Vacanță - Christmas Eve

The first semester ended last Friday, and as I posted in Facebook, it was a semester that I will remember for a very long time. It's very hard to believe that I've been in Moldova a little over 6 months now. It seems like at least 3 or 4 years have passed. Each day zips by, but continues to be packed to the hilt.

And now, while the students are on vacation, I get a brief respite to gather my energy for the next semester. Yet, there is still so much to do. I am planning classes for the next semester, trying to decide which play to perform for English week in April, making plans for an upcoming training for the Peace Corps which will take place the middle of January, and even in my dreams I am teaching English.

Still, I'm making time to relax as well:
Christmas Eve was spent at Jennifer's apartment. Jennifer and her boyfriend Kit (both volunteers as well) hosted an incredible dinner for a number of other volunteers to celebrate the holidays. For volunteers faced with the potential of being alone on Christmas Eve (in Moldova, Christmas is celebrated on the 7th of January by most people), this was so incredibly wonderful. And it was made even more wonderful with the terrific company and great food! A heartfelt thank you to Jennifer, Kit, James, Richard, Darnell, Matt, Laura, Natashia, Andy and Alexandra for a lovely celebration!

Jennifer assists while Andy carves



Kit carves the roast beast

There was roast duck, the requisite mashed potatoes, salads, stuffed mushrooms, shrimp scampi and other goodies that we don't often get to eat here in Moldova. For dessert, Jennifer made fudge and Christmas cookies!

Then, we had a magical surprise with three children knocking on the door to come in and sing us colindas or Christmas carols. All in all a magical night.

E Iarna

The seasons are much more sensible in Moldova. There's no waiting for the solstice, no breaking the month of December as being Autumn until the 21st and then Winter. Instead, Winter starts promptly on the 1st of December. "Vine iarna" (Winter comes) is a common phrase when the first snow falls, or the ground is frosty in the morning. While the average Moldovan seems to need - but despise - rain, the feeling about snow is quite the opposite; it's not needed, but it is loved.

Many of my lyceum-aged students had teze (themes - semester tests) last week in English and several other subjects, and as I read the essays from the 11th form, the idea that was repeated many times was that one can find Heaven on Earth if one only looks to the beauty of snow.

Snowball fights during the breaks.
Some of them thought it was fun to throw at Mr. Tim.

From the seemingly endless questions in Romanian about whether I have ever seen snow before, or if there is snow in the United States, to the literal banshee cries of NINGE!!!!!! of the students if it happens to be snowing during a break, to the nearly manic descriptions of what it will be like when there is over a meter of snow on the ground, it is easy to tell that there is a love affair with snow in this country -- at least from the young people. But, even my host parents seem to act a little more spry when they see the snow.



Snow in the schoolyard.

Today, I went running in the snow with one of my students, and it was like running with an extremely playful otter. He was doing flips to land in the snow. We met up with some younger students out with their sleds on the nearby hill and Cristi borrowed one sled to show them how to do it. "Mr. Tim," he said afterward - out of breath, "that was the first time this year that I sledded. Oh, it was so fun!"

Naturally, I can't help but make comparisons with snow falls in the U.S. Here it is a matter of course that the snow will climb above a meter, and that many roads will close, but since a significant percent of the population walks, their is no concern. As long as the main road into town is plowed so supplies can get to the stores, there will be food and water. Even the old folks take the snow in stride, careful in their steps and hunkering down when they can.

In comparison, I'll never forget the panicked calls I would get at my stores in the Seattle area if there was a threat of snow (even a centimeter high) for two days in future. People would storm in to stock up on pet food, "just in case!" Here, there is no run on the stores; no stressful faces. There is only studied concentration of footsteps and the oft spoken, "frumos" (beautiful).

First Snow

unexpected

delicate
crystals wash
the cynicism
from the city

turn pavement

to playgrounds
roads to slides
and we are all young

the calendars are now correct

winter has come
and cast its spell

look, over there

he must be 50
and yet caught
catching the odd flake
on his playful
pink tongue

Sunt Profesor de Limbă Engleză

No way! It's official. I've been in Moldova for six months, and what a ride it has been -- both disappearing too rapidly and seeming like it has been at least 5 years.

Sunset over Ialoveni.

I still speak Romanian poorly, but I can definitely hold my own with my host mother while we have so much fun discussing politics, history, traditions and religion. Of course, her favorite subject is trying to find a suitable wife for me.

I'm digging deeper into Russian, but finding it a very confusing language to pronounce, let alone to understand.

_________________

More importantly, I am teaching English!

I'm hip deep into teaching the 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th forms (grades) on a wide variety of subjects in English, and truly adore the students. I even adore them when they are obraznici (literally cheeky) or they just stare at me as if to say, "what ARE you talking about?" And, there are lots of those days. :o) I've walked up to several students and asked calmly and slowly, "Do you understand anything that I am saying." They just smile and say, "Nu înțeleg." (I don't understand.)

The manuals (textbooks) are very challenging for these students. When I say a variety of subjects, I mean a variety. For the fifth grade, we just finished talking about school and what you do after school. The sixth form is discussing having dinner guests and which side of the plate to put a butter knife (something that is not often used in Moldova). The eighth grade is discussing leisure time, films, sports, and music. Currently the ninth is discussing animal rights and health hazards. The first page in their textbook was about The Big Bang theory! The tenth grade is  discussing life choices, while the eleventh grade wrapped up "The Seeing See Very Little" by Helen Keller. And, finally, the twelfth form is discussing etiquette at a museum. As you can see, the English teachers in Moldova must be versed in a variety of subjects and their vocabulary must be huge. This is a difficult task if you are not a native speaker -- and sometimes when you are.

Words like calisthenics, gnarled, ample, albinism, inquisitive, connoisseur, entertaining, misbehave, bustle, rustle, ecology and cultural values, quiver, countenance, thistle, nosegay and hoarfrost are a part of their necessary vocabulary.

Then add to that 4 tenses, 26 aspects of verbs, sentence structure, the gender of nouns, the plural of nouns, articles, the negative form of sentences and the interrogative form of sentences, adjective order, adverbial clauses, reflexive pronouns, possessives, etc., and you begin to get a sense of how difficult this is for these students. All of them know Russian and Romanian, and several are taking other language classes such as French, German, and a couple are learning Japanese on their own. This is on top of required classes such as history, biology, chemistry, math, etc.

Truly, some of these students are BRILLIANT! My job is to keep reminding them of that fact and encourage their progress in English, which is required by the Ministry of Education now for the 2nd grade through the 12th.

But, my joy is după lecții (after lessons) when I have the students who really WANT to learn English. I had a talk with the principal at the school the other day, and she asked me how things are going. I told her I love it all, but my true heart was after lessons. Those kids shine like a galaxy of hot suns. They are each so talented and so willing to open up their minds to soak up the ideas. And they are learning English at an extremely accelerated rate. Two months ago, several of them could barely say "hello" and now they are discussing the present progressive and translating. What's more amazing is how oblivious they are to their progress.

I have Grammar Club on Tuesdays. Yes... a grammar club! Can you imagine, students in the United States asking to have a separate hour once a week to discuss grammar? Believe it or not, it's well attended, and they seem to really enjoy it. Nothing is more fulfilling than to have one of my students who attends Grammar Club come up to me after a test and say, "Wow, Mr. Tim, it was just like we talked about in Grammar Club!" This followed by ever climbing grades.

Debate Club is a constant surprise. I don't know if these students will ever actually debate, and I doubt that they really want to debate, but it is pure magic to watch them get so caught up in arguing a subject that they completely forget they are speaking in English. And they soar! Sure they use the wrong tense, and pronounce things incorrectly, but to listen to them give their opinions on various subjects is a joy.

Then there's my two adult classes a week. We started with 5 students, and are now up to 16, and each week there are more. These are true beginners and they laugh so hard at their mistakes and revel when I tell them in Romanian that they sound just like an American. "Er, ir, ur" sounds, along with "th" sounds are the most difficult for them, but they keep trying. I told them that the way they say "hamburger" is just not right, and so each week we keep practicing with that word, and they WANT to say it with conviction for Domnul Tim. These are my dance lessons. I get to waltz through pronunciations and sing sibilants. The students give and take and we hardly notice that an hour disappears so quickly.

On top of these classes, I teach a group of 5th graders separately twice a week, and work with some 9th graders and the niece of my host father (a 4th grader) on Sundays. In between all the teaching, I plan for classes with each of my 5 partner teachers.

I've been very blessed to have some incredible partners. We really do have some fun classes, and the students respond. One of my partners is an official of the Ministry of Education, so she has decided that we will teach teachers and once a month we have a large meeting with other English teachers to discuss various topics. The first meeting, in September, was for new English teachers to help them learn the ropes. The second was geared toward me and was about grading and reading essays. Next week, I'll have a third one about working with groups. As volunteers, we are required to have three open lessons or seminars during our two years service. I'll have 2 open lessons and 3 seminars in the first 4 months of teaching.

My school is awesome, and I'm slowly integrating further into the community there. Because I speak in English all day, my Romanian is not as advanced as I would like, and this serves as a barrier to getting to know some of the teachers, but somehow I can understand my principal very well, and she is one of my adult students. She is amazing! Strong and direct, Doamna Balan is a terrific ally, and we are working together to increase the technology in the school, and improve the learning of English. She wants to put Lyceul Petre Ștefanucă on the map.

Evidently, my workload is a little heavier than many of the other English Education (EE) volunteers.
We are required to teach a minimum of 18 hours and most have 2 or 3 partner teachers. I also have 24 regular hours of classes, 14 hours after regular hours, the two adult classes, my Sunday lessons, the two after-school clubs, and am working on Skype with several students to improve their English-speaking abilities. I find a book in English for these students, and then I listen to them read for about 15 - 20 minutes.

My day starts typically at 5am and I roll into bed, barely able to keep my eyes open, at 11:30pm. But, I'm not complaining. I have always loved staying busy. There is something extremely spiritual in staying in the moment. And I love being a teacher!

School Reporter Gets the Scoop

One of my many gifted students interviewed me for the school newspaper (of which he is the editor), and the principal of the school liked the interview so well, that she reposted it in the local internet news about Ialoveni. Here it is for your reading pleasure... in Romanian.

(INTERVIU) Tim Schneider: „Sunt străin în ţară, dar vin cu pace!” - I am an alien in this country, but I come in peace.

http://ialovenionline.md/index.php/opinii/2257-interviu-tim-schneider-sunt-strin-in-ar-dar-vin-cu-pace

Thanks for making me sound so good, Nick.

The Language of Crows

There are crows everywhere here in Ialoveni. They circle every evening and night, and they make me think of magical things. When I was young in Japan I read a story about a little boy that turned into a crow. I have a children's book now in both Romanian and English called, "The Crow King." They have always been birds of mystery, and they are more so here in Moldova. Sometimes I think I'm the only one who can see them as the rest of the people around me seem to ignore them completely.

By the way, Moldovans have a saying, "Don't be a white crow."

The Language of Crows

Crows gather

in the white-barked birch --

strange dark leaves

that absorb the last rays of

November sun.

My mind is cloudy

with crows.

They fly in clusters

dotting the sky

like the musical notes

to some half-forgotten tune.

 

A Moldovan Moon

They grumble and curse --

old men discontented

with life,

raucously calling each other

crude names.

I keep listening,

wondering when

I will begin to understand

their cryptic code

of used-to-bes

and might-have-beens

 

Theirs is a language of vagary

and head bobbing;

their vocabulary

is of the vernacular.

 

Only their piercing

black-pearl eyes

describe how they really feel

as the light dies

and they sing the birth of the

waxy November moon.

English Lessons

As I teach my adult class and one of my extra 5th-grade classes - "I would like..." and "Would you like...?" This poem came to me.

English Lesson

I would like...

What would you like?

I would like to dance.

To dance? You would?

I would. Would you?

Would I? To dance?
Yes, to dance.
You would like to dance?

I would. Would you?

I would. Shall we?
Shall we?
I would like that.

Let's.

Aren't we?

Aren't we what? Dancing?
Just.
Aren't we just?
I would like that.

Let's.

A Pleasant Weekend in November

On Thanksgiving Day, while I was working, I made a point of telling my students about this wonderful holiday that we celebrate in the United States, how much it involves family and how we take turns around a very large meal (masa mare) to tell everyone what we are most thankful for. In fact, I also told the same students how thankful I am to have them in my life.

So, I kept the holiday in my heart, if not in actuality as there was no one to celebrate with, and my family and friends are so many hours behind, that it was the middle of the night when they were sitting down to dinner.

But... the weekend certainly made up for a quiet Thursday.

I am very thankful for Jennifer Kitson and Luma (both volunteers in the Peace Corps who also live very close to me here in Ialoveni). They provided their apartment for a wonderful dinner with several other volunteers, and it was a lovely afternoon in which we actually got to enjoy some carne de curcan (turkey). Lots of people raise turkeys here in Moldova, but few roast the birds. Instead they put the meat in stews and soups.

At any rate, we had an absolutely beautiful afternoon treated to a great meal, Christmas music, terrific conversation and wonderful hospitality. Thanks also to Kit, James, Natasha, Britney, Richard, and Charlie for sharing the dinner and bringing lots of great goodies to eat. Kit is a great chef.


James and Natasha

Then Sunday I was whisked away to Suruceni (a nearby village to Ialoveni and the birth village of my host father Valodya) for a birthday party for one of my 4th grade students (Valodya's niece). What an amazing day full of incredible food and fun. I was struck by the fact that although it was a 10-year-old's party, the primary celebration was with the adults. In fact, the kids were in another room having their own party.

While Moldova may be a poor country, no money is spared for food on special occasions. A masa is a full-blown food-coma-inducing affair. Plus a little alcohol is added to supplement the food consumption. Although I was the foreigner in the group, I was treated as one of the men, and despite some ribbing about being a spy for Mr. Obama (who really sent me here to discover the secrets of Moldovan barbecue), I was treated like an integral part of the family and included in all the conversations.

Once or twice, the conversation switched to Russian, but someone quickly translated into Romanian for me so that I would understand. Several times family members commented on the fact that after 5 months of living in the country I can converse better than a large number of people who have lived here all their lives, but never bothered to learn Romanian.

Aside from cooking the barbecue, the men pretty much were waited on hand and foot, and the women plied us with salads, various meat dishes, placinte, fruit, fish, mushroom dishes, and all the specialties of Moldova. Truly, a wonderful afternoon, ruined only by the fact that I had to get back to the house at a reasonable time to make lesson plans for the next day with several of my partners.

After the first round of eating, I begged to go for a walk in this very quaint village. Valodya went with me -- mostly because I think he was afraid I'd get lost. We walked up the street to his cousin's house, and were treated to the best house wine and sweet walnut honey. I am constantly amazed at the friendly hospitality of the people here.

All in all, it was a most pleasant weekend in November, and still I have so much for which to be thankful. Everyday is truly a gift here. So much happens in one day, in one weekend, that I almost feel I'm living lifetimes in a week. Thank you, Moldova! Thank you, to all of my friends and family. You have been so supportive and wonderful. Thanks for being there.

Chișinau

One of the reasons I count myself so blessed here in Moldova is that I have been assigned for the next two years to essentially a suburb of the capital city - Chișinau. (pronounced quiche-i-now) While the city boasts a population of above 750,000, in fact with emigration the problem that it is, many estimates put the population between 500,000 and 550K. But it is a true city in every respect, and it also represents Moldova with a lot of Soviet era architecture, memorials and parks.

Ștephan cel mare

Near Ștephan Cel Mare (Stephen The Great) Blvd., you can find the Piața Centrală -- a true symbol of Moldovan culture and enterprise, with literally thousands of stalls in an outdoor-market format, as well as very modern restaurants, hip clothing places, home design centers and just about any kind of technology you could want.

There are parts of this city in which I find myself wondering if I'm just visiting another city in the U.S., especially when standing outside one of the three McDonald's franchises in the city, or outside one of the countless and ever-popular pizza joints. Toucano Coffee house boasts some fantastic teas and coffees that are every bit as good as Starbucks if not better, and most of the workers speak English very well. My favorite pizza place is Pizza Mania because I know the owners (one of whom lives in Ialoveni), and his son lived in Missouri for three years, so they make pizza very well. It's fun to even watch it being made.

Because I am so close, unlike many other volunteers, I can easily make the trip into Chișinau every Saturday for church and usually a meeting with some other volunteers. I especially enjoy hanging out with James Tiger, another gung-ho English Education volunteer, and the only other mid-career volunteer my age. We have some fairly in-depth discussions regarding religion, politics, and teaching English.

I've thoroughly enjoyed a number of parks, gone to several concerts and done some necessary shopping. And many of the restaurants outshine those I visited in London. 

I will leave you with some architecture I took this weekend. It may seem a bit gray, but some that is because it gets dark here pretty early now that it's November.

Autumn in Moldova

Life has been very been very hectic here in Moldova as of late, with long days and lots of lectures every day. Being an English teacher and a native speaker carries quite a bit of weight. On one hand, my time is very much wanted and appreciated. I've been approached by all sorts of people from young children to adults, business people to students -- all interested in speaking English better.

And, there is a stigma attached to this as well. Sometimes I feel I'm not quite a human being, but an English-teaching machine. Mr. Tim doesn't need rest, he's a teacher. Mr. Tim doesn't need to go out and chat with the people in the town because he's a teacher.

And then... and then, one of my shy adult students makes me homemade placinta (an incredible bit of deliciousness here), or one of my high school students paints me a garden that makes my jaw drop, or several of my students insist on taking Mr. Tim out running so he stays healthy, or one of my students creates a piano composition to match a poem I wrote, and another invites me to join a nascent science fiction book club. There is also the sheer joy in watching the students get lost in debating integration for Moldova and forget for a moment that they are speaking in English about a complex topic and they don't have training wheels. In short, every day I marvel at the generosity of spirit, the potential for greatness and the joy of learning that I see around me. I am truly grateful to be here.

The hardest thing, I've found is to make sure to take even a half hour for myself. For my own satisfaction. I often don't think to take a break from grading essays or planning for the next day, to simply write poetry, take photos, go for a walk, etc. But yesterday, when a student backed out of a typical Sunday lesson, I took that walk and it was just so amazing. I saw my first deer here in Moldova. It was a brief sighting to be sure, but it was a sighting. I found a patch of wilderness that was so beautiful that my host mother, on seeing the photos, asked me if I was sure these were taken in Moldova. She knew they were as she saw me take my camera on my walk, and she smiled proudly and said, we really do have some beauty here too.

So, for your viewing enjoyment:

Autumn Hillside

With you life is more sweat.

"With you life is more sweat."

These are the actual words from one of my incredible students. And, I couldn't help but laugh so hard when I read them. I know he meant "sweet," and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but the fact that he wrote "sweat" is both true and it points to a quite a hill that we have to climb with the English language.

First off, the sweaty truth: I've started running with this student and several others in the evening, and we are up to 8K. They can outrun me any day of the week, but they are so patient and caring about watching out for Mr. Tim and stick right beside me, ready to grab me if I should stumble. They make regular comments in Romanian, like "You have really good form for your age," and "Be careful of the cars, Mr. Tim." I taught them the word "knucklehead" and they love it when I reply, that they should stop being knuckleheads and that I'm not THAT OLD. :o)

There is also the figurative sweat that I bring to the classroom because I expect to see them grow. I expect to see them tangibly develop their English abilities. There are those students who shoot me sniper-beamed looks of hate, but there are a growing number of students who are also rising to the challenge, coming to after-school clubs and lessons. Some are writing. Some are debating in English. Some are simply honing up on their grammar skills. But they are all sweating as they exercise their brains.

The hill that must be climbed is one of the difficulty of learning English. We take so much for granted when we speak English, much as the kids here do with Russian and Romanian. We can't always answer the "why is it done that way" questions about English grammar, and there are literally thousands of exceptions throughout the various rules of spelling, grammar and pronunciation. In fact, I challenge you (my readers) to take a look at the following poem to get a sense of what I mean just about pronunciation: http://www.mipmip.org/tidbits/pronunciation.shtml To spur my students on, I tell them that if they can learn how to pronounce this poem correctly, they will pronounce English better than 90% of the world's native English speakers. This gets them excited. They are nothing if not competitive.

And so, we sweetly sweat while building confidence and English skills at the same time. I'm just so grateful to have these incredible students in my life.

I leave you with a poem I wrote while some of my students were writing a test paper:

Tested

The sun sifts dappled

into the classroom
where students take their tests.

Autumn Path outside of Ialoveni, Moldova

Warming
to the information
trying to understand the perfect
tense and structure
the sentence.

They have no sadness,

no fear of losing
this moment. No worry
that the sun dancing on the floor
will still be there
this time next year.

They move in the now

and consider only the problem at hand
reaching for the definition
of living
with a certainty
that is crisp in its fragility
and thick with oblivion.

 

Why We're Here

To all my readers, you're likely to hear this a lot, but I am really sorry I have not kept up with my Blog.

When the Peace Corps used to say that this was the "toughest job you'll ever love," that was absolutely stating the case. I really love each day here. Every day has lots of challenges including getting up at 5 every morning and heading to bed at 11:30 after doing almost nothing but working in between. But the joys... Every day I get to see an "aha" smile on a student's face. Every day there are literally hundreds of children who offer shy and not so shy "hellos" and "Ifinetankyou" when I ask how they are. There are wonderful volunteers with whom to share my stories and frustrations. There is so much poetry to write. The food is great. The people are kind (except in the stores), life is amazingly good.

And everywhere there is beauty -- sometimes raw and wild, sometimes sophisticated, and sometimes breathtaking -- but real beauty; the kind of beauty you can only find when you turn off the television, walk away from the computer and actually look around at the world that is right in front of you.

Then I heard about a student of one of our volunteers who was only 10 years old who took his own life yesterday because he ran out of hope, and it reminds me why we are here: life is very difficult in Moldova. Our goal is to help the students realize their potential and to co-facilitate the development of a better-working education and community for these kids. We must show them that we are constantly hopeful for a brighter tomorrow and that, indeed, things will get better.

For Nicole -- I send you hugs and the affirmation that your heart is big enough to reach out to all your students. Put on your bravest smile tomorrow, and know that we all love and support you and the great work you are doing.

For Victor -- I'm sorry we didn't know how bad it was. May it be so much better for you now.

A Poem Inspired by my Students

Sparrows

At my office door

the students jostle

each other, fighting

and fluttering,

cocking their heads

at a jaunty angle.

Wings flapping,

they chirp anxiously

in a new language

trying out the words,

uncertain of what

they want or whether

they will get it.

One or two have pin feather

awkwardly sprouting,

and they squawk overly loud,

wanting to be the first to be noticed –

the first to be fed.

They circle and flit

eying me like some

dropped grain,

some new crumb

of different,

uncertain of whether

they should boldly dash in

to grab it before the others do;

tentative and leery of a trap.

Some will return to search

and scratch

among the English

for the half-eaten kernel of a word,

while others will peck among

the shells for the odd phrase

or quirky idiom to sing.

But maybe,

maybe if I'm lucky

a couple will settle,

eat from my hand and teach me

to fly.

The Roads of Trușeni

There are so many beautiful aspects of Moldova. So many things that remind me, indeed of Kansas, like the rolling hills of NE Kansas, the small forests of locust trees, wild fruit trees, walnuts, so many of the flowers and plants are identical to our own heartland. The people too are in many ways similar to those I met in Kansas – here too, people care deeply about their faith and family. Neighbors go out of their way to help neighbors and it seems that everyone knows every other person of their village. That's one of the reasons that we Americans stand out so much. We are alien here, even if we don't have horns and scales. But, that is for a different blog.

Among the differences, there is one thing that seems to really stand out and that is the roads of Moldova. I also believe, that most Moldovans would agree heartily that many of their roads can barely be named roads – more like goat trails. On my very first visit to Trușeni, I was told, „Drumuri în Moldova sunt foarte teribil.” (The roads in Moldova are very terrible.)

All summer long I walked up and down this incredibly long and steep hill in Trușeni. And, in actuality aside from the brutal heat, or the incredible mud (when it rained) it was a Godsend. I managed to lose about 22lbs on that road and had a chance to let my mind settle after long hours of training and to prepare my mind every day on the way down the hill. And -- I miss this most of all -- my host brother Gelu and I would make the trek every three days or so all the way down the hill with several 6-liter bottles, visit the well and walk back up with them. It was an opportunity for me to listen to the profundity of his thoughts and challenge his teenage nihilism. But, more than anything, those treks back and forth made me feel a part of the scenery, a part of the family, like a real big brother.

A view from my hill into the village of Trușeni.

Several Moldovans who either dropped me off, or came to pick me up for events said it was "the end of geography”.

So the gods of the road not only stole 22lbs from me (which I was happy to sacrifice), but they also greedily consumed a nice pair of dress shoes and a pair of flip flops.

This particular road of which I speak had deep crevices where the rain gouged it, and the only walkable area was also where the daring drivers drove their varied vehicles, often seemingly aiming for the poor pedestrians that shared the road with me. Pedestrians simply had to head into the weeds to get out of their way.

It was nothing to see Bunice (grandmothers) carrying water up the hill, little kids in their Sunday best, or proud Moldovan women in their very high-heel shoes going up and down everyday. Bunica asked me for some glue one day, and I asked her what it was for. She needed it to glue the soles of her two-week-old Italian-leather shoes back together after the road chewed on them for awhile.

And then one day, a grader went up the hill and flattened out all the crevices. That was cool except for two things: A) it created a chalky dust that blew everywhere and turned my black shoes (with a mandatory Moldovan shine) completely gray when it was dry and, B) turned the road into a quagmire of mud when it rained. Naturally, the mud completely destroyed shoes, so a friend of my host family sent a truckload of building materials and had them deposited in the middle of the road. Gelu and I became instant muncitori [moon-chee-tor] (workers) and shoveled and hauled brick, plaster and assorted poly-styrene to create a path for the family to step on after the rains. This was hard but extremely gratifying work. Somehow, knowing that I was having a direct positive impact on the welfare of my host-family's feet and shoes made me feel like a thousand bucks. And... I felt somehow more like a real Peace Corps volunteer, helping to build a road.

 

I asked a Moldovan engineer if anything would be done about the roads in Moldova or Trușeni, and he simply shrugged his shoulders and said there was little the country could do. This was simply how it is in Moldova. There are more important things upon which to focus. So, the roads of Moldova will continue to be bad, but somehow they make the people a little more genuine, a little more neighborly, and a little more understanding of each other as they have a common complaint.