, I collected
from friends bunch of Callbooks, back copies of various amateur radio magazines
such as QST, The DX Magazine, CQ, 73, World Radio, etc., and I sent ahead 260
lbs. of technical literature to Bucharest. I also carried with me almost
200 lbs. of the same stuff. Upon my arrival I made gift packages for every
club I intended to visit.
GALATI
Let me start from the beginning. With Vasile YO3APG,
the General Secretary of the Federation of Romanian Radio Amateurs, I took a
train from Bucharest to Galati, located on the left bank of the Danube river.
Riding trains in Romania is more of a necessity than a pleasure.
When is hot outside, the trains are heated; when it is cold, they are not.
It seems that they don’t want to go against Mother Nature. The toilets
are as filty as they can be, and even a little more. The trains always
leave on time but often arrive late at their destination. That’s more
than one can say about the planes. On this trip I took two planes with
TAROM, the Romanian airline. The one from New York to Bucharest left a
little early and arrived early; so I had to wait almost an hour at the Otopeni
airport for somebody to pick me up. The one from Bucharest to New York
City left late and arrived very late to ... Newark, New Jersey, instead of JFK,
New York. It took a couple of extra hours until the passengers were bused
to the New York airport. On the other hand, looking at the bright side,
my two suitcases came with me; I carried them from Newark to New York.
Nevertheless, if I have a choice, which I don’t have, I would rather take a
train.
In Galati, we went directly to the county radio club where a
beautiful lady, Lacrimioara YO4RIT, is the boss. There we met a big bunch
of hams and I photographed them one by one at their club station, YO4KBJ.
We met Lucian YO4REC; Ioan YO4RHF; Gabi YO4BZB; Bogdan YO4RIU; Costel YO4RGV;
Nicu YO4IT; Dan YO4CVV; Nicu YO4BVZ; and others.
I tried to take some group shots. I arranged them in front
of the station, wrote down their names and callsigns so later I could identify
them in the photographs. By the time I finished writing everything down,
they changed places so I started to write again. I did not get to half
of my list when again they switched places. It seems that they had their
own preferences, not everybody liked everybody else; and I started to dislike
them all. Finally, I took a photo, then I asked them who stood where;
would you believe it, they have disagreed on that too. Therefore on the
caption of the group photo I wrote “Lacrimioara YO4RIT (who can forget her?)
and a bunch of others.”
I wanted to photograph some of them at their home stations and
this started a long and noisy discussion about the order of visits. Not
seeing the end of it, I asked them who had a working station at home.
I aligned them by their sizes and I told them that I would start with the tallest
one, giving the short ones a chance to grow a little.
I visited Doru YO4BZC; Nicu YO4IT; Lucian YO4REC (using a computer
for logging); Eugen YO4YG; Ionel YO4ASD (his son Razvan YO4RCT, is one of the
country’s top high speed CW operators); Vali YO4RDN; and the father & son
team of Nicu YO4BVZ and Cristi YO4RHC. As it can be seen from the photographs,
some hams have homemade equipment, others use modern Japanese transceivers,
outdated military gear, and often a combination of all of them.
BARLAD
From Galati we headed north, about 80 miles, to the city of
Barlad. On some maps the name of this city is spelled Birlad; in all cases,
the first “a” or the “i” have little accents above them. When I grew up
in Romania, Barlad was spelled with the letter “a” with a little upwards pointed
“roof” above it. Later, under the Russian influence, felt in every field,
the accented letter “a” was officially replaced with an accented letter “i”
to give the words a more Slavic flavor. Later a compromise was reached
and if the letter is at the beginning of the word, it is spelled with an accented
“i,” but if is in the middle or the end of the word, then is spelled with an
accented “a.” Why do I give you this boring information? Just to
show you a small example of how frustrating can be the results of one country
meddling in another country’s language.
In Barlad we visited Lulu YO8AKA, a veteran amateur radio operator,
licensed in 1966. Lulu designed and built all his equipment. He
is quite well known, as he published many construction articles in various Romanian
technical magazines: Tehnium, Radiocomunicatii, Radio, etc.
Speaking of famous people, in a small town a war memorial was
erected to honor the unknown soldier. The inscription said: “Here lies
the unknown soldier, Ion Papuc, the soccer player.” A visitor was surprised
and asked why the unknown soldier has a name. “Ion Papuc was a famed soccer
player and he died in the war” was the answer “But as a soldier he was very
much ... unknown!”
We also saw YO8KOD, the club station of the “Children’s House,”
formerly known as the “Pioneers’ House.” Here we met Tatiana YO8CHI, the
club’s radio instructor who also teaches Morse code. In addition to a
couple of her young students, we met her daughter Gabriela who recently passed
the amateur radio test and was waiting for her license. Tatiana’s husband
Gabi YO8CAR also dropped by; he is in charge with the “fox hunt” or “direction
finding” group. Another daughter, Diana YO8RAI, is a college student at
the University of Iasi.
VASLUI
From Barlad we went farther north, about 35 miles, to the small
town of Vaslui. Written attestation of this place dates back to the year
1375, but according to archeological findings, this area was inhabited even
from the Neolithic and Iron Ages. The city is much richer in its historical
past than in its present, nevertheless it can boast a strong amateur radio activity.
At the county radio club, YO8KVS, where Cristi YO8CT is in charge,
a large number of hams were waiting. The club station is an old, reliable
Heathkit with a homemade power supply. I photographed, one by one, a bunch
of operators: Marian YO8RMB; Cristi YO8CT; Nelu YO8RLI; and a couple of others
who later showed us their own stations.
Mihai YO8ROS has a modest homemade equipment installed in a
little closet. Dan YO8RBU is using industrial as well as home-brew gear.
The father and son team of Titi YO8ANX and Aurelian YO8RVS share an entirely
homemade station. We found the best equipped station in Vaslui at Octavian
YO8EQ, with both factory-made and own constructions, a computer, and various
test instruments.
During my visits I had several difficulties, not major, but
they nevertheless hampered my work. Prior to my arrival, I asked that
every amateur make a callsign with large black letters on a white piece of cardboard,
and place it on the equipment or on the wall above the equipment. The
reason for this request was to help me identify later the stations and operators,
and write the proper captions for the photos. What can be simpler than
that? About half of the hams I visited did just that very nicely. The
other half either did not prepare their callsign, or did a half-fast job scribbling
their calls, barely readable, on small pieces of paper. It took me more
time writing for them their callsigns than the whole photo session.
Another problem that slowed down my work is that many hams did
not clean up their desk before our arrival. So I had also to do that job.
Otherwise their stations would have looked like the abandoned remains of a Turkish
flea market.
I asked some of the hams: “Do you have a log book?” The
standard answer was: “Of course I have! It is required by our regulations.”
Then they started to look for their logs. They searched in about 20 drawers,
they looked on the top of their closets and cabinets, and under their beds,
then extended their hunt to the other rooms of their apartment. The men
always blamed their wives for allegedly misplacing their logs; and the women
blamed their children. The kids did not have anybody to pass the blame
on so they just stood there with a guilty look on their faces, not even knowing
what was missing. One log was actually located in a big jar in the pantry;
another one was found on the bottom of an empty bird cage - the canary died
a year earlier. At one place, the host disappeared for about 10 minutes,
allegedly looking for his log, then he returned with a bottle of booze but without
the log; he completely forgot about it. We did not; no such luck; if there
is no log, there is no photo.
ROMAN
From Vaslui we continued, again by train, northwest about 40
miles to the city of Roman, located at the junction of Moldova and Siret rivers.
This place also has a rich history, being first mentioned in a document dated
1392. Roman is a small town but it has many very old and beautiful churches,
some of them built in the XVI and XVII centuries, as well as some XIX century
residences and historical buildings with landmark status.
In Roman we visited Costel YO8YW who uses a factory-made old
receiver and a homemade transceiver. Costel’s daughter is Manuela YO8SYW,
and his son-in-law is Iulian YO8RFX. Next we saw the all-homemade station
of Gelu YO8GN. Gelu is mostly a CW operator but he is also active on RTTY.
Last but not least, we visited Cornel YO8BOI, a medical doctor, using all factory-made
equipment. We had dinner at Cornel’s house; several kinds of appetizers
were served including my favorite: fish egg paste, prepared so well in Romania.
I ate so much that I could hardly move but then the dinner was brought in.
If there is any poverty in Romania, I could not notice it that day. Cornel
YO8BOI, and his wife, also a medical doctor, drove us straight west, about 25
miles, to Piatra Neamt. We made a small detour to see a property Cornel
intended to buy, and to visit another ham, but he was not at home.
As has happened during my previous visits to Romanian hams,
constantly I had to fight off the hosts’ offerings of all kind of beverages.
It is a local custom, during social visits, the hosts and the guests are toasting
to everybody’s health, to all the relatives, their present and their future,
as well to every saint in the calendar. However I was on a working tour
trying to reach as many people in as many cities as possible. I did not
have neither the time, nor the inclination to drink to the health of my hosts’
in-laws, and I did not care about the saints listed in the Byzantine calendar.
Getting their information from the American movies and TV serials the locals
could not understand why I don’t drink. I had days when in a six-hour
period I had to visit and photograph 10-12 amateurs. If I would have accepted
drinks at every place, by the end of the day I could have been prominently listed
in those calendars.
Cornel, as an exception, did not insist me to drink, however
he wanted to stuff me with food, and I gratefully accepted that. However,
Vasile YO3APG who accompanied me on this trip, did not have to be coerced, he
cheerfully accepted every drink was offered.
PIATRA NEAMT
Piatra Neamt is a small
town but with a great number of active and enthusiastic ham. We saw the
computer-equipped station of Micky YO8AEU. His daughter Crengutza YO8TYL
is living in Germany and is married to Fred DL5GCF. Costi YO8BSE uses
a computer and factory-made equipment with lots of home-brew accessories.
He is a good QSLer. Costi’s 20-year-old daughter Cristina is YO8RIZ.
Cristi YO8RVA has a big sneaky smile and a neat station. He uses a combination
of factory and homemade equipment.
Gicu YO8RDR looks like a professor, mainly because he is a professor
at the “Children’s Club” where the YO8KGZ club station is located. Gicu’s
home station is 100% homemade. Narcis YO8RBY is the son of Costel YO8ACQ.
Contrary to any kind of rumor, even if he smiles a lot in the mirror, Narcis
is not in love with himself. He is just admiring his mustache. Nicu
YO8BGE built his own transceiver that works quite well; I know because I had
a couple of QSOs with him and his QSL card is on the wall of my radio room.
Mihai YO8CLY is a DXer, with entirely homemade station over
the years he made thousands of contacts. Florin YO8ALO is another devoted
constructor who made everything in his shack from scratch. Vasile YO8RCA
built himself the widest transceiver I ever saw; it looks like a stretched limo
but works quite well. Before leaving the city we had the chance to see
the local county club station YO8KGP where the chief operator is the above mentioned
Mihai YO8CLY. There we met a bunch of operators: Adrian YO8AXN; Radu YO8AXE;
Iulian YO8BAE; Mihai YO8DOF, and others. Finally after a tour of five
cities of Moldova, we returned to Bucharest where I stayed between travels.
Piatra Neamt, or a nearby village, is the birth place of Vasile
YO3APG, the General Secretary of the Federation of Romanian Radio Amateurs.
With the personality cult still fashionable in Romania, I thought I better mention
that.
I have to tell that getting the YO hams to smile while one is
taking their photo is not that easy. Even when they are in a good mood,
smiling and laughing happily, the moment they see a camera pointed at them the
smile disappears and they become dead serious. They firmly believe that
they look silly if they smile in a picture. On the other hand, the Americans,
no matter how troubled they are that moment, the instant somebody takes a picture
of them, they present a wide grin suggesting: “I am very happy because I am
doing so well.” So when I photograph the Romanian amateurs, I take the
first photo as they wish with that “the tower just fell on my house and missed
my mother-in-law” look. After that I ask them to smile. I usually
get a fast burst of a smile that disappears before I can click the camera.
Then I try to tell them something happy like “You just won a free trip around
the world, on foot” or “How would you like a new Japanese transceiver?”
Some fall for it and smile, others do not. Sometimes they wait until I
take the photo and then they break up in laughter. I experimented with
various things to say, but the best success I had with “I hear your mother-in-law
is moving to Australia.” This always - except once, when his in-laws were
behind me in the room - got me an honest and genuine, ear-to-ear smile.
Perhaps they did not believe me, but just imagining that their dearest relative
is leaving the house and is moving in with the kangaroos brought out many happy
faces.
IASI
A couple of days later,
after I visited some cities in the southern part of Romania, Vasile YO3APG and
I headed again north to visit the amateurs of Iasi, the largest city in the
Moldova province. At the county club, a bunch of hams were waiting for
us with good food, and they have guessed my favorite one: fish egg paste.
Again, as in other places, I had to explain that I don’t drink any kind of alcoholic
beverages because if I drink even a little bit I usually develop a sudden and
unexplainable hatred against Japanese transceivers. They looked at their
equipment, then they looked at me, then they decided that they don’t want to
take any chances, and I never heard the word “drink” again. Just to be
safe, they moved all the bottles to a far corner of the room; not far enough
for Vasile YO3APG who followed and found them.
I started to photograph the people at their club station YO8KAE.
First I took the chief of club Costi YO8BAM. Then his pretty wife Doina
YO8RAM, and then the two of them together. One by one, I photographed
Leon YO8RSL; Cristi YO8RHQ; George YO8AHH; Jean YO8CF; and a couple of others.
I also took the picture of Nely YO8DAP who in 1974-77 while on work assignment
in Algiers, operated as 7X0NY.
Vasile apparently did not suffer from my alleged reaction to
alcohol, so I left him at the club, and after a heated discussion about the
itinerary and the order of visits, I went with Costi YO8BAM to see other hams.
I photographed Adam YO8BIG, whom I met two years earlier while he was competing
in a QRP contest in Navodari, neat Constanta. Adam uses a homemade transceiver
and a computer for RTTY.
I visited Carmen YO8BXY; during her travels she guest operated
BY1PK, 5B4OA, and F6BOA. I saw Lucian YO8OK, a DXer using only homemade
gear, very active on RTTY. I had QSOs with Lucian and I received his QSL
card after a long wait. Cris YO8RES is a specialist in electronics; he
designed and built all his equipment. Liviu YO8OU has only factory-made
equipment and a very big, visible callsign on the wall. Mihai YO8SDM has
a neat setup with a computer for packet and a manufactured transceiver.
Finally, Dacian YO8RIM, with a big mustache and a happy face, has an excellent
transceiver and uses his computer for RTTY.
I heard a story about two amateurs boasting with the QSLs they
have received. The first ham said:
“I have so many cards that I could cover all the walls of my
shack with them.”
“My wife doesn’t let me hang anything on the walls so I keep
all my cards very neatly in a shoe box” said the second ham then he added with
pride:
“And I can even put my shoes back!”
The amateurs are basically honest people. To illustrate
this claim, here is another true story; at least as true as the others I was
telling you. A ham was selling a transceiver and his good friend was trying
to buy it on credit. They were haggling for a long time but the would-be-buyer’s
offer was much bellow the gear’s value. He told the seller:
“You are my friend and I like you very much; that is the reason
I want to buy your rig very cheap.”
“If you are my friend and you like me, why are you offering
only half what the stuff is worth?” asked the seller.
“Because I don’t want to feel very bad when I won’t pay you!”
answered the honest friend.
I spent the night in the house of Costi YO8BAM and his wife
Doina YO8RAM. Next day, early in the morning, Doina made me some sandwiches
for the road and Costi took me to the bus station on my way to the Republic
of Moldova.
KISHINEV
Let me back track a little
before I describe my journey to Kishinev. A Russian amateur radio friend
of mine now living in New York, who was in the Republic of Moldova and knows
some hams there, gave me a short list with names and addresses. He even
made some remarks about everyone on his list but I changed the names to protect
the guilty:
“This is Vladimir, he doesn’t drink any more; but doesn’t drink
any less either.”
“This is Ilich, he did not drink too much; but now he does.”
“This is Iosif, he used to drink a lot; now is drinking even
more.”
“This is Visarion, he was a heavy boozer but he is not drinking
anymore because he is dead. Don’t look for him.”
I had only one on my list who was not a drinker but I was advised
not to look for him. Armed with this kind of information I wrote a couple
of letters to several hams in Kishinev explaining my project and asked them
to organize the visits. I received some answers and everything was OK.
From Bucharest I even called up three hams, giving them the time and place of
my arrival. I prepared for their radio club a little package with books
and magazines, as I did for all the other clubs I visited.
Now back to the trip. In Iasi the bus to Kishinev arrived
a couple of minutes late; it was dirty, the windows had been washed only by
rain and it seemed that it was a very long dry spell. They sold twice
as many tickets than seats were on the bus. Over-the-border traders were
carrying big bundles of merchandise and everybody was pushing and shouting.
The loudest voice was that of the bus driver, who directed the people with luggage
to place them underneath in the luggage compartments. Some people were
reluctant to do that and tried to get on the bus with all their belonging.
I noticed that experienced traders gave the driver some money with their tickets
and were allowed to bring their stuff with them. On my seat there was
an enormous bundle, guarded by a gurgantuan woman, so I did not say anything
but took the seat of a little guy. He tried to claim his rights but I
just pointed to the big woman and he quickly resigned.
Finally the bus was full, with more people standing in the aisle than sitting,
and left much later than it was scheduled.
The distance between Iasi and Kishinev is only about 70 miles.
The trip should not have taken long, but the checking the travel documents and
the customs inspection lasted more than one hour and half on each side of the
border. Romanian citizens don’t need visas to enter the Republic of Moldova,
but they have to show their ID cards. I travel with a US passport and
I had to apply and get a tourist visa costing $30.00. I received the visa
at the Consulate of the Republic of Moldova in Bucharest, but it also can be
obtained at their Embassy in Washington, DC, or even at the border.
We crossed the border at Sculeni; when we arrived
there, the bus driver took up a collection, and every passenger had to pay up,
for “ecology.” I don’t know and don’t care where the money went, but I
am pretty sure that it did not improve the environment. If the money was
spent on booze, the environment may have just looked better.
About two days earlier, the Sculeni checkpoint was closed for
awhile by the Moldovian authorities but I don’t know the reason. It could
have been a protest against some governmental regulations. In Kishinev,
on the day of my arrival, big protest meetings were held, mostly by students,
their professors, and some workers.
I arrived at Kishinev in the early afternoon and a group of
local amateurs were waiting for me at the bus station. They recognized
me by my cap bearing my name and callsign, and I guess, because I was the only
one without huge packages. They all wanted to go to a restaurant and organize
the visits. What to organize? I did not come there for a state visit,
just wanted to see a couple of hams. To save time, I did not want to go
to any restaurant and insisted to start the visits right away. Reluctantly
they took me to their Central Radio Club where ER1KAA club station is located.
There I saw a huge display of various communications equipment, all subsidies
from the armed forces. Obsolete radios are donated to clubs; some of them
work, others don’t, but all look very impressive. At the club I met the
chief operator Nicu ER1RO. Nicu is employed by the club and is in charge
of the equipment, organizing radio and code courses, participation in various
contests, field days with fox hunts, etc. I gave him a pack of books and
magazines I brought for the club, and the hams examined them with great excitement.
I also had with me a couple of copies of a bulletin published in Russian by
the Russian Speaking Radio Club International, located in New York. I
was received officially by Yuri ER1AP, the president of the Amateur Radio Association
of the Republic of Moldova with a long and flowery speech; they just love protocol.
My speech was shorter: “Thanks and let’s work!”
At the club I met a bunch of great guys, some spoke Romanian
(excuse me, they spoke Moldovian!), others Ukrainian or only Russian, but all
understood some English. The Central Radio Club was the only place in
Kishinev where they did not want me to drink with them, and I will be forever
grateful for that. I became acquainted with Slava ER1LW; Valery ER1DA;
Mike ER1AM; Vitaly ER1OK; and Vasily ER1FW. Slava ER1LW, belongs to one
of the minority groups living there, they are called “Gagautz” (I don’t know
the English name for them). Their ancestors were Turks who adopted Christianity,
therefore were persecuted by the Muslim Turks.
I took some photos at the club and Yuri ER1AP, representing
the Amateur Radio Association of the Republic of Moldova, gave me a kind of
award. It is written in Russian; its title says: “Diplom Sovietskaia Moldavia”
so it is a leftover from the time Moldova was part of the Soviet Union.
It so happened that it became very useful when I left the country because, at
the border, the Moldovian authorities were very suspicious of what I was doing
in their country. That day in Kishinev there were big anti-government
demonstrations, about which I couldn’t care less, but I was the only traveler
with just a small handbag and a photo camera with a bunch of film. All
the other passengers had large packages with merchandise, obviously they were
the garden variety of part traders, part smugglers, and the customs officers
were used to them. I had on my handbag a tag with my name on it, identifying
me as a “Staff Reporter for The DX Magazine.” Not knowing what kind of
publication is “The DX Magazine,” they were convinced that I came to cover the
political scene of which they were not very proud. They checked very carefully
every little thing in my handbag and they kept asking what I knew about the
demonstrations. My cap with my name and callsign confused even more.
I told them that I did not see and did not care for their demonstrations, and
that I only came to meet my radio amateur friends. Finally they found
the above mentioned “Diplom,” they read it carefully and that cleared the air.
That outdated piece of paper saved me from further complications.
I have jumped ahead too far with my story. Getting back
to Kishinev I started to visit the local hams and photograph them. First
I saw Yuri ER1AP, a DXer with 321 countries confirmed and counting. Yuri,
like everybody else I saw with one exception, has a completely homemade station.
In ER-land there are no Radio Shacks or other similar stores for electronic
materials. How do they manage to get the needed parts for their construction
projects? Mostly from cannibalizing old, not working radio equipment,
the military donated to the radio clubs. In the absence of good, updated
technical literature, it is quite a performance building those transceivers.
This is the reason they got so excited getting the ARRL Handbook and the ham
magazines. At Yuri’s place started the old problem; they all sat down
to eat and drink; I was eager to continue my work. The host was offended
because I did not drink with them. They explained that they don’t just
drink, they treat and honor each other, they show their esteem and respect.
It’s a matter of semantics; no matter what names they gave to it, to me it looked
like plain drinking.
Moldova was always the Soviet Union’s best wine country;
the Moldovians are great wine producers. If they have a bumper crop of
grapes, and they make sure to have one every year, they just have to make wine.
And if there is plenty of wine, can they let it turn to vinegar, what do you
say?
I did not write the above so the readers of this publication
who happened to be boozers to get up, pack their bags, and rush to the Republic
of Moldova. I just warn the non-drinkers what they may encounter if they
go there.
I heard about a wino who was sentenced by the court to report
to the police every time he got drunk. One day he went to the police stoned
out of his mind and told the sergeant on duty:
“I came to report that yesterday I was drunk.”
“But you are drunk today as well,” answered the angry police
officer.
“Yes, but this I will report tomorrow” said eagerly the conscientious
drunkard.
Let me continue with my story. Next I visited Mike ER1AM.
We had to go through some dark gangways and corridors, climb up a steep iron
ladder, and out through kind of window to get to the roof of the building.
There we could admire Mike’s huge, three-element Quad antenna, on top of a tall
tower. I asked Mike to climb his tower so I could take some photos showing
its size in relation to the human body. The multitude of electrical wires
running nearby could have caused some trouble during the raising of the tower
or the installation of the antenna but fortunately, they say,
everything went OK.
Mike’s transceiver is larger than the ones we are used to see;
it is homemade and has electronic tubes instead of transistors and chips.
Nevertheless it is working just fine.
Valery ER1DA also has a homemade transceiver and power supply.
He is the vice-president of the Association of Radio Amateurs of the Republic
of Moldova. I had several QSOs with Valery who speaks perfectly the same
language I speak; and I won’t start now a debate about what that language should
it be called. I received his QSL card through the bureau. I fully
expected it, because Valery is the QSL manager for the hams of the Republic
of Moldova. Valery said the cards sent to the ER amateurs any other way
than their bureau will incur long delays if they ever reach their destination.
The best and fastest way to send cards is through the ER-QSL bureau, P.O.Box
6637, Kishinev 277050, Republic of Moldova.
Last, I visited a young amateur radio couple: Ion ER1DM and
his wife Lara ER1AAY. They use a factory-made transceiver and have many
modern, industrially made test instruments. I had the impression the were
just borrowed from their place of work for the photo session. Ion was
the one who had a car and drove us around. Maybe it was not even his car.
Not too many Moldovians have private cars.
I intended to visit also other cities in the Republic of Moldova,
like Beltsy or Vulcaneshti, but according to Valery ER1DA, he called some amateurs
there but did not receive any answer. Making a decision is not the strongest
quality of the people in the former Soviet republics. For two-three generations
they got used to obeying and executing the decisions made for them by the State
and Party officials. It will take awhile until the people will dare to
voice their own opinion, and to carry out their own decisions. The recent
mass demonstrations show that the younger generation just started to do that.
However, I did not have the time to wait for the good people of Beltsy to decide
if they wanted me there or not. I inquired about the first train going
back to Bucharest and I made sure that I was on it. I visited about 90
countries (my luggage has already made DXCC!) but this was my shortest stay
in any of them; about four-and-half hours in Kishinev or about nine hours in
the country.
Before I leave the country, let me tell you about a curious
fact I heard there from several people. They work for state-owned enterprises
but so far (that was in April) that year they did not get paid. College
students did not receive their scholarships. I understand that they have
huge economic problems but to let the people work and not pay them is difficult
to comprehend. No wonder they had those mass demonstrations. I asked
one guy how they manage without salaries. He told me that everybody takes
a little bit from the factory where they work and sell them.
“Do you mean that everybody steals?” I asked with amazement.
“No, not at all” was the answer. “You steal only if you
take something that belongs to somebody else. For many years our leaders
told us that the factories belong to us. We take home what is ours.”
That is one way to interpret the socialist system, and I was
wondering how Karl Marx would have explained this to his disciples.
This reminds me of a Russian fellow who was working in a factory
which according to the public records, and the big sign at the front gate, was
a “Plant for Manufacturing Bicycle Parts.” The fellow wanted a bicycle
but could not afford one so every day, he took from the factory (remember, it
was his factory) a couple of parts. When he thought that he had enough
of them, he tried to assemble them. However every time he put those parts
together, he complained, he got a machine gun.
For my trip to Bucharest I bought a ticket for a sleeping compartment
because it was a long night trip. The train prices are cheap if one exchanges
dollars to local currency. For local people who are paying from their
salaries it is quite expensive, especially when they don’t get their salaries.
There are two- as well as four-bunk bed compartments; I took
one with four berths to have some company, and because it was cheaper.
I traveled with a Moldovian student who attended the University of Bucharest,
and with two over-the-border traders.
Men and women are placed in the same compartment regardless
if they are together or even know each other. They figure that by morning,
with a little luck, they will be acquainted quite well. The traders hid
some of their merchandise in every corner of the compartment. However
both the Moldovian and the Romanian customs officers found most of them.
After a couple of minutes of hard bargaining, the over-the-border traders had
to pay some customs fees and some bribes that just added to their business expenses.
The train entered Romania at Ungheni. Because the tracks in the former
Soviet Union are wider than in the rest of Europe, every car had to be lifted
at the border, and the undercarriages with the wheels had to be changed.
This process took at least an hour and half. We arrived at Bucharest with
delay but it was OK with me because it was very early in the morning.
CONCLUSION
I will not compare the
life in the two Moldovas; it is a very complex issue and I am not qualified
to do that. I will just compare the ham life in the two places I visited.
The most obvious difference is in the equipment they use. While in both
places there are good specialists in electronics, the ones in the Romanian Moldova
are ahead because they have more educational opportunities, and more technical
literature and electronic parts are available. Furthermore, the Romanians,
having better contacts with the West, have managed to acquire modern Japanese,
American, and German made equipment. The hams in the Republic of Moldova
rely almost entirely on home-brew equipment and on obsolete army surplus.
On both sides of the Prut river the amateurs struggle with financial difficulties
resulting in reduced activities of their outgoing QSL bureaus, however the Romanians
are managing it better.