"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. 

The Kids of Peace Corps Moldova

The first Moldovan I met was four years old.

She's arguably my favorite human being in this country. My little Moldovan host niece, who, when I was dropped off at a strange house just hours after getting off a plane, came into my room to unpack for me (AKA, try to try on all my bras and ask what everything was for when I knew literally zero words to tell her). She successfully overwhelmed me and made me forget how freaked out I was, simultaneously. I shortly fell in love with her and she brightens my entire life whenever I get to see her, which is not often enough.

If you look at the Instagram account (or photo album) of almost any Peace Corps Volunteer in almost any country, you'll see pictures of children. I just looked at #peacecorps and there are PCVs teaching children, playing with children, taking selfies with their host siblings.. (There are also pictures of animal traffic jams and huge spiders and stuff, but let's just focus on the cute kids.) 

Why do we connect with the children so much? Why is an 8-year-old the only person in my village who got me to stop crying when I was doing so much of that? Why do I love the English club I have with the 4th graders, even though I don't want to be an English teacher EVER? Why do I keep going to the preschool even though I don't really have anything to do there? 

The kids seem to be capable of so much more love, in such honest and meaningful ways. It's not like they're likely to speak English - I can't always communicate with them. We're not going to talk about life and love or our hopes and dreams, but we can play catch and they can race me down the street while I ride my bike home. They give good hugs and they're always so happy to see me. 

Maybe it's some fascination with the American that makes them want to play with me. Maybe they think the way I talk is funny. Maybe their relatives my age have moved abroad to work. I don't know, but I don't care. PCVs in Moldova will joke about "hanging out with our friends at site" because it almost never means that we're hanging out with people our own age. Our "friends" are the kids, because they want to spend time with us. If they question our outfit choices or ask why we're not married yet, it's curiosity rather than the judgment of the older generations.

There have been a few events lately with the children, so I'm adding some pictures from those. The first few are from "Adio Grădiniță" which is the final program for the group of children who will start at the school in the fall. This is the group I work with, and I LOVE them. They are so sweet and always happy to see me. Even if I'm not visiting them, if I pass by the grădiniță while they are outside playing, I will hear a chorus of "Domnișoară Catea! Domnișoară Catea!" ("Miss Cat! Miss Cat!") and they will all rush to the fence to see me and wave. At Adio Grădiniță, there were poems, songs, skits, and dances. It was a typical preschool program, but I liked it even more this time because even though I haven't been hanging out with them for the whole year, it's like the school year is ending and my little ones are graduating! Sort of. It's going to be so exciting to see them at First Bell in the fall. 

It's just like America, but with an accordion.

Roman (right) trying to pose for this picture but getting scolded because he's supposed to be posing for another one.

My little host cousin, Ana, dancing along. She got in trouble quite a few times because she was very distracted.

The next event was called Ultimul Sunet, which means Last Bell. Our school goes up to 9th grade, and then they must continue at the raion center. So at Last Bell, our 9th graders graduate. Awards and diplomas are handed out, speeches are made, there are dances and songs and poetry. I work with the 4th graders with English, so I was super excited to see them dressed up in the crowd because that meant they were going to perform a dance! They were so precious. And they must have won some sort of contest for their dancing because two days later, they couldn't come to our Children's Day celebration because they were performing their dance at the raion center! I don't even teach them dance and yet I'm so proud. 

Kids getting awards - the graduates wear the sashes (they're sparkly so obviously I want one).

The 4th graders dancing.

Aren't they precious?!

The 9th graders during their "flash mob."

The last event was Ziua Copiilor, which means Children's Day. Apparently this is an international event, celebrated in a few different countries, including Moldova. It's on June 1st, but we celebrated it the day before, as it was a Sunday. The mayor told me to come at 9 or 10, but to ask my host mom because he wasn't sure of the time. She told me 11, so I got there after 11, because I know no one ever starts on time, and I think I was late but it didn't seem to make much difference. I found a kid I knew who wanted to talk about phones and how to put music on our phones..

And then the mayor saw me and told me to come talk to him. He was at the bottom of the steps to the Casa de Cultura, which is at the center of town and where big events are held. Speakers and performers stand at the top of the steps. I see two MCs and some of the women in charge at the school up at the top, and the mayor joins them, so I remain at the bottom of the stairs and the program starts (or continues? I don't know how late I was).

Then the mayor gestured for me to join them "on stage" so I went up, and he said, "So you're going to give a speech, okay?" Hahahahahaha whaaaat? To my credit, I didn't even panic. One or two people went before me with a speech, and then it was my turn to speak unrehearsed Romanian in front of the entire town (okay, it wasn't the whole town, but it was a LOT of children and their mothers/grandmothers). But I just said that we don't have Ziua Copiilor in America, so I thought it was very interesting and fun, I wished them health and peace (always safe bets), and I thanked them all for their friendship. It's not how much you say, it's what you say. Right??

Then there were songs, dances, poetry.. (Surprised?) The day finished with the hora and a distribution of a bunch of packs of sidewalk chalk. The kids all decorated the street while treats were delivered, and each kid went home with a juice box, a chocolate bar, and an ice cream bar. I didn't get any of those things, but some of the grownups did have a masa afterwards at the mayor's office, and I DID get a Snickers bar at that. So all was well.

1st graders dancing and singing

The hora!

Roman and me!

My place of honor with the other official people, surrounded by a girl reading poetry and the MCs.

So while I don't have near enough energy to play with the village kids all the time (and sometimes they try.. and sometimes I hide), I do love them! They can easily improve a bad day and they are just such sweethearts.

Why do PCVs spend so much time with children? Well, have you seen them? They're adorable. Why do I hang out with them? They're nice to me (mostly). My perceived competency is NOT important - I don't have to worry about looking stupid or speaking terrible Romanian, because none of them are going to think, well Catea doesn't know enough to do her job, does she? They give good hugs, and sometimes good advice (you should go home and rest!). They want to hear what I have to say and they want to be my friend. So with all of that, why wouldn't I? 

Let Girls Learn - Girls In ICT

Have you heard the First Lady talk about Peace Corps lately? No?! You're behind. Catch up. 



Now that that's settled, aren't you excited about Let Girls Learn?! With this program, Michelle Obama is collaborating with Peace Corps in 11 countries - and Moldova is one of them. From the Let Girls Learn website about Moldova: "In Moldova, 25% of female youth believe that "wife-beating" can be justifiable. Education and empowerment are needed to combat dangerous social norms. There are 120 Peace Corps Volunteers in Moldova working with communities on projects in English education, health and community economic development." source

While ICT education is not education about domestic violence, it is something I find myself passionate about for girls, not only in Moldova, but all around the world. Men outnumber women in most STEM careers (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math). And WHY? Why can't we be scientists and engineers too? (My dad is reading this and thinking, well then why were you an art major...? I told you to take Calc 2!) But studies show that even girls who are passionate about technology don't choose to pursue careers in it! If girls in America don't think they can do this stuff than certainly girls here aren't sure either. So if I can empower them to learn skills in these areas, I feel that I should. 

Girls In ICT is a global effort by the International Telecommunication Union to encourage girls to consider careers in technology. In Moldova, GirlsGoIT is a program with the support of UN Women, Novateca (the libraries program I work with), and a few other organizations. Last week, GirlsGoIT had an event for girls called Girls In ICT, so I took two of the girls I know from my English class to Chisinau so they could attend. 

While the thought of being responsible for two 11-year-olds (who don't speak English) in the big city was slightly terrifying, it turned out to be okay. We got there early and walked around the parks to see the monuments of Chisinau, which they hadn't seen before. Then we went to the event, and we were the youngest attendees. ("We" meaning "them" because I'm pretty sure I was actually the old lady there.) 

Massage train - photo courtesy of GirlsGoIT

There were two presenters - one woman talked about different presentation software to use online, and the other woman, a graphic designer, talked about how to make a good presentation. There was about an hour and a half for both of them, and then an hour to actually make a presentation using one of the programs they had discussed. It was a little tough for the girls I brought, because it turns out they didn't quite know as much about using computers and the Internet as I had assumed, but one of the presenters was excellent about working with them and they were quick learners!

Photo courtesy of GirlsGoIT

Each girl who attended the workshop made a presentation and sent them to the organizers of the event - voting is currently open (do it here, if you'd like! Some of the presentations are in English) and I believe that the girl whose presentation gets the most votes will win an internship with e-Government Center Moldova!

Photo courtesy of GirlsGoIT

Hopefully we can work on learning more IT skills back in the village with more kids, girls AND boys! I'll just have to learn some more specific Romanian, perhaps...

Want to know more about GirlsGoIT? Sign the manifesto here. 
What about encouraging girls in Moldova to pursue STEM careers? Here's the gofundme page for a book called Elena the Engineer - they are fundraising to send it to 500 libraries in Moldova!
And about Let Girls Learn? Here's the White House page and here's the LGL Peace Corps page. 

Join the Movement! - Photo courtesy of GirlsGoIT

The Penguin Dance

Are you ready, are you ready?!! 

Well wait a second. 

In case you aren't caught up, the mayor asked me to teach a dance to the kindergartners for their International Women's Day program. Each class had one, but they gave me the oldest class (6 and 7 years old) to teach. They wanted it to be American, but they don't speak English, so I had to do something simple that I could translate and teach. I learned the penguin dance in college and since then have taught it to adults and kids at camp. It's simple and I figured I could easily translate it, which I did. Then I taught it to the class, and today was the big day! 

I wasn't there for practice yesterday but they apparently practiced it without me.. But I didn't know how it was going to go, and everyone's mother was there (it's a Women's Day program but that essentially means it's like a Mother's Day thing - every other poem/song was about how beautiful their mothers are) and everyone was dressed up all fancy, so I was kind of nervous, even though I wasn't even on stage doing it. 

I thought I knew when in the program it was, but it turns out I didn't, so I was always nervous at the wrong times. There were cute skits, dances, songs, poetry.. Then they said, "Acum, pinguinii!" so I went up to "direct" AKA, make sure they didn't mess up. 

I'll just let you watch it now. 





It's even more precious in tiny prom/wedding dresses, right?!! 

It was foarte successful and I'm so proud of them!! The moms even got me a flower and after the kids ate lunch, the moms and I drank beer and ate pretzels while the kids played.. So that was interesting. I mean, I should have expected it, but for some reason I didn't. 

Enjoy some pictures!