Moldovian Border Crossing

Changing Wheels

It’s four in the morning. Someone is tapping on my foot. The cabin light flicks on. For a moment I forget where I am. I was sound asleep. Groggy, I recognize the train’s steward. He says, “pass,” probably the only English word he knows. Okay, I need to get out my passport. The steward leaves and fifteen minutes later a Romanian border guard comes by and takes my passport. Then nothing for an hour, until the Romanian border guard comes back with my passport and the train starts to move, slowly, for just a few minutes, then stops. I had closed my cabin door, thinking we were through. There’s another knock on the door. A woman in street attire points at herself and says, “doctor.” Then points at me, “problem?” I shake my head and she moves on. Uniformed men are now patrolling the corridor. A Russian soldier, that’s what I suspect anyway from the Russian star on his cap, motions for me to give him my passport. He studies it very seriously, and says something in Russian. It seems he wants to know where I’m going. I show him the numerous visas in my passport. He says something in Russian. I think he’s asking me, how long am I staying in Moldova. I hold up two fingers. He proceeds to page through my passport several times, with a curious frown, looking for something, I don’t know what. Finally he runs my passport through his computer and hands it back to me. I say Spasiba. He nods with a smile and moves on. A moment later another uniformed official, from which country I'm not sure, asks me to open my bags. He looks the contents over, satisfied, moves on. The train starts up again, moving slowly, stops for a few minutes, then backs up, and stops. There’s a loud clang outside, lots of commotion. Workers are changing the wheels on the train. We are now on the Russian rail system, whose track gauge is different than that of the West, a system that Tsar Nicholas I in the 1840s mandated so that their enemies could not use Russia’s rail system to attack them.

After the interminable delay we finally head into Moldova. Due in part to the lengthy boarding crossing, the train from Bucharest to Chisinau takes over thirteen hours. The train is old and has zero amenities: no air conditioning, no electrical outlets, no diner car, and toilets that dump their refuge on the open tracks below. It’s not for your everyday traveler. From Marius I learned that Moldova was once part of Romania. They speak the same language and use the same currency. It turns out he wasn't correct with respect to the currency. So don't believe everything you hear. Now in theory, at least, Moldova is an independent country although the northern region, Transnistria, dominated by Russians, wants to break away and become a part of the Russia Federation. Curiously, I don’t need a visa here, but I do need one for Russia. Yet it’s the Russian officials that controlled the border, and the tracks are Russian. So is Moldova Russian, Romanian, or independent? I put this question to the two desk clerks at the hotel where I’m staying. One said Moldova is Russian the other said we’re European. I also ran into a bank examiner working for the U.S. Treasury Department and he told me most certainly Moldova will become a part of the European Union. But I’m not so certain. If I were to put money on it, I would bet in a few years, it will return to Russia — just a hunch.