Moldova PCV Nicole Sheets says March tradition of martsishors highlights hope for spring
Moldovan March tradition of martsishors highlights hope for spring
By NICOLE SHEETS - Moldova column
What looked at first like a political demonstration on Stefan Cel Mare -- the main street in Chisinau, Moldova’s capital city -- turned out to be martsishor vendors standing shoulder to shoulder with open boxes of their wares.
A few men and women sauntered up and down the sidewalk with martsishor displays as though selling candy at a football game. A martsishor, named for the diminutive form of Martie, or March, is a small red and white token, often handmade, worn on a shirt or coat to celebrate the coming of spring.
The legend in short: the sun, which sometimes took human form to dance at wedding parties and festivals, was captured by a dragon. The Earth mourned; people despaired in the cold and dark. A brave young man fought and killed the dragon, then perished from his battle wounds. A martsishor is half red for love and the lifeblood of the brave man who conquered the dragon, and half white for health, purity and "ghiochel," the first snowdrop-white flowers of spring.
People wear martsishor for the first days of March. The martsishor hardcore don these tokens for the entire month, after which they toss them onto a tree and make a wish.
You can find a martsishor with a charmingly tacky daisy face holding the tassels together. Or with tiny chicken, or a basket, or simple pom-poms. I chose one with tassels shaped like dragonflies.
I spent that frivolous afternoon buying cappuccino, a fistful of pussy willows and ceramic pieces from a bespectacled man in the art park.
"For you, discount," he said. "You are my beautiful customer." And as I turned to walk away, he gave me a martsishor.
Rounding the corner on Pushkin Street, I heard Xylophone Man.
Street musicians aren’t uncommon here; usually you’ll see a group of young people around a guitar with an upturned cap on the ground, or a blind man playing folk melodies on an accordion with a small coffee can attached to the top, waiting for coins.
Sometimes Xylophone Man wears goofy sunglasses or a wrinkly mask with wild hair.
Last weekend, though, he sat plinking on the xylophone unmasked, his blue eyes cloudless. I gave him a martsishor. He seemed cheered, tucking it securely with the money he’d collected so far that day.
The red and white tassels cheer me, too, in this month that is half lion, half lamb.
Nicole Sheets is a Barboursville native and Peace Corps volunteer in Moldova. Her e-mail address is moldovanicole@yahoo.com. Her column appears on the Life page the first Sunday of each month.
