A Year With Host Mom

How do you bond with your family? In my experiences its developed over years of living together and loving one another. But, how do you bond with a host family? It was a new experience for me, coming to Moldova and living with a host family.

At first it's just down right awkward. Not only did I not know the language, but I had never been placed in a situation that resembled this before. I didn't know where I fit in, what my role was. Was I just a person renting a bedroom in their house? Was I just the strange foreign girl who spent a lot of time in her room? At first this is how it feels, just trying to blend into the background and not ruffle feathers.

But then, after about a month of quiet dinners it's time to make the move towards a new sort of relationship. I started slowly with host mom, bringing up simple subjects to discuss. Before I knew it we were talking about our lives, our hopes for the future, advanced subjects of conversation that later I would think about and wonder how I understand anything that was discussed. Host mom (this is her name to me thus the lack of 'my' in front of host mom) has easily become my best host-country national friend in Moldova. I tell her everything and in turn she does the same. It's a pretty great relationship, I find myself missing home (in Moldova) when I am way in the capital or visiting other volunteers. I consider myself exceedingly blessed to have been able to live with her.

This week marks a full year in Nisporeni, and a full year with host mom. We have come a long way. In this year not only did I meet her, but I got to know her and her family. This past year I attended family parties, helped with house work, went to a family christening, attended a wedding, made house wine, conserved fruits and vegetables, had visitors, and began to call Nisporeni my home. I can honestly say that after this year living in Nisporeni I will always call Moldova my second home. Peace Corps is a roller coaster ride for emotions, health, and mental well-being, but I have had many of my high moments here when simply sitting at a table drinking tea with host mom.

Our latest form of bonding has come from a Turkish TV series, Suleyman Magnificul, we watch every Monday and Tuesday night from 8-10:30pm. The series is in Turkish with Romanian subtitles, if asked a year ago if I would be reading a foreign film in a foreign language I would've laughed. But, without fail we watch, it's dramatic and over-the-top and host mom and I can't get enough. Later in the week we discuss what happened and our predictions for the next weeks show. --'I don't think she killed him.' 'I agree but, she does have a temper. I wonder if the Sultan will bring her back to court because he loves her.' -- These are the things that bring us together, the things I will always remember from my time here.

Multumesc mama gazda, a fost un an placut cu dumneavoastra. Sper ca inca un an impreuna cu multi fericiti.
Thank you host mom, it was a enjoyable year with you. I hope we will have another happy year together. 

Peace to you, on this last day of October.

A Simple Weekend

Well, the cold has arrived and with it the rain. And, so I will write of my simple and happy 'weekend in'.

I opted to stay at site this past weekend and spend some quality time with my host mom. She and I have grown close and I enjoy the long conversations we have about all facets of life.

The weekend started after work Friday. I found myself brewing up some hot spiced cider and reading in my big cozy bed. A perfect way to end a hectic week.The following morning I took a trip through the rain to the local shop, just a few blocks from our house. Host mom wanted to make soup for dinner so I volunteered to pick up the cabbage. I hid beneath my black umbrella, its purpose quickly waning as the holes in the lining grow, hitting my face and hands with cold drops of autumn rain. I returned home without everything host mom had asked for, the shop was out of peppers. She didn't mind, the soup could still be made without the peppers. As she chopped and stirred the soup we chatted about how fun it would be if she could come with me to America, we could open a Moldovan restaurant, she could cook and I could do the books. What fun she had laughing about the prospect.

My host mother is truly an amazing woman. Having grown up with four sisters and a brother she has countless stories of her childhood and fond memories from her weathered life. She moved around Moldova when she was young, living near sisters who had moved away from home, but finally her husband Mihai was able to wrangle her in, and she has lived in Nisporeni ever since. The home she has built would make anyone proud. With her husband working abroad for more than a decade she has put her time, resources and care into making her house a comfort for even my first world tastes. But, its not just the house that she has built, but the life she has built, to truly be proud of. My host mother is one of the kindest women I have ever met. She works hard as the accountant for the local pharmacy where she is fifty percent owner. She looks out for her neighbors and often invites people over for dinner, just to make sure they don't go to bed hungry. She is patient with everyone, especially me, which I am so thankful for. Above all of that she has integrity and compassion that can only be learned from years of living a full life.  

 The weekend ended up more livelier than both host mom and I had thought, with the arrival of my host sister and her husband on Saturday evening. I found out she would be coming following my lazy Saturday afternoon nap. I made my way into the kitchen confused to find host mom preparing several different dishes. She had already made the soup, on a normal weekend that would be both our lunch and dinner, something was up. I asked host mom what she was doing, she turned around smiled and responded 'Olga is coming'. After speaking with her daughter multiple times that day it seemed she had won in persuading her daughter to come for a visit, contingent on the preparation of a few favorite dishes. It was a welcome surprise after a gray and rainy day of tea and movies.

My host sister, Olga, is a spirited young woman. She commands the room and always makes a statement with both her beauty and her bubbly personality. I am quite reserved as compared to my host sister (this might come as a surprise to many of you). She is quite the Moldoveanca (female Moldovan), her tall slender frame and her always pristine makeup make her easily the object of passerby's affection. But, she is more than just her beauty. She works hard and has created quite a career for herself, constantly jetting off to international conferences all around Europe. It is always a pleasure when she comes home for a visit. She always livens up the mood, and shortly after her arrival pop music is streaming throughout the house.

That evening we toasted with cognac and house wine. What were we toasting? Who cares! We made the visit a celebration, who needs a reason beyond that? The following morning we all woke up to find host mom yet again hard at work in the kitchen making another meal to warm our tummy's.  I decided today I would try and make an apple pie for everyone. It is apple season after all, and any excuse to fill the house with the aroma of cinnamon I will take. After looking at recipes I opted for a much simpler apple tart recipe. I must say, I have become quite the cook in the past few months. I guess cooking and baking aren't as horrible as I had made them out to be. And, the end result is so delicious. I got the stamp of host mom approval and a request to make it again soon, don't have to ask me twice.

Sunday afternoon Olga left to get back to Chisinau and host mom and I fell back into our routine. The weekend ended just as it had began. With a big mug of hot cider and a good book, all tucked into bed.A perfect way to prepare for another week.

Peace on this Monday ~