My Family in Moldova

"Have you been crying today?" she asked as we sat down to coffee and sunflower seeds at the kitchen table that I hadn't eaten at for over a year. 

How did she know? Besides the fact that I'm, um.. known for my tears, she knew because she's my mom. My "host" mom, sure. But she has been as much a real mom as she possibly could be for the last two years, even though I only lived at her house for two months when we first arrived for training in Moldova. Recently I went to visit my training host family after spending much too much time apart.

Our first Country Director said something about host families - even though you spend two years with one and two months with the other, often you'll have a stronger connection with the first, short-term family than you will with the one at your permanent site. She said this tends to be the case because when you get to this new country and you know absolutely nothing, your training host family has to teach you literally everything. When I arrived at Angela's house, I did not know one word in Romanian. I didn't know how to ask where the outhouse was (it took me two days to even try - don't ask), or how to find the school where I'd have lessons. When you can't communicate, it feels like you can't do anything, so that first family really has to help you learn how to live again. Of course this would form a strong bond; in order to survive, they are what you have. 

A few hours after we landed in Moldova, we were dropped off at our host families' houses. I was shown my room, I sat down on the couch, and then a tiny person came in to investigate. She was adorable and I didn't understand a word she said, but I knew she wanted to help me unpack. I was hot, exhausted, nervous, kind of scared, and maybe a little panicky.. But then she started trying on my bras and asking what literally every single item was for, so I was able to forget about some of those feelings for a little while. That was just the beginning of our being best friends. 

Day one in Moldova with Ionela.

Ionela was 4 years old when I arrived, and she was a little firecracker from day one. During our two months of training, she played with me, learned how to give me commands in English ("Come to eat, Catherine!"), fixed my hair, went through all my things, cuddled with me, drove me crazy, and forced me to watch Frozen about a gazillion times (who are we kidding though, I obviously started it - it's a quality movie). And I loved having her around; she was like my baby sister who I couldn't quite communicate with but who loved me just the same. Now she is 6 years old and she starts school in the fall. It can be hard to see time passing when it feels like every day in the village is the same, but when you walk into a house and see that the little girl you love so much is suddenly not as little, you realize that two years have indeed gone by. She is still perfect, wants to play 24/7, dreams up little kid scenarios, says I'm Anna and she's Elsa, and sleeps in my room with me. When I left to move to my permanent site, she sat in my suitcase so I couldn't pack. I already know she'll probably be the hardest person to leave.

We tried every single Snapchat filter roughly a hundred times each.

 Nina and Virgillia are my sisters, too. Two years ago when Nina finally came home from school or dance practice or somewhere and could speak some English to me was the best thing. Now I could communicate a little more easily! That summer they took me swimming, and out with their friends, and let me and Ionela join in on their YouTube workout sessions. Nina helped translate for me and Virgillia could occasionally convince Ionela that I did indeed have homework to do. 

After we had our coffee and sunflower seeds, mom asked, "Have you had any cherries yet this year?" I hadn't, so of course we had to go out back and pick some! Mom climbed the tree and passed handfuls of perfect cherries down to me, which I stuck in my pockets that were quickly overflowing. I spent the next two days just hanging out with everyone - playing with Ionela, walking to the store with Nina, attempting to make placinta, surprising extended family members at their house, even getting to see host dad on Skype. 

I'm thankful to this family because in just 15 minutes I easily feel more part of the family than I have in the whole two years at my permanent site. I often wonder how different my service would have been if I'd been fortunate enough to have such a caring family to live with the whole time. 

I remember one of my first days in Moldova, I sat down to dinner with the family and Nina said, "Catherine, you don't like fish, do you?" I may have avoided it in the lunch they had packed for me that day (and possibly another time or two). "No..." I said sheepishly, hoping that wasn't a deal breaker. They all laughed and said something like, aha, we thought so! Don't worry, it's fine! That night I truly felt like part of the family, and I'm pretty sure it's because they told me I was. Americans in Moldova use the term "host family," but not every host family uses it. It's normal to us to say "host sister" and "host dad" but to a lot of hosts, that doesn't really make sense. But here I am a sister and a daughter, and I have sisters and mom and dad. 

They still remember the list of foods I don't like to eat, and the first words I learned (puțin, puțin! - a little, a little! aka self-preservation during masas). We all remember how in the past I could barely hold a conversation, and now our world is completely changed because I can. Two summers ago, mom would make me breakfast and then get back to working around the house or in the garden. Now she makes me breakfast and sits down to chat. 

I had such a great time with them that I ended up staying even longer than I had planned, and I thought it would be my last visit, but I hope to make at least one more trip out there to properly say goodbye. Which I know will be practically impossible. There's so much more I could say about how much I love this family, but I really just want to say Thank you. Thank you for taking me in and helping me survive and being my family and loving this weird American girl that was put in your house for a summer. And please come visit me in America! Because I can't live without you.  

As I left the house again, mom and Ionela walked me out to the road and hugged me goodbye. "If you ever feel like you want to cry, just call me, and we'll talk through it," mom said. A simple statement that ironically makes me want to cry, because of how thoughtful it is, and how we never would have been able to do that two years ago. Now that we can finally communicate, it's time for me to go. Pardon me while I go cry about it. 

Something of Impact

At our Close of Service Conference, we were supposed to prepare something for the "Something of Impact" session, where we all talked about how awesome Peace Corps was something impactful from our service. It could be anything. It WAS anything. 

I did not share. 

I had this prepared forever in advance, had written notes in my journal (which I carried to each session) so I wouldn't forget anything, and we had already placed bets on how many times I'd cry. But everyone said such great things - I laughed, I cried, I was inspired. So I thought, yeah, I can't do this. My natural "emotional basketcase" state plus a mountain of insecurity at the time just led to my sitting there listening to everyone else talk. Luckily I have a bunch of amazing supporters on my team, who said they still want to hear what I had to say. So here it is. 

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I can, with relative confidence, walk the mile or so from the bus stop to my house on a moonless night.

You're probably thinking, okay... great job, Cat. How is that Something of Impact? 

My site is a small village that's three hours from Chisinau on a good day. We don't really have paved roads, and we have about 4 streetlights (and 3 of them are right next to each other). When I first arrived, my host mom made a big deal about the fact that there was a streetlight outside our house. I eventually realized that it was literally on just for me. Someone was paying to have that streetlight on because the volunteer, the American, lived there. 

So when I first got to the village, if I returned to site at night (which I tended to do, due to bus schedules), I would have a few streetlights, hopefully a moon to light the way, and my flashlight (or, more accurately, the light on my phone). And I knew I was getting close because I had the streetlight in front of my house to guide me. In other words, I had a lot of help making my way through the village. 

The road isn't terrible, but if you don't know it, it can be a little treacherous. There are holes to avoid. It's uneven. If it's rained, there are perfect places to step so you don't get as muddy. (The American is not good at finding these perfect places.) You never want to step directly where the cows have traveled on their way home.. 

Maybe you see where I'm going with this. In the beginning of my Peace Corps service, I needed a lot of help. I had my village looking out for me (with the streetlight at my house), I had my program staff, cohort, and people back home helping me out (maybe they're the rest of the streetlights), and I was trying to make it on my own (with my phone to light the way). It was really hard at first. I might trip, or make mistakes. Dogs would come out and scare me, or I would get homesick. Even if I tried to do everything right and not step where I shouldn't, some unforeseen obstacle would come out of nowhere and upset me or make me fall. It was really frustrating at times, especially when I would leave for a weekend and come back to new holes in the ground to avoid. 

But it got easier. The road got renovated a little, and I started to get used to the life I was living in my village and in Peace Corps. I felt a little more sure of myself. I cried less. I had successful projects, and English classes, and trainings, and I was helping other PCVs. I became more comfortable in the work I was doing and the way I felt about it. I could speak Romanian. I felt relatively accomplished (most days). I knew which dogs had a bark worse than their bite and which ones were just curious about the American walking by. They turned off the streetlight, and I was okay. 

Now I can walk from the bus stop to my house on a moonless night. That maybe doesn't sound so impressive to you. But without streetlights or natural light to show the way, most of the walk is completely dark. I'm doing this on my own, and I think I'm good at it. People don't keep lights on in their houses; cars don't drive by to shine headlights for a little while. But I'm used to it. I know where to step, I know what to do. 

I don't need to make such an effort to keep myself from falling.

Sure, there is still opportunity for me to slip up. A flash of something in the road that isn't normally there; being told I have to run important meetings using a bunch of vocabulary I'm unsure of. An animal might appear suddenly; I might have an unforeseen complication with a grant. But there are still a few streetlights and at least I know where I'm going.

And on those nights when it's completely dark and I'm making my way slowly through the journey, I've got you guys. I've got all these beautiful stars, these constellations, some of which I know like the back of my hand and that I know I'll be seeing for all of my life, that make the whole trip worth it.

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Love to you, M29, my moon and my stars. You turn the darkest night into a breathtaking masterpiece. We've come so far, and I'm forever grateful that you've been there for me this whole time (whether you're still here or whether you've already gone). We did it! Vă iubesc, și mi-e dor de voi deja. 

Catch up.

Has it been a hundred years? 

I know, it feels like it has. I've got some soul-searching posts coming up (obviously), but since it's been so long, I thought I'd tell you what's been going on in life since the year started. 

January: 

• Rang in the New Year with friends in the capital of Moldova.
  
  
  
  
• Had a food-filled, binge-watching stay-cation during the winter holidays with a friend in my village.
• Went on vacation to beautiful Romania with yet another friend and had potentially the most relaxing week of my recent memory.
  
  
  
  
• Enjoyed a few snow days in the village - because we literally couldn't get out of our house; there was too much!
• Found out my COS date - my last day as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Moldova is going to be July 7, 2016. Right now that's just three months away (cue panic attack).
  
  
  
   
• Helped out with the M30 Project Design and Management Conference, mentoring, answering questions, and occasionally translating (but jeez their language is good!). This was a lot of fun; the COD group gets some really stellar volunteers.
• Ran a 10K in the underground cellars of the Cricova Winery. I know, right?
  
  
  
  
   

February:

• Made 60+ Valentines to deliver to PCVs - if I could have thought of anything else clever to put on them, I would have made them for even the PCVs I don't know.
  
  
  
   
• Helped my village apply for a volunteer to take my place (IN THE VILLAGE BUT NOT IN THEIR HEARTS). 
• Spent a romantic Valentine's Day eating so much food and watching so much television with a friend in her village.
• Went on vacation to beautiful Poland, where I met my cousin and his girlfriend and had the best time! We did Krakow, Auschwitz, salt mines, and Warsaw. Spent a few days by myself (and with new friends) after they left, which was also spectacular.
  
  
  
  
• LEAP DAY IN MOLDOVA! This wasn't actually very special but I did spend the whole day doing only relaxing things that I wanted to do. 

March:

• Celebrated International Women's Day (a few times) with my village, including a super fancy banquet at the raion center that we packed 12 women into a van to attend. I'm getting hungry just thinking about all the delicious food we had there.
  
  
  
   
• Celebrated a friend's birthday with a weekend filled with fun and games. 
• Hosted half the raion PCVs at my house for another weekend of fun and games, including a hike to the lake, #buddyyoga, and a kick line or two.
   
  
  
• Filled up my third journal. 
• Helped teach a computer usage seminar in the raion center library. This involved planning and teaching about browsing the Internet and setting up an email account, and made us pretty pleased at our Romanian skills. It was oddly a lot of fun to teach middle-aged Moldovan women about how to use the computer.
• Met a friend's boyfriend and sister when they each came to visit, including a wonderful trip to the Mileștii Mici Winery, which holds the Guinness World Record for the largest wine cellar. (See, don't worry, I'm still "wining.")
  
  
  
  
• Attended and gave a presentation at the Regional Experience Exchange for libraries in our part of Moldova, where we learned about projects in other communities and talked together about advice and plans for the future in our libraries. 
• Did 30 days of yoga in a row (and still holding strong in April so far with the intention of doing 30 more!). 

I never think I'm that busy and then I look back and see all these things I've done in just the first three months of the year! Now I've got three months left to pack in as much (or more!). 

There's a lot in my plans for April (working on my final project, meetings with the health center and villagers to inform them about said project, a Bible Study retreat, another 10K, visitors to my village, our COS conference..) so it doesn't look like things are going to slow down anytime soon. I'll try to take a breath once in a while and pay attention to what's going on around me, and be thankful for the time I've got left. 

Good things about the last couple of days: • delicious weekend of shopping, sangria, and foooood • the weather has been LOVELY • my bike quit working on the way to work but before heading home, a guy outside the Primaria fixed it for me, no questions asked • coffee • new whiteboards to use during English club! • meeting fellow crybabies • productive meetings with the mayor • yummy colorful salads • Gilmore Girls • outdoor yoga • YOU, for reading all of this!

Behind the Gates

Pretty much every house in my village is enclosed by a gate. That doesn't seem to make anyone any less likely to invite you in, or to shout out a "Good morning!" as they see you pass by. But they've all got a gate. My house has a brick fence separating the yard from the street. Which is a good thing, because we don't want our chickens roaming all over the village! (Though if they did, I'm fully sure they'd come right back at night.. They're pretty good at that.) 

So what do we have behind ours?

Behind the gates and behind the house, we've got a fence in our backyard too. This separates the garden from the house. It's much brighter than this picture, as my host mom and I repainted before the winter came. Behind the house, we've got a small garden, an outdoor shower (on left in this picture), and fields. We've also got a "casa veche" right by the house, which means "old house." Sometimes these are called "casa mica," which is "little house." They might include bedrooms, kitchens, or storage rooms. They could be literally a little house and include almost everything. When I first moved in, we would eat in the casa veche, but now that we have a kitchen in the big house, I personally don't use it for much. One part of it is where we keep potatoes and 300 huge sacks of flour for baking (slight exaggeration). 

In the main house, we have a kitchen (this is new-ish, we didn't have one when I arrived. My host mom would cook on hot plates, usually outside. Now we have a stove and cabinets and a warm, colorful place to eat and entertain.), a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a few rooms that aren't used for much. Occasionally we will entertain in one of them, but mostly they are empty. Moldovan houses sometimes have a room where they keep their nice things, and that room might be used for big get-togethers. 

One of my favorite things about some Moldovan houses is the metalwork on them. This is right in front of our front door, and the detail is just so cool! I first started noticing these works of art while in my training village, and I was really happy to see that my house at my permanent site had a great big one - it felt like a sign. 

A real bed tends to be rare for PCVs in Moldova. A lot of us have pull-out couches to sleep on. Luckily, mine is very comfortable. I usually leave it as a bed, but sometimes make it a couch for yoga or dancing or other fun things! (Okay, it's one of the two. The only other thing I can think of is maybe a large craft project, but those are rare.) 

"I can see Ukraine from my house!" But seriously.

One of my favorite weekend activities is to bring a glass of wine or mug of coffee out to our back balcony and sit there to read, looking out at the valley. Some nights there are a million stars, some afternoons there are people working in the fields, and some mornings everything is covered with a fresh blanket of snow. 

Though I called it one, it's not technically a valley that I'm looking out at. In the village (and in Moldova in general), we call anything that's above us in elevation "the hill." Anything below us is "the valley." This river separates our fields from the valley. My host dad built this bridge once the family realized I like going for walks or jogs in the valley. I'll usually pass a few cows, and occasionally a horse or two. 

My host family doesn't have too many animals. I've been told that they used to have cows, but now all we have are chickens and a few dogs. In the summer and fall we'll have geese, but they'll all be killed and canned before winter comes. When the weather is nice, the birds sometimes get to roam free, but they never escape the gates. 

We have two wells, which are usually where I get my drinking water from, but we have running water in the house, too, so I often use that as well - after boiling and filtering it. As far as conveniences go, we are fortunately equipped with a shower, indoor toilet, and even wifi - my host mom likes to Skype with her son in America almost every day, and I also might enjoy the use of the Internet. We're currently heating our house with wood and charcoal in a soba, or stove that heats the whole house. 

My house is very comfortable, so I'm fortunate in that respect, as many other Moldova PCVs don't have all those luxuries. I enjoy my little space in the house. You can either find me in my room, the kitchen, or outside on the balcony when the weather is nice (or if my host mom isn't home to scold, when it isn't nice! Sitting outside under the cover of the balcony is lovely during a rainstorm, or even when it's cold, as long as I bundle up!). We've got a lot behind our red gates! 

This is part of the #BloggingAbroad Blog Challenge!

Happy New Year!

I like it when January 1st hits and we have a new year. I'm completely ready to start using my new planner, which I buy months in advance anticipating all the new artwork and blank pages to fill with plans and goals and hopes and dreams (no, seriously - my new planner is adorable and feeling neglected - thankfully it's time to use it). Is it a little silly that we wait until the 1st to start resolutions and vow to complete our bucket list and chop all our hair off and move halfway across the world..? Yes, obviously it is. We all know it is. If you want to make a change in October, you should just make it. But that doesn't stop the new year from feeling like it's got so much promise. 

Although, this new year doesn't feel so much promising as it does terrifying. 2016 is not 2014 or 2015. (I know what you're thinking - yes, obviously! Only on her second paragraph and she's clearly lost it!) In 2014, I knew (essentially) what was going to happen - I was going to leave for Moldova in June. I'd spend half the year at home preparing in a million ways and the other half in another country, training and learning a language and settling into my new home. In 2015, I knew (essentially) what was going to happen - I was going to spend the entire year in Moldova, working on different things and making new friends and being only the greatest PCV my village has ever seen (sorry Heath and Julia, don't worry, they still talk about you guys too). 

But 2016? Half the year is still a mystery. Yes, I'll be in Moldova until at least July, which admittedly covers a lot of it. I'll finish up my last big project (Lord willing), hang out with some kids and teach them a word or two in English, travel a little bit, prepare myself to leave, cry a lot, have some heart-to-hearts over too much coffee (if there is such a thing), touch some lives, save the world - the usual. But then what? What happens after that? When I ring the bell - and when am I ringing that bell?? - that signifies our Close of Service.. THEN WHAT. It's blank. Those last 5 months of 2016 - what is going to happen? I honestly feel surprised that my new planner HAS those months included - don't they know that I don't know what goes in them? That I can't fill in those pages? That I can't predict that future? (Besides the crying. We know I'll do that anywhere.) I do know that I'll be going home, which I'm really excited about, because mi-e dor de casa. 

While I casually panic about next year, let's talk about the one that just ended. Because I did this last year and it was fun. 

In 2015, 

• I spent: 12 months in Moldova. My whole year as a PCV. Yes, I did leave the country a few times, but I lived here this whole time. Holidays on holidays, training new volunteers, meeting new people, summer camp, firsts, lasts, speeches, toasts, grand openings, tears, coffee, wine on wine on wine... And on that note, while not 2015-specific, I've been here a total of 576 days now. 
• I wrote: 32 blog posts here at Wining & Whining. I wrote a lot more than that during just the last half of 2014, so I'm assuming that means I was doing more actual work.. Or that I got lazy? Nahhh, doubt it. Most popular was the Penguin Dance! But I'm pretty sure that's because my dad watched the video about.... roughly a million times. He's probably 80% of the views on that video on YouTube, so.. Second place goes to A Year Of Days, which is possibly my favorite of the year, written at my one year anniversary with Moldova. (I mean, I love Moldova, but I don't think she's the one. It's one of those relationships that had a time limit from the beginning, like when you start dating at the end of senior year, or right before doing something ridiculous like joining the Peace Corps. But it's been nice while it's lasted. I think we've got a few more good months in us.) 
• I read: 50 books/14,399 pages, the most I've ever read in a year. My favorite of the year was If You Find This Letter. Honorable mentions go to Modern Romance, As You Wish, Sisterhood Everlasting. Truly there are too many honorable mentions, so these are really just the most recent favorites. 
• I traveled: 12,832 miles by plane (roughly). Including airports, I've been in 6 countries in 2015. I took trips to Italy and to the U.S., the latter of which included a road trip from Virginia to Wisconsin and back! Rutiera travel isn't even going to be part of this equation.. I would just start thinking about how many hours I've spent on minibuses and might just lose my mind.
• I filled: 1 journal full of daily happenings and drawings and thoughts and love stories and heartbreak and gratitude. I'm on journal #3 for Peace Corps and hope to finish that one soon, too. 
• I turned: 25. Now I'm a quarter century of amazing. 
• I built: a park, a life, some friendships.

I had life-changing experiences and trips and sunrises. I fell in love roughly 365 times or so. I've accomplished more than I thought I could, but still spend some days feeling like I haven't done anything. I've stayed out all night and made questionable decisions and continued to live with all this passion and emotion right at the surface of my interactions with people. I've wanted to quit and I've wanted to stay extra. I've met people that have changed my life, some through pushing me to greatness and others through making me feel like I'm less than great. I've done a lot of solo dancing and solo dinners and solo hours-long walks through the city - and I've gone weeks without any alone time at all. Sometimes I don't do anything for days and other times I fit so much living into such a small amount of time that I don't even know what's happened. 

In 2016,

• My theme for the year is going to be honesty. 2015's theme was optimism, which I think worked out pretty well for me. Now I want it to be honesty. I met someone this year who I thought was going to play a different part in my life than they ended up playing. Spending time with them taught me how valuable honesty can be. And honestly, that person isn't part of my life anymore. But I've taken some lessons from our friendship that I am keeping around, and expressing myself in exactly the ways I want to and believe in is one of them. But don't ask me if that dress makes you look fat. 

This year, I've worked really hard. And occasionally it's been really hard. But it's also often been really great. I think I can always look back at 2015 and be proud of myself for the things I did this year. The unknown of 2016 is scary, but it's also kind of exciting. And it's here whether or not I want it to be, so I might as well jump right in. 

I spent the last night of 2015 with great friends, fireworks, lights, and a whole lot of sparkles, so if that's any indication of how 2016 will be, I feel like I'm ready. 

La mulți ani înainte!

Maratonul de Craciun

Merry Christmas from Moldova!

My Christmas was far from Christmassy, but that doesn't mean I didn't do a bunch of Christmassy things leading up to it! More Hallmark Christmas movies than I can count, a sparkling tree, hot wine with Christmas music, and dressing up like Santa Claus to lead my team of reindeer down the streets of Chisinau. 

It's a good thing I've watched Rudolph 147 times, because it helped me keep my reindeer in line (just kidding, that was impossible - it did help us designate names for everyone though). There was a Christmas fun run in the capital that a bunch of PCVs decided to participate in (I say participate rather than run because our sleigh team didn't do a TON of actual running.. Why run when you can prance?!), and 10 of us dressed up as Santa and his reindeer. 

Don't think we've gone crazy or anything, because it was truly a costume run. While we may not have crossed the finish line even close to first, we definitely won first prize for team spirit, holiday spirit, most creative costumes, loudest caroling, most adorable, most fun, best team ever.. I'm sure I'm forgetting something! 

We got fun little gifts along the way, a covrigi medal, diploma to prove our achievements.. There was a lot of dancing, including the hora with all the other costumed participants, a lot of picture taking, and a lot of prancing! And of course, rewards afterwards in the form of brunch and beer. 

The reindeer were adorable with antlers, red lips, and holiday spirit! Santa rocked an '80s onesie, and Rudolph had her red nose to light the way for us all. Blitzen and Comet kept playing reindeer games, Dasher carried us through the 12 Days of Christmas singalong, and Vixen was the snuggliest of all! Oh, yeah, and we were tied together with twine, like a real sleigh team who loves each other so much they never want to be separated! And apart from a few wardrobe malfunctions, we never were. This added challenge really tested our endurance and friendship, and I'm happy to say that both held up. Because we're amazing. No one can say that we didn't win the day. 

Enjoy a million pictures! And here's a link to a news video with an appearance by our very own Rudolph the Red-Nosed PCV. 

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all! 

"Corner of Heaven" Park Grand Opening

I know you've been sitting at your computers, refreshing and refreshing Wining & Whining, just hoping I would finally tell the story of the completion of the park project I've been working on for a year. Well, today is your lucky day, because here it is! I've been slowly collecting photos of the day (it turns out when you have a park opening, it's easy to be so busy and overwhelmed that you just let everyone else take the pictures - but any in this post without credit are ones I did take), and I think I've found them all now, so here we go... 

The day before our Hram (or "village day" - each village has sort of a patron saint that we celebrate once a year with food, dancing, singing, and other events), the mayor sat down in my office and laid out the schedule for me. I thought for some reason I should trust this schedule, though of course I was out of my mind thinking that, because it did not go as planned. 

What he told me was that something would be happening at the cross near my house at 11 a.m., the park opening would be at 3 p.m., and then there would be trântă (which they couldn't explain), and around 6 p.m. the concert and dancing would start. He invited me to all of those things, and said he would pick me up around 11:00 for the thing at the cross. 

The morning of Hram, I woke up, had a leisurely breakfast, and got ready for the mayor to pick me up. I sort of question the necessity of this, as I've seen this cross and it's maybe two blocks from my house - I can definitely walk that far on my own. But he never comes and it's kind of chilly out so I decide I'll stay in rather than wander over to some event I'm confused about anyway.. Some time after 1:00 he calls and says he'll come now. I get dressed again (as if I'm going to spend hours looking nice when my sweatpants are RIGHT there) and he calls back saying, mmmm actually it might be another half hour or so, we don't want to freeze out there. It doesn't look that cold to me, but I wait another half hour and he shows up to drive me two blocks down the street. 

It turns out that this cross (which was erected some number of months ago; I remember noticing it while out on a walk and thinking it was very nice-looking) was built with the donations of a family from the village - a family of 11 children. ELEVEN. This event was the blessing of said cross, with the Orthodox priest, the mayor, probably all of the eleven, and any villagers that happened to pass by. Most of Moldova is Orthodox, and they put crosses, sometimes very elaborate ones, at intersections in the road to protect travelers from accidents and the like. The priest blessed the cross, the choir sang, and then there were some speeches and presentations of gifts. 

(By this time it's approaching 3:00, so of course my Program Manager and the Country Director are waiting for us at the park, and we are on the edge of the village getting holy water thrown in our faces.) 

One of the 11 pulls out a jug of wine, and since the mayor announced the American's park opening during his speech, the man brings it over to us first and lets the Americans drink (my friend has also arrived from the raion center!) - he tells us, "In America you all get your own glass, but in Moldova we all share one - it's okay because we're all healthy." Okay, cool.. Thanks for letting us go first. Appreciate ya. Then the mayor drives us to the park, where Peace Corps is waiting, talking to the kids.

The kids are apparently in the middle of telling my Program Manager that they know me (I think there was a short reenactment of the penguin dance!) and I am shocked at the sheer number of children that are hanging out outside the park. I don't think I knew we had that many children in the village, even. Sometimes a grand opening is symbolic and whatever is being opened has already been in use for some time, but not our park. It's been under lock and key - so a million children are just looking through the bars of the fence as if they're stuck behind them, which they kind of are. 

The mayor rounds up everyone (which is: a million kids, me and my friend Adrin, my PM, the CD, a woman from the raion center, and a seemingly random collection of a few adults) and we begin our opening. There's a sign with pictures of the process (and my name on it!), a Moldovan flag, and an American flag. We stand at one of the gates, facing all the kids, which is suddenly kind of intimidating. The mayor speaks, the CD speaks with translation from my PM, the woman from the raion speaks and presents us with some sort of certificate, and then I have to speak. 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani 

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

So in my 17 months here, I've given "speeches" that I've known about in advance, I've avoided impromptu ones, I've given impromptu ones, and I've suddenly found myself wanting to give them (this category is generally a toast at a masa.. after a glass of wine or two). I've progressed from being told about them and meticulously preparing index cards (okay, I only did that once) to declining to give them, to figuring I'd probably have to give them so I'd better at least prepare mentally, to today.. When I knew I'd have to say something and didn't prepare at all. I didn't know what to say! Of course it's not true that I didn't prepare at all, I thought about it for a while and I had some things in mind, but since I went last, everyone else had already said everything! So I stumbled through some of what I'd thought I would say, and then felt I was doing terribly and speaking awful Romanian, so I just ended with, OKAY GREAT LET'S GO PLAY or something equally horrid. It's even on tape..... So that's cool. 

We cut the ribbon and the kids SWARMED the place. It's not like there was even enough equipment for them all to use, but that didn't seem to make a difference. The opening happened around 3:30 and the kids were still playing when I left the center of the village around 11:00 p.m. - how cute is that! 

Photo courtesy of Adrin Vargas 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Adrin Vargas

We were then taken around to the back of the building that the park is adjacent to to see the trântă, which means wrestling! This was kind of traumatizing, because though we didn't stay for long, I had to watch my sweet little boys from English class fight each other.. I'm pretty sure I heard that my tiniest one lost a tooth while we were watching. (Although another one of mine won his "division" so I'm proud of him! I'm conflicted about it, obviously.) There were three "divisions" called "Rabbit," "Rooster," and ..I'm unsure of exact translation on the last one, but possibly "Ram." (Just noticed it's alliterative in English, so I'm into that.) I guess these are either weight or age, or possibly both. They were awarded prizes later on that night, and if you guessed that the Rabbit winner's prize was a live rabbit, you'd be right. The Rooster won a live rooster, and guess what, there was also a giant live ram, just handed over to probably a 15-year-old boy. I saw the end of this prize awarding last year and was so confused - took me a year, but now I finally know what I walked in on. (Picture me, walking onstage to find a struggling ram upside-down on the floor and wondering just what I'd gotten myself into in this country.) Regrettably, I did not capture that moment on film, so I'll just have to come back in 20 years for that.

After watching a round or two of trântă, the mayor wanted to take us back to the cross to show my PM and CD, so we went there and the family was still there. They invited us to their house to join their masa, so we did. It was really cool, and one of the bigger masas I'd been to. Our CD gave a toast that was translated, and the family gave a few in both Russian and Romanian that they had translated for the Americans. There was singing and they gave us colac, which is this twisted/braided bread that they present with candles in it for special occasions. 

Then we went to the Primaria so they could see the mayor's office, which was also set up with a masa for later, but we got to eat some right then, because the mayor had to share some of his wife's wine. He boasted that next year if they come again, they'll be able to try wine that I made. He told them that he considers me like another daughter, which was only one of the times I almost cried that day. The mayor even told the story (twice) of how when I first visited before moving here permanently, I cried for two days straight at the thought of having to live here, and then said, "And she doesn't cry anymore." (Well, mostly.) 

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Our Country Director gave a toast here, too, and it was really special to me. She talked about how just seeing this community for a few hours, she could tell that they love me and are taking good care of me. She said that she could tell that it wasn't just a community, it was a family. I'm thankful to be a part of that family (which I said later that night in my toast at the big Primaria masa, and definitely DID cry for) in my little village. The park has always been called "Corner of Heaven," or, "Colț de Rai." I don't know why my partner named it that, but we stuck with it the whole time. I thought it was kind of cute, kind of silly.. But this week I was riding the bus home from an unexpected, not-so-great trip to Chisinau, and as we neared the village, I looked out the window to see a little bit of sunlight breaking through clouds, the rays shining and looking as much like a corner of heaven as anything could have that day, or any day. I might have cried for two whole days when I first visited my village, but I think it's my Colț de Rai now. I'm part of the village family, and it's this beautiful little place (a "hidden gem," according to Adrin!) that I get to keep living in for the next 8-9 months or so. 

Photo courtesy of Primaria Caplani

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

Photo courtesy of Meredith Dalton

As for the park - as soon as school gets out, the kids head straight there to play. I've seen them playing at the park every day that I've been by. Since the opening, we've planted trees and bushes and everyone in the village seems really proud of it. We do a lot without tangible results, so it's nice to walk by and see the kids playing, and to get to join them (I only fit on the swings.. The merry-go-round and teeter-totter are, um.. A little small) and hang out with my little friends. So I'm really proud of this too! It took a lot of work and collaboration and adapting to craziness and some struggles along the way, but (even though I just talked about tangible results and smiles aren't quite tangible) the smiles on those tiny little faces make all the crazy worth it. Now we've got a little Corner of Heaven in our corner of heaven, in our corner of Moldova, in our corner of the world.