Last weekend I went on an adventure up to the little village of Oliscani to join in a 'girls weekend', celebrating the birthday of a fellow volunteer.
Saturday afternoon a group of boisterous volunteers piled into a routiera (mini-bus) and headed for the north of Moldova. We arrived in the little village in early evening, and walked through the muddy roads to our hosts home. From there we made the trip to a sauna where we would be spending the night. We indulged in delicious cheese burgers and onion rings before heading to the sauna room. It was a fun night of sitting in the sauna, dunking the cold waiting pool, and chatting with new friends.
The following morning a group of us made our way to the bus stop. Actually, it was less a bus stop more a corner of the road. We walked a mile and a half through the cold and fog to reach this corner, and there we stood and waited.
After about ten minutes a packed mini-bus sped by us, with a destination in the adjoining district. This was a good sign, at least there were buses running. The bus we were waiting for finally appeared another twenty minutes later. We were all freezing, and I believe I did a happy dance when I finally saw the bus. We waved it down, ready to hop on, and then it also flew past us, ignoring our flailing arms. The sinking feeling started to grow in our stomachs, at this point we just wanted to get in a moving vehicle, it didn't matter what, just as long as we were out of the cold and headed in the right direction. We began to feel pretty helpless knowing the next bus wasn't for another five hours, were we really going to be stuck on this corner for five hours? Finally, after our hopes had been sufficiently diminished, a miracle mini-bus turned down the street. We waved it down and sure enough, it stopped to picked-up all five of us, disheveled sleepy and cold girls. None of us cared that we had to stand in the isle. We were just happy to be on a mini-bus headed to our destination. When we reached the next district exactly five people got off the mini-bus opening up just enough seats to allow all of us to sit down for the remainder of the trip.
It ceases to amaze how things in Moldova have a way of working themselves out.
Happy Monday!
Saturday afternoon a group of boisterous volunteers piled into a routiera (mini-bus) and headed for the north of Moldova. We arrived in the little village in early evening, and walked through the muddy roads to our hosts home. From there we made the trip to a sauna where we would be spending the night. We indulged in delicious cheese burgers and onion rings before heading to the sauna room. It was a fun night of sitting in the sauna, dunking the cold waiting pool, and chatting with new friends.
The following morning a group of us made our way to the bus stop. Actually, it was less a bus stop more a corner of the road. We walked a mile and a half through the cold and fog to reach this corner, and there we stood and waited.
After about ten minutes a packed mini-bus sped by us, with a destination in the adjoining district. This was a good sign, at least there were buses running. The bus we were waiting for finally appeared another twenty minutes later. We were all freezing, and I believe I did a happy dance when I finally saw the bus. We waved it down, ready to hop on, and then it also flew past us, ignoring our flailing arms. The sinking feeling started to grow in our stomachs, at this point we just wanted to get in a moving vehicle, it didn't matter what, just as long as we were out of the cold and headed in the right direction. We began to feel pretty helpless knowing the next bus wasn't for another five hours, were we really going to be stuck on this corner for five hours? Finally, after our hopes had been sufficiently diminished, a miracle mini-bus turned down the street. We waved it down and sure enough, it stopped to picked-up all five of us, disheveled sleepy and cold girls. None of us cared that we had to stand in the isle. We were just happy to be on a mini-bus headed to our destination. When we reached the next district exactly five people got off the mini-bus opening up just enough seats to allow all of us to sit down for the remainder of the trip.
It ceases to amaze how things in Moldova have a way of working themselves out.
Happy Monday!
Dragă Brittany,
ReplyDeleteAm citit blog-ul dvs. și cele ale altor PCV în Republica Moldova și în România.
La fiecare 2-3 ani îmi doresc să mă întorc cel puțin pentru a vizita.
Citind blog-urile vostrii este o modalitate indirectă de a face o vizită.
Citesc si pentru a aduna informații despre unde să mearg și ce să văd. Nu ma gandeasem niciodata sa vizit Republica Moldova, dar acuma vreau. Tatăl meu sa născut în Iași, în partea românească de Moldova.
Am citit că un maior (Ion) isi dorete un steag american (de SUA).
Este el un maior ("Major") de armata sau primar ("Mayor") de oras?
În orice caz, aș dori să trimit la dvs. sau la el un steag, ca un gest de prietenie. Va rog să-mi spuneți dacă există interes.
Mulțumesc,
Michael Ovidiu Dediu