A USAID Farmer-to-Farmer program assignment took me to the impoverished nation of Moldova, a former Soviet Union country that borders Romania and the Ukraine.

I had three weeks within which to train post-graduate students on business management. Certainly,  I had no complaints about inattentive students! My Moldovan colleagues flooded the classroom with earnest, thought-provoking questions.

On several occasions, students invited me to dinner at their homes. These get-togethers often lasted hours. Shashlik, a Turk-Russian kebab of marinated vegetables and lamb grilled to perfection, is a particularly tasty memory. The savory scent of borscht accompanied many meals. What many dismiss as “beet soup” is actually a rich concoction of cabbage, potatoes, onions, celery, and beets enhanced with the flavors of butter and sour cream. Our evenings began and ended patriotically with vodka toasts and loud renditions of the Moldovan National Anthem—all four verses!

One morning our schedule changed, giving me yet another taste of this nation. Two co-workers, my translator Sergei, and I traveled to a famous Moldovan winery. The sixty-minute drive from the capital city of Chisinau through the hilly countryside took us past women selling vegetables, eggs, wine, and honey along the highway.  Soon, our driver turned onto a bumpy dirt road that led us through an archway with large Cyrillic lettering: the winery’s entrance.

Joined by several German travelers on holiday, our tour guide Svetlana (an energetic, hearty babushka who spoke both German and English) led us through the cellars. She proudly told of her viticulture training in Italy and of her many experiences over the winery’s years of operation under Communist rule.

The tour concluded with wine tasting in the Great Room. The wood-paneled room, with its hand-carved tables and chairs, featured a display case filled with awards, photos of Communist leaders, and bottles of specialty wines. I noted particularly a Hero Award, awarded because the winery had donated a carload of wine after the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear disaster. 

Returning to our vehicle, I observed three middle-aged men in dark suits and fur hats approaching the winery. Sergei quietly explained that the men were Mafia collectors coming to garner the syndicate’s percentage of the day’s receipts.

I was stunned. “What if the owner refuses to pay?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Then the Winery building will mysteriously burn down,” Sergio responded matter-of-factly. “We know you are here to teach students about private ownership in business, but you can see how the Mafia makes it difficult for people to own a private business in our country.”

Suddenly, the remaining sessions with my Moldovan colleagues took on a new perspective.

 by Everil Quist, International Agri-business Consultant