Postcard From Nowhere

Adrift in a country that doesn’t quite exist, MATTHEW CLAYFIELD gives thanks for cheap vodka.

- Matthew Clayfield

Every morning in Transnistria, the self-proclaimed Eastern European country that no other country recognises, there’s a run on the banks. You wouldn’t think there’d be much demand for a currency like the Transnistrian ruble, which is useless beyond a thin sliver of land along Moldova’s eastern border with Ukraine.

But every morning the banks are full, locals withdrawing what they need. The quote-unquote country is heavily reliant on remittances from elsewhere, and signs displaying exchange rates – the dollar, the euro, the Russian ruble – pepper every corner. If you’re one of the very few tourists who come here, you take your passport inside (the ATMs are either empty or won’t accept your card), sign a plethora of paperwork, and exit bearing a wad of nothingness. A shot of vodka is the equivalent of 50 cents here. The wad of nothingness doesn’t need to be massive.