July 15, 2009 – New beginnings
The adventure started out with a groggy 5:45 alarm. I rose and left the house in a hurry. I traveled to the bus station in perfect Moldovan fashion and even was there 20 minutes early. I sat awaiting my bus’ arrival at the designated 7:25 in the morning spot only to ask someone at 7:20 where the bus was. For some reason they moved in down 3 stalls. Crisis avoided, I was off to my new village for my site visit.
The bus ride was perfectly fine. I talked to a very nice woman who turned out to know my new partner. Here wasn’t much that came of that talk information-wise but it was still cool to make a connection like that. I also talked to a few good-looking women with such pick-up lines as “I have a green shirt” and “What is the temperature today?” and after an awkward conversation with my teacher I realized I mistakenly said “I am virgin” rather than the preferred statement “I am a big child.”
So when I got to my village I went straight to my future job site and we had a masa—big lunch, lots of food and drink. I met about 6 people including my partner, all of which were very nice and friendly. My partner is an older gentleman that seems to be a very wise. The office was small but nice. I believe I will be working with two of the people that were at the masa. Their names are Ivan Ivanovich and Natasha.
Over the two days I spent the majority of my time walking and exploring the community. It is definitely a small town, but something that will be manageable. One of the most interesting characteristics about the town was all of the old communist monuments—which carry much more meaning than just a part of history.
As for my new host family (grandma), she was a complete sweetheart. The house is nice and her Bulgarian neighbor is hilarious. She is already trying to marry me off to some Bulgarian women in the village. All villages are all different with their predominant language, some speak Romanian, some Russian, and some Gaguazian (a form of Turkish), as well as others. My village is predominately Russian with Bulgarian and Gagauzian mixed in. My host mom is a very small, cute 70-year old woman. I doubt if she is taller than my belly.
Food is definitely up in the air in this village. The last day for breakfast there was a plate of 6 cookies lying on a plate each complete with a half-inch of butter. It was not my favorite breakfast thus far. My stomach has been on the fritz every since. I’ll spare you those details, that is for privileged PC volunteer talk—a subject that dominates most conversations.
Well that is all for now. I have plenty to talk about although I have had limited time to do. I have many tests and projects that need to done in the next couple of weeks. So bare with me.