Host Daughter

One of the similarities that spans across all of Peace Corps is living with a host family. Every volunteer, that I know of, spends at least the first few months of their service with a host family. Many volunteers choose to stay with their host family their entire two+ year service creating a bond that not many people will ever get to fully understand. Today, I will explore this unique sort of relationship with you.

As a host daughter I have lived with three families. One family during my training, one family at my first site, and now my host family at my permanent site. These families consist of host country nationals willing to open their homes to us Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs).

When I arrived at my first family, my training family, they quickly ushered me in to the house, set me up in my bedroom, and shut the door. I was confused, am I supposed to stay here? This was my first night in Moldova, I didn't know any Romanian, and the one greeting they had taught me on the bus ride to the village I had already forgotten. I quietly opened the door but, stayed in the room reading a book. One of my host sisters walked by the room, I looked up and smiled, she shyly smiled back and proceeded to close my door. For the next week I would try and leave my door open. As a previous resident assistant I know that leaving your door open invites community building, and even though I couldn't speak the language I could awkwardly smile, and that's better than nothing, right? Every time I opened the door a member of the family would come by and quietly shut it. I wondered why they were doing this. I wondered if it was my fault, if I wasn't trying hard enough. A few weeks in, and my door still being shut, and my confusion mounting, I mentioned it in one of my classes. Surprisingly I learned, that in the host family training the families are taught that the biggest difference between Americans and Moldovans is our need for privacy. They were taught that above all they were to allow us to have alone time, to not disturb us if we were in our rooms, to let us live the way we are used to in America. So, my door was being shut because my family was nervous they would be disturbing me if they spoke to me, or entered my room. After learning this I couldn't help but laugh, they would shut my door and I would get up and open it. They must have thought I was crazy, playing this weird game of cat and mouse with my bedroom door. I quickly learned the phrase "I want to keep my door open", their confusion was lessened when I added "I like seeing you". It was a small oddity in our relationship that was easily resolved but remained as a funny adjustment cork you would never experience in a hotel or hostel, a unique quality of a host family.

To the families back home in the US, you should sleep comfortably knowing your loved one is being well taken care of. Less than a week after I moved into my permanent host family, my host mom was referring to me as her daughter.  And, as a daughter I am held to the same responsibilities as any member of the family. I am to tell host mom when I am leaving, where I am going and when I am returning. I am bundled up in the cold like a person entering the great abyss of Siberia. I am scolded when my rubber rain boots are found with snow crusted on the heel because "Brittany, those are not appropriate winter boots. Your toes will freeze and they will have to cut them off". I am given the parts of the chicken that 'the Americans like'. I am coached along at dinner parties by my host mom, who is the only person in this country who somehow understands my Romanian and I hers. Life with a host family quickly allows you to create a unique bond, a mutual understanding, and face a challenge with great reward.

But, at the end of the day these families are opening their entire lives and hearts to allow us volunteers an opportunity to live a life in line with their culture. Other than a meager stipend, all these families have to gain is the constant presence of a person who is often confused by everything, and stumbles around the language and community until they are able to find their own unique grip.

For us volunteers who enter these homes we are reminded of the innate good of mankind. We are shown the beauty of a new culture through the eyes of its people, and from these experiences we gain so much more from Moldova than we could ever hope to give in return.