The past couple of weeks I have been in Phase 3 of training in my PST site Cirescu, a village close to the capital. This, Phase 3 of PST, is the training that comes after a volunteer has been working at site for six weeks. This also explains my 'absence' from posts. I won't bore you with the details of training, we learned Romanian, had 'tech' sessions, and spread the peace and friendship at the local bar. All and all I think we volunteers were just happy to get a chance to see one another again, things get lonely quick at site.
Training ended this past Friday and most volunteers stayed in the capital to take advantage of wine fest. A big annual festival to kick off wine making season. There were tons of vendors selling crafts, food and of course wine. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that everyone in attendance at this event was having a real good time.
Sunday it was time to head back to site, back to reality. The one observation I have gathered from being in Moldova is that when it rains, it pours. Back home, when it rains you can pretty much count on it stopping in a twenty minute period. In Moldova, when it rains, it rains ...and rains, and when you think it has stopped and you step outside it rains some more. So of course, Sunday, when we all had to crawl out of our comfortable hiding places in apartments and hostels around the city we were greeted by a rain cloud that seemed to cover all of Moldova. A stopoff at the PC office to change our soaking clothes, gather our belongs and our courage before our journeys home. I'm usually the type of person who likes to walk to my destination, if it is within a reasonable distance but, on a day like this no one who has to walk would have chosen to walk. So, I tucked my stringy wet hair behind my ear and asked the guard if he would be willing to call for a cab. His response was short and to the point "No". At first I thought he was joking, but than I remembered Moldovans aren't known for their sarcasm. I asked, why? He gave me the simple explanation, "it's raining, all the cabs are full". Begrudgingly, I pulled on my soaked rain jacket, tied up the laces of my blessed L.L Bean boots, strapped on my backpack that I had clearly over-packed and stepped outside into the storm. We raced as fast as we could to the north station to get our bus home but it didn't matter how quickly we walked, we were drenched. I'm still a little convinced that every car that passed meant to hit all those puddles that splashed against my legs as if to say "sucker, we got the cab you wanted". We finally arrived at the station, purchased our tickets and waited for our bus.
I have gotten used to buses over the years. When I was a teenager I would take the Trailways bus from northern NH back down to Concord on a regular basis. Something about buses is nostalgic, calming, a sort of; "you will get there, when you get there" mantra. Buses in the US however are well ventilated, with working heating systems. Buses in Moldova, I have quickly learned, are not. On the two and half hour ride back to my city, Falesti, I had hoped to warm up and dry my jacket and pants. This is the opposite of what happened, instead I sat freezing with my hands shoved inside my wet coat pockets, my hood up over my head, and a pathetic grimace on my damp face. Finally, the bus rolled into the station in Falesti.
I decided I had made it this far without a taxi, I could walk the next twenty minutes back to my house. I also didn't feel like haggling with the idling unmarked taxi cab drivers, a decision I regretted halfway home. When I reached my house I was so excited. I dropped my huge bag under the awning of the 'casa mic' (the small summer kitchen) and went straight for the 'veceu' (outside toilet). I went to open the door of the house and it was locked. I checked the two spots I was told the key would be in. ..no key.
Panic began to set in. And so, the internal dialogue began... Ok, what should I do? I'm cold, wet, tired and fighting some sort of head-cold sickness. Should I sit out here and wait for her? Maybe, she has gone for a walk? Maybe, she is visiting a neighbor and will be back soon? No, I don't want to sit out here, it is cold. I guess I could go ask the woman who works at the store on the corner? God, I hope the woman working isn't the one who only speaks Russian, then I would be really screwed. Yes, I don't see how I have any other choice. Ok, Brittany just go and get this over with, no one is here to help you, you have to help yourself right now.
I walked down to the store. The woman working that night I had met before, she seemed friendly and she spoke Romanian, win! I pieced together what I was trying to ask and gave her a look of desperation. Somehow, after I had said what I was trying to explain in a few different ways she was able to figure out what I was saying. She didn't know where host mom was, but she did have her phone number and was willing to call her for me. (Yes, now we are getting somewhere) Host mom, as it turns out, was in Chisinau with the keys to the house. So I was locked out of my own home.
The generous woman at the store offered to host me for the night at her house. I was humbled by her offer, but all I really wanted was to sleep in the room I had finally gotten comfortable in...and I had a skype date with my Dad that I didn't want to miss. A few phone calls later and the neighbor was over helping me break into my home. With some crafty work he was able to get a window open and climb through. It never fails to impress me how handy these Moldovans are. Luckily, the front door had a key so he was able to unlock it and let me in. He wished me a good night and was on his way.
I brought my big backpack into the house. Walked down to the store and told the woman working that my house had been opened. Walked home, took off my boots and climbed into bed. I turned on my computer hoping to catch my Dad so we could chat but quickly realized I was internet-less. So, I threw all the blankets I could find on top of myself and began to think about the day I had just had. It had been a long day. I was happy to be in my bed. A little worried about how easily my neighbor was able to break into my house, but luckily I was able to sweep those thoughts away as I drifted to sleep.
If only I had known what the next few days had in store for me...but I guess I will save that for my next post.
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