Last week I headed back to my roots, at least the ones that were developed in Moldova, and returned to the village and family where I trained last summer. In the afternoon, we did a short seminar for the new trainees, but really it became just an excuse to go back to the village. I much appreciated the time I was able to take with one of our old language teachers, over tea, to converse no longer as child-to-adult, but as colleagues. She is among the most patient women I have ever met—proof is in her return to Peace Corps for a second summer to teach us clueless Americans.
I thought that going back to visit my old host family might be a little awkward, since so much time has passed and I know I wasn’t around for a recent wedding. But arriving to open arms, kisses, and smiles…followed by the dragging of my own two feet at the night’s end, when I needed to leave, is testament that we really did appreciate each other’s company last summer. As the house wine flowed, so too did some of the best conversations I ever had with the family. Amazing what a few more months of study can unlock!
Since they are knee-deep in remodeling their home right now, I couldn't stop commenting on all the changes. For a woman with so many grandchildren, the installation of bunk-beds was a fabulous idea! They've also added new paint, a dining table longer than a village road, walls, doors, energy efficient windows, and gas heat. To cut to the chase, one of the daughters recently returned from her work in Canada.
My host mother and sisters were also adamant that I had changed too. Since I've heard this even here at my regular site, I think it's time to just come out and admit it. Moldova is teaching me to be a girly girl. I'm okay with it, I think. Maybe some day I'll even decide to have some of those...yikes...children.
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