“This is the real Moldova. The essence of the country is here, in the villages, not in the high-rise apartment blocks of Chisinau.”
It is summer and the water temperature in the nearby lake is optimal. Despite the general state of inebriation, almost no one amongst the men present here is shy of having a swim. This is Opaci, a village outside the town of Causeni. Ukraine is just a few fields away, to the south.
The first anniversary of the christening of a girl named Sanda is the occasion for the gathering and everyone is in a festive mood. Family and friends are all Moldovans. Arcadie Placinta, the father of the child, is a thoughtful host and never forgets to refill glasses to the guests. An apricot-brewed spirit, tuica din zarzari, is largely shared amongst people.
Mircea Bordeianu has built a successful career in Brussels as a forecasting analyst and comes back to Moldova on holidays, sharing his time with old school friends and relatives. Mircea is here because he is a good friend of Arcadie and also the godfather of Sanda. His presence is important: a traditional garland-shaped bread named colac is offered to him as a gift, which is followed by a speech in honour of the child.
The gathering takes place in an estate surrounded by hundreds of beehives. Roman Mereuta is one of the members of the local cooperative producing honey and other bee products. He is really proud of his land and his products.
Roman drives us a kilometre down the road, where he lives with his family: “I really want you to see my cellar first, before heading to the beehives and collect some fresh honey.” Here we enter the cellar in which Roman keeps his wine. He is producing wine like almost everyone else in the countryside. Lard and propolis are shared in the semi-darkness of the room while he suddenly says, with a clever smile: “This is the real Moldova. The essence of the country lies here, in the villages, not in the high-rise apartment blocks of Chisinau.” Roman was born and raised in Opaci, like his parents before him. The farming business is fulfilling, and he is a content man.
In the picnic area, in a convivial atmosphere, people have started to gather around some beehives, ready to witness the process of honey-collecting. Roman skilfully removes some beehive frames, then honey and wax are shared. The courageous ones linger close to the beehive eager to repeat a ritual supposed to bring good health: four bee stings in the back. “Painful, but you are going to feel much better afterwards. It is very healthy,” suggests Radu Hatmanu, one of the guests, in good Italian, as he had a brief stint as a migrant worker in Italy in the past.
Leaving the banquet at sunset, the empty countryside looks almost idyllic. Only half an hour later, while heading towards Chisinau, the traffic becomes more intense, while dozens of minibuses converge towards the capital from all over the country. Reinforced by Roman’s words, the feeling that Moldova is an intricate network of hundreds of small villages linked to a city-state is strong.
