In 2010 I took part in the Cronograph Documentary Festival in Chișinău, Moldova, with the documentary The Boatman’s House.

Once the festival had ended, and shortly before returning to Lisbon, I travelled to Old Orhei, an archaeological site near Trebujeni, a small village set in the same valley through which the Răut River winds.

It was a chance journey, decided on the spur of the moment. An opportunity not to be missed.

Knowing nothing of what I would find and having only a few hours to stay, I was left with the desire to remain longer and with the awareness of how little I had understood about the people I encountered along the way.

NEIGHBOURS AT ODDS AND UNRESOLVED IMPASSES

The Ukrainian border is just 30 km from here. This region lies in the central-eastern part of the country, less than an hour from the capital and approximately 15 km from the border with the breakaway region of Transnistria.

In 1990, even before the dissolution of the Soviet Union, this territory unilaterally declared its independence from Moldova. Following a number of skirmishes with separatist forces, a Russian-mediated ceasefire was agreed, and it has remained in force ever since. 

It remains one of the frozen conflicts of the post-Soviet space.

AMONG GORGES AND A MEANDERING RIVER

The winding roads that follow the river and the hills are almost deserted. Here and there they are used mainly by farmers travelling on foot or in horse-drawn carts. The bends, descents and climbs are like metaphors for a recent past that has crumbled away and for a new, still uncertain, era yet to be travelled.

THOSE WHO STAY

It was in August 1991 that Moldova declared its independence from the Soviet Union, which had annexed it in 1940. During that period it was the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic. Before that, for a little over two decades, beginning in 1918, much of the present-day territory formed part of Romania.

Apart from agriculture and livestock farming, activities carried out mainly by an ageing population, there are few employment opportunities in the area. Few young people remained. A large number emigrated in search of better wages and opportunities, heading to the capital, Chișinău, to neighbouring countries such as Russia and Romania, as well as to other parts of Europe.ia, bem como para europa .

In Trebujeni there are several houses restored by emigrants. They return once or twice a year, chiefly in summer, to spend time with their relatives.

That was not the case with the young woman I met in the local village shop. There did not seem to be much happening there, and I could not help wondering whether she, like so many others, was waiting for a better opportunity in life that would eventually take her away from that village.

In this climate of uncertainty, some of the older inhabitants remain nostalgic for the Soviet era, when employment was guaranteed and there was a sense of economic security. Many others, however, wish to align themselves with Europe, where they envisage a future that may bring investment in infrastructure and make it easier to travel and work in other countries.

When we do not know a place, we tend to look for points of reference in what is familiar to us. And, perhaps superficially and mistakenly, much of what I found and photographed reminded me of my own country and, more specifically, of the rural area near Sintra where I grew up.

Yet it is clear that this perception falls far short of a careful reading attentive to the particularities and nuances of this place, which I almost certainly failed to grasp. And I am left with the desire to return.

Perhaps one day.