The Limitless Ocean

And here almost another two months have passed us by and it feels both like only a week has passed and simultaneously a whole lifetime.

This really has been an incredible period for me, these first few months of 2010.  I received my first responses from schools in January and am actually still waiting for the last one.  So it has, needless to say, been a very long and emotional process.  But very exciting.  I wanted an easy choice -- "just one school please" -- and instead got an avalanche of options.  I tried to remember to feel glad to have these options, grateful for the opportunities that were throwing themselves at me, but I continued to feel stressed, saddened to have to let some of these options go.  And with every response my emotions changed a million times over.  So while I'm not going to waste time with the play-by-play, I'll tell you that the predominant lesson was in telling myself to wait "just a little longer" because I knew that it wasn't time to make a decision yet; there were still more factors.

And perhaps it still isn't yet time, but it feels close.  And out of respect for the schools I will likely not be attending, I want to let them know in as timely a manner as possible.  But...wonderfully...I have finally come to this great excitement, this liberation from worrying about the options I felt I am tossing and (almost pure) enthusiasm for the multitude of directions I could go in from here. (More on this later.)

But life, though seeming to revolve around graduate school responses, does not.  And I have filled January, February, and March with an art class that I am so glad to have taken, new avenues in prayer and meditation, a re-inspired joy of teaching/coaching...and dreaming about SEA.

1) The painting class: This was something I told myself I wanted to do while I was still in Moldova.  I wanted to improve. I wanted to learn.  I didn't want my painting to be inhibited by ignorance, but to be propelled by whatever my inner spirit desires.  So I went to an open house at the Los Angeles Academy of Figurative Art, won a small discount in their drawing, and (since I believe that serendipity is inspired) signed up. Although, truth be told, I probably would have signed up anyway.  I was so nervous at first; I had never painted with oils and "drawing with a paintbrush" had only just begun to be even semi-successful. But there is so much concentration involved! I know this seems like a given, but it wore me out.  I kept telling myself that I was taking this class to improve, to learn from it, to get feedback from a (very helpful) teacher...and that I could paint whatever I wanted when I was done.  

And it has been so worth it.  I don't feel totally skilled yet, but I feel optimistic.  I am more aware and excited and eager and feel I have at least crossed a painting threshold.

2) Meditation: I had anteed up my prayer and meditation since summer 2006, and did some more reading while in Peace Corps.  Prayer and patience and trust in the harmony of life's events became a silent constant while gone.  But I knew that I wanted to seek it out.  I wanted, like with painting, to learn from someone.  When I got back, I looked up retreats and classes and all of them seemed either too far or too expensive or too "something," but then I found a group on Meetup.com (which I had signed up for in college to find French-speaking groups I never went to).  The group is all the way in Torrance (anandasouthbay.org) but it has been so perfect and beautiful.  I knew that I was going into more constant meditation practices because I wanted to learn how to listen better, to silence all excess and just LISTEN.  But, again like painting, it takes concentration.  And effort.  And these two parallels completely exhausted me in the beginning.  

Come mid-February, I was so emotionally spent, but I knew I was going in the right direction.  I spent so much time in Moldova in inner-reflection, thinking about who I want to be, and these few months home have been the opportunity to LIVE IT OUT.  And it feels GREAT!!  Now, at least.

3) Coaching Gymnastics:  Being around kindergarteners again was humbling.  It reminded me that I really don't know what I'm doing.  And coming in as the substitute at low-income schools (where the kids don't necessarily want to be there and certainly don't want to compete) was a big challenge.  The driving around stressed me out.  The rush hour traffic stressed me out.  The kindergarteners stressed me out.  And so this became the outlet for the attitude I've gained over these past few years.  Because even through the stress, there are beautiful moments when you just feel...light...and totally at ease and you remember why you LOVE working with kids and why you applied to the schools you applied to and why you want to study what you want to study.  And everything makes sense.  And then by the beginning of March you feel on top of the world and you are rocking the classes again and you are smiling and see the good in each child and are so grateful to have the chance to do this again.

Each of these things affected the others and the culminating result is a Samantha that feels so much more patient and free.  But now I can see the wheels turning again and I can't stop thinking about SEA.  In a little over two months I will be heading to Massachusetts to learn about navigation and oceanography, to prep for a 4-week trip from Honolulu to San Francisco.  I will know where I am going to school.  I will be done with coaching and driving in rush hour.  And I will be standing on a ship looking out into a literally limitless ocean.  And I couldn't think of anything better.

Homecoming and Humble Pie

I told myself that I would continue to write when I got back to America, even if I didn’t update the blog online. Of course I haven’t and I have totally felt the absence.

It has been stressful.

Exciting, but stressful.

My world could go in a million (very good) directions right now and that’s wonderful. These are the moments we pray for: opportunity-filled and limitless.

But what I actually pray for: easy decision-making. When it comes down to it, I don’t ask for opportunity. I have opportunity; I just need help taking advantage of it.

But these great moments of change and life are shadowed by other stresses, and so I haven’t really had the chance to sit and ponder my Moldovan experience. In fact, I find myself trying to avoid thinking about it – for reasons I’m still unsure of.

Perhaps I find it too difficult to focus on what “needs” to be done here when simultaneously thinking of what has already been done there?

I also find myself so overwhelmed with hypothetical situations, constantly reorganizing the matrix of possibilities in my mind. (It is this ever-changing matrix that normally helps keep me calm…it gives me faith that there are a million “right” ways for a situation to work out because everything else can shift accordingly. But here, where I was once again responsible to people...)

I had prepared myself mentally for a lot of the realities I knew I would face in America, and when I first returned I handled them almost effortlessly. But then I went away for Thanksgiving, had an excellent time, and returned to LA only to be met by the memories I had run away from in the first place. Smack. They materialized in the freeway exits that reminded me of events, the restaurants we passed, markets, street names, everything.

And so December and January found me wanting to leave again. But seeing as I have been in California for over two months and haven’t seen all of my dearest friends, I’m not ready yet…but I do need to acknowledge that inkling. When it comes time for graduate school, I will be ready to try out a new city, to explore it on my own terms, to get a feel for its culture, restaurants, people, and for what it has to offer me, too.

Perhaps that’s why I have been so preoccupied thinking about the hypothetical balance between all my varied choices: because I didn’t want to think about anything else.

Arriving in America had me finishing applications, patient as a nun, lighthearted and excited over simple things like green lawns, brick houses, and customer service.

Returning, then, to California, reminded me to slow down a little, that I didn’t need to finish all applications by my birthday, and that a little humility would do me some good (a theme that would reoccur shortly).

So we come to the stress: I was so worried about making the “right” decision in a matter that was not yet mine to direct. And as I’ve said multiple times now: I pray for easy decision-making, for help in listening. And so God gave me a big ol’ helping of humble pie, eliminating one of the “options” by telling me one school was saying “no” to me so I didn’t have to worry about saying “no” to it.

I chuckled, and I felt relief. Great relief. The truth is that not all of my emotion is caused by graduate school issues, but I had merely chosen to focus on those. And this reality (that the cards had not been laid for me yet, that it wasn’t time for me to worry about making a decision, and that it would be clear to me if I stopped worrying so much) helped to minimize my worry about the other issues too.

…What I believe most of all is that there will come a time when I am able to make a choice and if I can listen…truly listen…I will know which way I am supposed to go.

And so now I am learning how to trust that not only in theory, but at the present moment, rather than just in retrospect when I can say “ah, now I see how it has all pieced together.” If, when looking back, you see that there is a harmony, and, when looking forward, we trust that the harmony will prevail, then the only option is to trust each decision, each situation, and each moment right here.

So where does all of this take me? Well right now I am waiting to hear back from 8 more graduate schools. The circular conversation you may have followed brought me right back where I started with a more established interest in programs that range in name from Child Development, Human Development, Educational Psychology, and Interdisciplinary Studies in Development.

I have to constant remind myself that the mannerisms, attitudes, and habits I see around me are the same that were here in LA before I left. America, on the whole, has not changed much since I left. Even though I think I had the same frustrations before leaving (like when people honk at you while you are letting a pedestrian cross) I have to remind myself that I have indeed changed and that as universally correct as I may think I am, the world hasn't necessarily changed with me. (And, then of course, there is always the possibility that I am wrong...but we're not talking about that right now...)

Purpose and Pumpkin Pie

When I first got to the village, I slept in the front room. That meant that we had to heat two fires (and sometimes twice a day each). So then I moved into the middle room. It was warmer, protected from cold by rooms on each side. And we only had to light one fire for both bedrooms and the kitchen combined. It was nice. But I didn’t make it my own until just this last winter when I finally put up pictures and letters from friends and family…and some Christmas garlands that I kept up on the walls until now.

Two weeks ago, though, host mama asked me if I could move my stuff back into the front room so they could do some repairs in the middle room before the cold comes. Ok. That meant that I needed to pack up all my clothes, get rid of even more, and move everything into the other room. So last week I was half in one room and half in the other and this week I am completely in the front room, all my belongings sprawled in various piles waiting for me to decide what to take and what to leave.

At the time, I didn’t want to move my stuff because it meant I would be living out of a suitcase for the next two weeks. But now I’m glad, because it forced me to get rid of a lot of stuff in advance, and now, when the last few days are up, I have significantly less to deal with. Getting rid of tons of items brought a much needed feeling of liberation. And it’s a nice cycle…back in the room where I started…

I also had a lot of documents to finish up: the last quarterly report of all activities, outcomes, and projects: site history report documenting all village organizations, relationships, possibilities for another volunteer, safety issues, transportation, etc.; the official “description of service” condensing my two years into 1.5 pages; the collecting, pasting, and reporting of all Kindergarten Project receipts, budget forms, and writing of the final report. Then I still needed to actually FINISH the project: the seminar; the demonstrations; ordering the furniture; buying the learning tools/books/games/musical instruments (when we don’t have our own transportation); convincing villagers why the money was already allocated to something specific and why it could not be used for A, B, or C.

I was stressed. I was excited to be busy, but it gave me very little time to relax, reflect, and adjust. I finished earlier than expected, baked pumpkin-pie-from-scratch number 2 for the Peace Corps Staff Appreciation, and exhaled. And now I have this week to visit with people, get pictures developed, and pack. Honestly, I don’t think I would have wanted more down time because this transition is uncomfortable enough. I’m neither truly here nor completely gone, my things are everywhere and I can’t yet think about home because then I won’t get anything done.

But as I was riding into Chisinau Friday, looking at the extraordinarily beautiful autumn we’ve had up north, I felt so utterly content. I was thinking about the seminar at the kindergarten and I was so energized! To update you all: Sunday the 4th Natalia came up and we held the training with kindergarten teachers. I was unbelievably nervous; I didn’t want to be the young American who has been here for two years and is now coming to tell them what they are doing wrong. But we planned well. Natalia did a great job of including them in the activities, of asking them for their input, telling them we understand that they are experienced but that they get tired sometimes and that we only want to offer them a wider selection of tools for their choosing.

They were smiling, nodding, participating, and throwing out ideas. This is the second time that I have planned a seminar directly related to child development, fourth time I have led the workshop, and second time that I thought the topic would be too basic. Again, I was surprised. Ideas that I took for granted even BEFORE undergrad had still gone unarticulated here: the purpose of hands-on learning; the ways movement-based activities are good for kindergarteners; the simplicity of using “baby talk” and repeating words to demonstrate actions (“open, close”) to young children; the benefit of limits and discipline that teaches instead of just punishing.

And then afterwards, the women were so excited to demonstrate some of these new activities, to be an example for other kindergartens and volunteers who might like to lead similar trainings. But my favorite comment was that “you taught us things that we already knew but didn’t realize we already knew.” (Of course there were those who chose not too participate, but as long as at least one teacher changes at least one technique and benefits at least one child, then we have made a difference.)

And then on Monday when we were discussing what learning materials to buy, the teachers were trying to explain a toy to me, and it was taking me a while. The word they were using was “pyramid” so I kept picturing a building block shaped like a pyramid. They were trying, instead, to describe the standing pole on which we stack rings of different sizes and colors, largest first and smallest on top. I was secretly stunned, realizing that we were planning consciously to provide these students with an item that I still imagined as a kindergarten given. Shame on me.

And it really is incredible how far the dollar goes. Each classroom now has books, balls, toys, building blocks, math cubes, and plastic “exotic fruit” that I also took for granted (bananas and oranges). There are now puzzles, a plastic piano, guitar, drawing easel, plastic vegetables, storybooks, math books, and a working accordion for their music time (the one “artistic” activity they had done consistently until the accordion decided to die).

And the tables and chairs, which were sure to come only after I’ve left, should get delivered within the next two days!

Wednesday two other volunteers came up to film the demonstrations and the children (and teachers!) were excited. The teachers were talking about what they learned, what the kids liked, why the guide was beneficial, and how they wished we had collaborated earlier.

I met the woman who is in charge of preschool education in the Soroca region (AMAZING WOMAN!), gave her a copy of the guide, and took her contact information. She was the best advocate of making sure the items were out and readily available in each classroom instead of tucked away in the downstairs cabinet. She wants to make copies for each kindergarten in Soroca and run an experience exchange with all the other teachers in the region! Oh how I wish I could have been able to see it happen…but perhaps this is the time to let it go, no? When someone else has offered to take it up on their own…

Well anyway…so I was on the way to Chisinau Friday, thinking about all of these happenings, the unexpected success I felt after this project…and I was overwhelmed with the strongest memory of coaching gymnastics. And the strongest desire to do things correctly, to work to the maximum, to give my all, and the joy of being creative in my work.

I have been writing graduate school application essays about how much coaching and PC have together contributed to my desire to study child development…but it was coming away from this project that brought such a joyful contentment. I have changed my mind a million times since coming here, modified my interests, thought about law school, med school, art school, and about working abroad for a few more years. But here, in this moment, overjoyed by memories of coaching and always trying to be one step ahead of the class in the most creative way possible….and already having started the application process in this same area, already sure that it was necessary to come full circle in this field…

Sorry, I’m not expressing myself clearly because I haven’t quite sorted it all out. But the point is that I felt content in the way things turned out, the way they are going, and the interconnected relationship between the two.

I almost studied something else, I almost went to a different school, I could have gone somewhere besides Moldova, I could have done a million things differently, and I don’t know exactly WHY things happened the way they did. But for better or worse, it all seems to fit together, the pieces became clear, and I could see the whole puzzle…and I KNEW without a shred of doubt that every moment that led to that moment staring out the window has been necessary and perfect and that each step taken has already set me up for the place I will eventually need to be…wherever that is.

And now I can’t tell you how even more excited I am for graduate school, for the ten months before then, for finding out where I will end up, for the topics I will be studying…for all of it!

A week ago I was testy, cranky at all villagers who didn’t respond to my “hello,” and now I am at peace. Calm. Appreciative.

Friday we had the staff appreciation dessert/ice cream bar. Saturday we had a Peer Support 5k and the Wine Festival. Sunday before leaving Chisinau, I sent in my first application! I said goodbye to some volunteers who I won’t see next weekend (and maybe ever again). Then I got on the bus for my last trip back to the village. The further out of the city, the more orange and red the trees and the more grateful I became that I’ve lived somewhere with four distinct seasons…and that I’ve gotten to see them cycle twice. And the orange leaves reminded me first of Halloween and then of Thanksgiving…and then I smiled, because I will be home for Thanksgiving this year. And now I’ve made a pumpkin pie from scratch. Twice.

Emotions, Parasites, and Grape Picking

I started this a week ago but my emotions have been so up and down that the mood of the writing kept shifting. It’s going to keep changing so I might as well write. Memories from the last month:

1) September first brought a sudden shift in weather. It was autumn. Dry wind and cold nights. And tons of caterpillars. Where do they all come from? They are short and black with long fuzzy white hairs and they are EVERYWHERE. They climb up the front door and the curtains and I have to shake out my outside slippers before putting them on.

2) I was on my way back from the capital when the bus stopped in Soroca (our regional center). I got off to buy something and when I got on the bus a drunk man was drinking from my water bottle. Wordlessly, he asked if he could have some (though he already had) and I told him to take the whole thing. The bus driver yelled at him and he got off.

3) Giardia: I still have it, and truthfully, I think it’s the same bit I’ve had since the beginning. I try not to be angry. In fact, throughout my service I took it as a given of the circumstances and the fact that it is everywhere and you can’t really protect yourself completely. But seeing as there has never been a point when it’s been out of my system completely, I began to get really angry with the people who served me the gallon of well water and didn’t bother telling me that they had refilled the store-bought bottle without my knowing. “Is the water good?” he asked me. At the time I just thought it was an odd question but at the moment it makes me fume. It isn’t the TASTE of well water that makes us distill it, it’s the bacteria. Distilled water tastes even worse than well water. But honestly, who knows? I COULD have gotten this giardia from somewhere else and it COULD be different bacteria than the first time. Unfortunately, I’ll never know. But now I have giardia that is resistant to medication and I can’t run more than thirty minutes without needing a bathroom break. So I was finally given the more complicated 5-day medication with stronger side effects and at the end of the week we’ll see if it’s finally been kicked.

4) The Close of Service conference: this really hit home. I had found out that I would have funding for my project by the end of the week so as I went to the conference, I knew I would be able to leave on time, thus listening more objectively to the speakers. The conversation became real; I was able to picture the bizarreness of returning home. We talked about how to explain our service, job searching, financial planning, the paperwork required before leaving, as well as what to expect upon returning. And the weeks that have followed have been emotional. The optimism I encouraged throughout my experience has thinned as I have accepted what I no longer have time for. The adrenaline that sustained me has thinned as I see the finish line. And that’s ok. I am still very grateful for the project that will occupy my time during the final month, but I am now able to accept that I will have an emotional catharsis when I return. I know it’s part of the process; I had just denied that I would have one.

5) The Close of Service physical: I was really grateful that she took the time to discuss all of my worries, symptoms, and improvements. But once she told me that someone had brought a concern to her attention, I could no longer focus. The ultimate point was that I should “be careful who I talk to,” and perhaps I took this the wrong way, but it took me a few days to get over. This isn’t the first time someone has warned me that not all people are as goodhearted as they appear but this time caught me especially off guard because she couldn’t tell me to what she was referring. I’ll never know and it could’ve been brought up in an infinite number of ways – possible even out of genuine concern. But I’ve come a long way because of the people I’ve grown with here in Moldova and would rather be disappointed than expect ill intentions.

6) The kindergarten project is on the way and tomorrow we will be purchasing the furniture! Then next weekend we will hold the first hands-on training with the teachers. It really is quite exciting, especially as it will fill my last month here. Thank you so much to everyone who contributed to this project and whose hopes, support, and prayers made it possible. Our time in Moldova teaches us more thoroughly how to cover all bases and make sure your interests are met, but whatever we did along the way, the mayor and kindergarten director have lived up to their promises as well and I am even more grateful for the experience I’ve had.

7) I finally helped pick grapes! Granted, I was glad I didn’t need to pick grapes the whole day – and I couldn’t imagine how intimidating it could be to have an entire vineyard to pick – but the three hours I spent were quite peaceful and enjoyable. And, tasting each kind, I was able to see the great uniqueness of each grape. Some are juicier, some have more pulp or thicker skins, and some are sweeter or have a more saturated color. But I have great respect for those whose hands turn blue picking grapes all day long!

8) My host mom asked me randomly how I was planning on getting all of my things to Chisinau. It wasn’t the question that caught me off guard, but her assumption that I would only leave a day early so I can catch my early-morning flight. As it is, I don’t actually know what my last day in the village will be but one day early is the latest I would leave…and that made me sad, both realizing that I would then be leaving in less than one month and that I didn’t know how to explain that I would probably spend my last nights in Chisinau. I’ve been able to spend this weekend in the village – visiting an old monastery with some students who participated in the summer village cleanup – but I know that this last month will be filled with a lot of trips to the city. I just have to accept that. Each week I’ve been bringing in a bag of items to give away: clothes, books, etc. I’ve been trying to fit as many activities into as few trips as possible. But it seems like just yesterday I was saying “seven weeks left” and now it feels as if I’ll be leaving tomorrow. And I almost don’t want to be this busy at the end because it will make the last month go by that much faster.

Fountains and Funding

And I forgot to mention two things:

1) We now have a pump and a hose! In June they showed me how they put a pump in the well and how we can pump water into buckets at the push of a button. Literally. But just as I was trying to figure out where the hose went (I was looking at the well as if I had never seen it before) host pops showed me that he hosed it near the front of the house. Now just in front of the house, I can stick the hose in a bucket, plug in the cord and watch as the bucket fills itself! I don't even have to walk to the well!

2) The kindergarten project is coming along slowly but surely but time is definitely cutting short. If you would like more information on the project you can visit http://kindergartenproject.webs.com

There is also a link to the donation site as well. If you know of organizations that would be interested, please don't hesitate to pass along the link. God willing, we'd like all funding to be in by then end of the month as we can't use a dime until the entire amount is in.

Is that really the finish line already?

August 1, 2009

I suppose I’ve mentioned every time that writing today’s date has given me a shock. But it wasn’t just writing it this time. It was seeing it as I woke up. Perhaps it’s premature, but this month is the start of what I feel will be the “dreading what can’t be gotten done” period. I’ve mentally crossed the line between thinking there’s still time and accepting that there’s only time for smaller things now, or for finishing things that have already been started. And perhaps that’s not true. I’m not a pessimist, after all. I feel, instead that this is just part of the cycle. I’m entering the last phase. August and September might very well be my last full months in the village. October is a possibility but I’d rather plan under a tighter deadline than a longer one. Wow. Even writing that is weird. Last full months.

Seeing as I haven’t written a detailed update in months now, this could go on for ages. I’ll keep it (as) short (as possible) with some of my strongest memories from June and July.

1) Michael and Kat visiting in June: My main thought is gratitude but my second thought is: this makes it real now. When I left last May for Michael’s graduation, I felt as if I had left too soon. I had woken up from a long dream and wondered if Moldova even existed. But now, they have come and experienced this with me and it connects both parts of my life. These will not be isolated experiences, detached from those who have known me my whole life. Thank you, as well, to all of you who read my updates, who have followed this experience with me. I want, more than ever, for you all to be a part of this with me.

2) I had a great conversation with the Agricultural guy at the mayor’s office. He hinted me into his office and shut the door behind him. I was mildly concerned. But then he leaned behind his desk and pulled out a plastic bottle filled with dark wine. “Oh no,” I said. “I can’t. I got sick. I can’t.” “Just a little,” he insisted. “Today’s a holiday.” But what ensued was by far the best conversation we’ve ever had. He’s normally a joker, purposefully trying to push my buttons by asking me inappropriate, stereotyping questions about Americans and telling me I don’t understand him. But here, he was genuinely open, curious about what I would take away from my experience and asking me if I was going to write a book. He wanted to know if other Americans got along as well with their community, with their mayor’s office. We talked about the gamble of Peace Corps service and he told me I should title my book “21” after the card game.

But then he asked me about whether it was tiring to be in another culture for so long. That was the perfect word: tiring. Yes. I had been thinking that just recently. Even when it becomes easier, even when you speak the language well enough, you still have to be aware 24/7 of the things you are doing and saying, of how you look and present yourself, of who you offend. Even when you aren’t aware of it, your mind is working to adjust to the language around you, to the norms that still aren’t normal, and to how to translate the response you haven’t thought of yet.

But then he told me that when his daughter was in America, she got the impression that Americans “fight for themselves.” And when he said it in Romanian, I took slight offense, thinking that he implied we were selfish. But when I write it in English – word for word – it could come across instead that we just don’t like handouts, we don’t expect someone to solve our problems for us. In Moldova, everything is communal. Everything. And sometimes that is wonderful. If you bring a water bottle with you, it will be shared. But I understand now how rude it can seem when I have a water bottle that’s just for me and I’m going to bring it to the table that you have prepared without offering it to you. So what do we do? We hide the water bottle.

3) Training with the new group: Last week I went to lead a one-hour training for the new group on “finding and defining work in the community.” I sat in for the motivation training that came before mine. And I just kept thinking: if only you knew how important this really is. And so by the time my session came, I was so filled with emotion and adrenaline that my tired (and sick) body was re-energized. No one tells us what to expect. Instead they tell us not to expect anything. But I cannot tell you how emotional it was for me to sit in that room and listen to the trainees’ optimism. One of the saddest things for me has been seeing some of the most warm, lighthearted people turn into cold, pessimistic volunteers. And I didn’t realize how heartbreaking it has been until I was once again around a group of volunteers who don’t yet have a reason to drop their optimism. So I told them honestly about the ways I messed up and what I learned from it. I told them what I did wrong so that they don’t make the same mistakes. And then I told them how I learned, what I did differently, and what I would definitely do again. I told them WHY these topics are so important and WHY to take it to heart. Without anything to relate to, these “motivation” trainings just seemed like common sense to me back then. But being there two years later, looking in hindsight, they are so essential. I wanted to make sure that the reality of that session and then my own session was carried to them, was explained and elaborated upon. The training needs to be real. It needs to give honest preparation for the ups and the downs, not just telling us that there will be downs but what they might look like.

4) Saying Goodbye: The first goodbye was awkward. I hadn’t seen enough of her in the last year. I would’ve liked to have seen her more. It seemed the last few times were just moments in passing. And as she walked me out, I knew I wouldn’t see her before she left. And I was quiet, sad, and reflective. But the second one was surprising to me. It was a surprise because I didn’t expect to cry. I left the night early but I would’ve had to leave at some point. And when it actually came to it, I started crying. Really crying. I’ve missed people that have left already. I’ve genuinely missed people that left a year ago. But there’s something different about one of your peers, one of your friends, someone who has been here almost the entirety of your service leaving you when you are not quite done. And it’s totally possible that I will see her again, but the question is now obvious: when?

There are still things to get done, some of which are exciting and stressful and I know that this is part of the game: learning only at the end what is possible. But I desperately want to learn from those who have led good examples, to copy some of their successes during this last period. I would like to go visit another volunteer tomorrow as he opens a center he’s funded, but my own camp starts on Monday and that is exciting in itself. It’s going to be a scramble at the end, but I want to soak it all in, get in as much as possible, and to not let this last-leg fatigue keep me down. I remember another volunteer mentioning a few months ago: every time I ride the bus in now, I try to stay awake to look out the window because I know I’ll be leaving in a few months. I think that my time has come for that as well.

Strawberries, Stress, and Seminars

June 3, 2009

May was an amazing month, a month that felt as “productive” as I can risk saying. I know I’ve said this before, but I can’t believe so much time has passed since last writing. And I really understand why we’re here for two years….why productivity partly depends onto the time we put in.

The fact is that most of my activities are not “with” a Moldovan. I take that back, they are “with” Moldovans but they were not necessarily involved in every step…or even the initiators of the project. But I’m getting more done. In some ways this is contradictory because our goal is supposed to be helping people help themselves, but we are still working together, the activities are still involving the local youth, and the outcomes will still benefit all. Yes, if you can involve someone in the planning process, this is ideal, but just because you can’t do it one way doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it at all.

May…let me see…what made it go by so quickly?

I visited another village (without other Americans) and hung out with some other Moldovan ladies my own age who (shock!) aren’t married and (even still!) live in a village. I turned in three project proposals – some of which will undoubtedly flop – and now I am waiting for the funding period…the slow process that still involves me looking for sources. What else did I do in May? I finished up my English class (which started with 20 and ended with 3), finished collecting clothes for our clothing drive, and starting taking Russian lessons!

I’ve gotten the hang of only staying in Chisinau for one night at a time and that has really helped my mood. In the beginning, staying only one night was stressful because I was nervous about travel and that didn’t let me enjoy the night…but now…I’ve had enough of Chisinau and staying too much makes me antsy. But this is what learning is: realizing how I react in bizarre and unique situations and then adjusting my plans accordingly. And regardless, the weather has me so much more lighthearted that needing to stay out of the village longer doesn’t stress me out. I can much better enjoy the changes in events.

But I really am feeling quite comfortable with Moldova, with my service, with the possibilities of all of the things I can do before I leave – even if they aren’t “tangible.”

Ah, yes, this reminds me…Also in May I organized a seminar for some of the older girls in the village. Actually, I invited all students in grades 9-12. An NGO from Chisinau came to lead the seminar and I really enjoyed seeing the Moldovan perspective on interactive learning and seeing the girls reactions to activities that I take for granted (e.g. role play). But of course the only participants were the same girls that always participate. I suppose this makes sense; they are less nervous about coming, know what to expect, and are not as uncomfortable around the American. But I am trying to accept that I wasn’t necessarily receptive to opening up myself, my time, and my events, to all people because I was (ridiculously) worried about not being able to handle it…so as a result, I had sometimes excluded necessary parts of the young population. That’s why, this time, I went to every class and made sure each of the kids of that age group was notified. They still didn’t come. What is it, then? A competitive relationship with the active girls? Uninteresting topics? Bad timing? No interest in me? Bad translation?

So I came up with a competition that hopefully solves all of this. (And, importantly, forces me to plan a long series of events throughout summer.) The competition is for the “most active students” and will include everything from a poster contest, village clean up, and leadership seminars. All you have to do is participate enough to win 5 points and you can come with us on a trip (to either the waterfalls or the monastery). But if you include other people, you get more points. If you are more active at the events, more points. Picked up more trash, more points. Students with the most points will be recognized by the mayor (and the Peace Corps director) for their service to the community and will be acclaimed as the “most active students.” My main obstacle will be announcing every activity during summer, since I can no longer go to the school and talk from class to class. I tried collected the info of each class rep – who then promised to transmit all messages to classmates – but this hasn’t been as fruitful as I’d hoped. We’ll see. Even if it doesn’t turn out how I’d like, it still ensures a good handful of activities for the summer.

I also went to my second Moldovan wedding! The mayor’s son married the kindergarten director’s daughter and it was an incredibly beautiful event. By taking place in town, and at a restaurant, it differed slightly from the village wedding I went to last month. But the idea was the same, I recognized the traditions, and even though the food was more elaborate, I still saw the pattern in the plating. And I danced! (But not after ripping up my feet. Yes, this was unfortunate. When I got to Soroca, I called for directions and was told to go “in the valley.” I have never understood what this is supposed to mean and how on earth I am supposed to know which direction is “in the valley” when I am standing on a hill. But of course “in the valley” was the direction I didn’t go in. So my little 30 minute pre-wedding jaunt brought enough blisters to last me the next three weeks – without exaggeration – and bringing a new understanding of what it means to take care of yourself – and wounds – without running water. Thank God for antiseptic! The process of putting warm water and your feet in a bowl really isn’t that complicated. But at this point, I realize more that infection is not worth laziness.)

While this last month seems fast and productive, it was also stressful. This is crunch time…and not because I have to come up with ideas, but because I actually have expectations for the existing ideas!

Cultural note: washing laundry by hand does not get easier. As opposed to the ‘boiling water to drink” issue (which has become habitual), the labor-and-time-intensive laundry process just makes me more lazy. Perhaps this is partly because I know I’m leaving in 6 months and will arrive somewhere with a washing machine…but I’m just doing this to get through.

But we have strawberries! They are ripe and sweet and in abundance. I plan on eating loads of them everyday. Last year I kept forgetting. Or even if I remembered, I was bizarrely too lazy to pick fresh strawberries (really!) and so now that this is my last summer here I am trying to take advantage.

And I started French lessons again today! My Romanian tutor is the French teacher at the school. I figured my Romanian is down enough that I can mix in a language I should know already. But even if we are moving more quickly than someone who never learned French, it’s still frustratingly basic. “I haven’t done first year French in a while,” she said to me. But oh how fun it was to go into her garden and practice our French vocabulary while we picked her strawberries too!

I know that June will go by even more quickly because of all the events that spawn from May’s and because of visitors! It’s a good time for me to reanalyze my priorities and to start better appreciating what I have here.