Moldova Zoo

Being in Moldova is wierd.





Most of the time, I am besieged by

little things that annoy me. The sidewalks are a case in point. They

are cracked slabs of asphalt that typically run in slanting diagonals

with holes in them big enough to trap a small elephant. In the winter

nobody shovels the snow, too, so these nominal "sidewalks" become icy

death traps that have probaly claimed more than one life. Really.





Then,

there are things that positively piss me off. The archaic form of

beurocracy that stifles the life of everyone here at one time or

another is a prime example. Everyone must register with the local

police office, whether they are a resident or a visitor for only a few

days, and this is a nightmarish task you would not wish on your junior

high school enemy. It is a kafkaesque form of torture where people

spend hours crammed in a huddled mob arguing over who arrived after

whom before a large, leather-padded, stalwartly closed door. When

finally one can gain entry, it is (if one is lucky enough to have the

right form in the first place) to receive a rubber stamp on that form

by some surly and bored matroness. Then, you get sent to another room

(in the same building if you are lucky) where you get to repeat the

whole hours-before-a-shut -leather-door-in-an-unhappy-mob scenario

again, waiting for yet another coveted rubber stamp. This repeats

itself all day. Literally, all day, I'm not joking. But then it's not

over. Invariably, one must return to this office again another day to

pick up some form of identification (the whole point of getting all the

rubber stamps in the first place, I guess) and again wait in front of

door after door to do so. This is if you are lucky enough not to have

to go to some other governmental office or, heaven forbid, a hospital

for bloodwork (where yet again one must wait in front of door after

door in a similar fashion, although the hospitals are arguably dirtier

than most government offices or police stations.) This is, I suppose,

the most notable remnant of Soviet occupation still lingering in modern

day Moldova: the soul-numbing beurocracy. Really, it's no wonder the

USSR lost the Cold War: everyone in the Soviet Union was too busy

waiting in front of doors to get anything done.





Anyway, the

whole beurocratic thing is one thing that just pisses me off about

Moldova. But then there are some thingsthat are just flat out WRONG and

EVIL about this country. And one of them is: the Zoo.





We all

have been to a zoo and felt a twinge of pity for the poor animals that

only have a square hundred yards of grass to run on, or perhaps a tree

or concrete lake to play in, instead of the unlimited wild in which

they belong. Well, after witnessing what animals endure here, such

accomodations seem paradise in comparison.





Here is the Moldova zoo, with denizens crowding by the bars to peer at

the local inmates with wonder.  You'll notice that miniskirts and

fishnet stockings are appropriate attire for zoogoing here, even in

winter.










The tiger has

the greatest gig at the zoo, with an area of actual grassland to roam

upon. Granted, probably no work was made to make the tiger's pen

resemble it's native Mongolian environment, but it does have the luxury

of dirt. You'll notice the sign on the cage. This says basically that

the tiger is a dangerous animal and one should stay away from it. You'd

think this would be obvious, but local legend tells that a girl did actually

lose her arm when she tried to pet the kitty.










The pens the other animals live in are just steel floors with steel

walls and steel floors not much bigger than the size of themselves.

People come to gawk, laugh, or kiss in front of these romantic settings.





Then there's the petting zoo. Actually, if the zoo were just this, it wouldn't be so bad.











The

bird and reptile rooms apparently breed animals for resale. I guess

it's how the zoo makes its profit. I was lucky enough to get access to

the reptile room once and was myself tempted to pick up a leopard gecko

(I used to do herpetoculture in the USA, so I would have known what I

was doing) but wouldn't for the life of me know where to pick up a

heating pad, UV light, or heatlamp anywhere in this part of the world.





What

is really sad is that, after being here for a while and living the

local life, the zoo stops being so appalling. It's actually an outing I

have come to look forward to. I guess, after seeing people living in

conditions not much better than iron and concrete cages for so long,

the habitats of the animals seem almost natural.





I need a vacation :)