Moldova is one of the least happy places on earth, and Weiner decides to visit there after his overdose of happiness in Iceland. He points out that "as a general rule, the more fucked up a country, the more said country insists on crisp bills." I found this to be true when traveling to Moldova's neighbor to the west, Romania. We had one hell of a time getting some of the banks to take our money. Any small tear, or sign of age was cause for rejection. We even had a merchant in Mexico refuse to take our pesos because the bill was too dirty.
One possible reason for the Moldovan's unhappiness is that they don't help others, even when doing so will help themselves. They won't pitch in to fix a problem that will benefit everyone. Frankly, I think this is why people in Bridgewater are so grumpy. The town is full of trash, but people don't pick it up. People don't want to pay taxes, and we watch our property values fall.