Home Sweet Home
Last weekend I met, for the first time, my future boss, colleague, and family. On Friday all the Peace Corps trainees went to Chisinau for a conference in which we met our school directors and partner-teachers - sadly, we met them by 9:00 and it was all downhill from there (more in a sec). My partner-teacher is - and has been - the only English teacher at the school for almost twenty years, teaching about forty lessons a week. Thankfully, with me, her work load is now cut in half. And the director is great too, very excited to have a young American volunteer teach at his school. In Moldova there are two types of schools, a School and a Lyceum, the latter of which is usually perceived as being for the ‘smarter’ students. Most Schools every few years make an application to become a Lyceum: my school tried a few years ago and was denied, but my director thinks that with me working there, we should have a much better chance of getting approved.
But aside from the excitement of everyone suddenly knowing much more about our futures, the conference itself was a big disappointment, largely because almost nothing was translated for the directors - 30-40% of those present had almost no idea what was going on, and naturally, after an hour or so of hearing nothing but English, their attention and energy levels dropped. Badly. All the American volunteers sensed it too and we even told those directing activities that they should translate more but alas, it wasn’t done. It was also disappointing because 1) Many people, like my director, really wanted to learn some new things but were simply not allowed the chance, and 2) It was clear that a lot of work went into developing the information that we were presented but, like I said, it was wasted on 30% of the audience. My main suggestion for next year: cut information and translate (they didn’t want to this year because of time restrictions) - most of us felt that it’s better for 100% of the audience to understand 60% of the information than for 60% of the people to understand 100% of the information.
But alas, after the conference ended I went with my party to my village of Hirjauca. The drive is absolutely beautiful - I know now why there is not one but rather four monasteries in the area, as the landscape is picturesque. I spent the first evening with my first housing option, an older woman Raisa (like Gorbachev’s wife) who has a son and husband in Moscow, a son in "Leningrad" (certifying the Russian-ness of the area), and a daughter in the next village. She was a very sweet lady herself but her friend was over for dinner and kept asking me question after question in a racing pace, then she couldn’t believe that I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t understand English at her pace. But alas, after a few minutes she finally said "You speak Russian badly" - trust me, I understood her just fine then. She would have been surprised to learn that I know enough Russian to chew her out for being rude and to tell her what I though; but alas, I wanted to be a good guest. But that soured me on the whole experience, as unfair as that may be to the sweetheart of a lady who hosted me.
The next morning I went to the school for a visit - I’m really impressed with the facility there. Nice and clean, with a gym and actually a computer lab with pretty good internet access (where sent some e-mails and really impressed them with my ability to type fast - people would just watch my fingers move). But on my walk to the school with my partner teacher she at one point directed my attention to a house and told me that I had my second housing option there and that the father had cancer but that "it was in the last stages and everything would be resolved" by August. Great, I though, assuming that she meant he would get better. But afer the school visit we went to the house and I quickly realized - within a minute - that the father would not be better but instead will die by August, likely within weeks. He is only 45, and because of prostate cancer he will have gone from diagnosis to death within six months. An absolutely tragic situation. The mother in the family is a teacher in the school, the daughter is in the 12th grade, and the son is twenty-four and had a wedding planned for late summer until his father’s sickness happened. Now, things are postponed indefinitely (but the wedding will happen).
Actually, they have two little houses, one of which has a kitchen, bathroom (sans toilet - maybe it’s a washroom), and living room, and the other of which has another kitchen and three rooms the family usually occupies. However, since his sickness the father is sleeping in one room of the second house and the rest of the family in the living room of the first house. I, however, shared a house with the dying father. While I only saw him once, on my initial tour (that was the moment I realized what his fate is), I sat for a day and slept in a room next to his, which was at times brutal. He is in constant pain, and I could hear him moaning for hours, often yelling out to his mother or wife for help. It was emotionally draining for me - I can’t think of how tough it is for his family, who has to help him, go through with anything. And yet this happened, I really liked the family itself, even the fiancé of the son.
The next day I went to a third family, an older couple who have a son in Moscow. I knew right away, when my partner and I (she led me from house to house) entered the gate and were greeted by a beast that conjured images of the Hound of the Baskervilles, that the house was probably not for me. And the father had an interesting trait - while he was very nice, he always looked and smelled like he’d been drinking vodka. I even spotted him walking around with a bottle. But he never acted drunk. It’s a gift, I guess. Both parents were nice but I was quick to dismiss it from my decision making.
So I left the village Monday morning with a decision to make. The journey home to my training village was fine - long, but fine. I went from Hirjauca to the regional center Calarash on one bus, from the regional center to the outskirts of Chisinau on another, from the outskirts to the center on a trolleybus, from the center to the outskirts of the village by another bus, and the final five kilometers to my home on foot. And I did it all alone, with only the usual troubles that accompany any first-time journey in any place. It was a greet feeling to have been successful, a great confidence booster.
Notes
- I had my first language assessment last Wednesday. Facilitating was the ‘questioner’ and the ‘observer’ - the job of the former is to talk, the job of the latter is to write opinions of our language skills (the questioners were Peace Corps staff who teach Romanian to others in my group - the observers were hired independently). The first part was to sit with and answer questions about ourselves and our families in America (names, jobs, ages) as well as the same questions about the host families we have during training. They also asked me about where I will work (Hirjauca) and what I know about it. Finally, we had to ask the ‘questioner’ questions about themselves and their families. The second part of the exam was role playing, to enter a market and buy some things for a birthday party, negotiate a cheaper price, then go into a shop and but some more objects (it was luck of the draw - we either had to do this with food or clothes, and because we learned clothes and colors literally the day before the test, I was glad to not draw that one. One Russian speaker did - she said it was torture). Although the results aren’t too important in the eyes of the Peace Corps, I treated the exam highly, even listening to my old ‘pre-game’ music from my Hamline University football days to get pumped. This exam was just for the Peace Corps to see how we are doing so far and for them to know any weaknesses we have.
So naturally, if you know me it will come as no surprise that I walked out of the exam thinking it was total and complete disaster. The problems came from word order - in Russian, it’s largely not important because grammar clues tell the listener what is happening (with case endings, gender and number agreements, and so on). So if you get used to hearing things said in a certain word order you have no trouble, but the second that word order is changed, it really throws off comprehension. While the words are the same, it just takes more time to put things together. And in an exam, a lot of time thinking quietly is the last thing you want. The whole ordeal was just horrible, the worst thing that could have happened and the perfect blow to my mind that was beginning to think that it was finally starting to grasp this language. ‘Devastation’ is the only adjective I could use to properly describe my feelings - in fact, all Russian trainees were crushed.
And so naturally, our test results came back glowing in their compliments, heaping praise upon our abilities; my language instructor was very pleased with the results of our test, totally thrilled that we’ve progressed in the way we have - she was an ‘observer’ of the Romanian speakers and she was especially excited because while usually Romanian learners are ahead of the Russian speakers at this point (based on the difficulty/ease of the languages), at this point now we are at the same level. Even the PC staff who tested us walked out impressed with our progress. And of course, their words did little to boost my ego. To top it off, we all had two hours of language class in the afternoon after the test, which proved to be a very difficult lesson based on a linguistic concept of ‘aspect’ that we don’t have in English but which is very strong in Slavic languages. At the end of the lesson the teacher asked us (in Russian) what we wanted after class - when I told her I wanted to drink vodka (in Russian), she just laughed and said she understood.
And for the record, there was no vodka consumed that night.
- You may have heard of the bombing that happened in Moldova last Friday in Tiraspol, capital of the dangerous breakaway region of Transnestria. Rest assured that me - and every single other Peace Corps volunteer - are and will continue to be 100% safe. In fact, we are under strict orders to stay out of Transnestria. If we enter that area at all, we need to inform Peace Corps and receive their permission, and the chances of us being given that permission is between slim and none. It’s not an option, especially now in times of unrest. Also, from what I’ve read and heard, the chances of the bombing being anything more than an isolated incident are minimal. It was a fluke that just happened to happen in the nation that I live in.
- Money is not at all a problem for volunteers - the Peace Corps provides for anything. In fact, I’ve heard of volunteers actually saving as much as 100 dollars a month during their service (out of about a 200 dollar monthly total ‘salary,’ from which comes the money for our host families). At first I thought it wasn’t true, that it wouldn’t really be possible to save that much. Then I went to my village. There, I think I would be actually hard-pressed to spend more than a few dollars a month. The only places to spend money are the two stores that sell food and the disco, a place I’m not likely to frequent as a teacher. Instead, I’ll travel - there is one girl in a village like mine and in two years she’s traveled to Turkey twice and Italy once, flying everywhere and staying at nice places, all with money she’s saved in her village. So clearly, there’s a silver lining.
- Here I’ve experienced something I’ve never seen outside of central Europe - when converting costs from Moldovan currency, I hear people more and more telling the price in Euros rather than dollars. In Russia it’s still largely dollars, but still . . . . I don’t know if the reason can be attributed simply to geography and the fact that Moldova really wants to joint the EU or to the diminishing value of the dollar in the world today, both literally and figuratively. Honestly, it’s likely the more of the former, but I think the latter can’t be dismissed either.
- At my host family stays in Hirjauca I did nothing but read for hours ever day, the main reason being because there wasn’t much else to do but also because I really just wanted to rest after twelve consecutive days of sleeping no latter than 7:30. I slept nineteen hours in two nights and read two books in three days - In Cold Blood and Interview With The Vampire. The first was everything it’s supposed to be (brilliant, riveting) and so was the second (a fun little story).
- If you want to visit me here but have never used a pit toilet, prepare yourself. It’s just a really big pit and over it is a hole there is a hole in the floor about eight ten inches in diameter. And it’s inside a structure. Part of me doesn’t like it at all, but then I realize that the vast majority of the world’s people use facilities like this (if they’re lucky). So I can live with it for a few years. I just hope a visitor can live with it for a few days . . .
- One thing that made me crazy on my visit to the village - at every home, people apologized for their homes, for the way they lived. Which I can’t stand. Even my partner teacher told me basically apologized for how she lives, and I didn’t come within 200 yards of her house. I wanted to ask each person if they would be embarrassed without me there - if the answer is ‘no’, then they need not be embarrassed because of my presence. Also, it would come as a surprise to them that many people I know would absolutely love to live in the way they do, surrounded by the peace and quite of a valley surrounded by forests. Believe me, they need not be self-conscious because of my presence.
- Thieves struck the host family of a fellow Russian-speaking trainee, my friend Aaron. Their family has a lot of poultry, and during the day it’s a common practice to just let various poultry roam around the neighborhood (we have primarily turkeys and ducks in my part of town). Well, his family had four geese stolen one day last week - his host father went to gather them and bring them in for the night and they were missing.
- I’ll do this only once a year or so, as little as possible - recommend a book. But if you are at all interested in American history, the English language, the history of the English language in America, or a combination of any of these, read Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in America, by Bill Bryson. It’s well written, funny, accessible, and totally fascinating. I will be shocked if anyone reads this book and doesn’t thoroughly enjoy it, and I’ll be equally shocked if someone reads the introduction and isn’t drawn to read the rest.
- There is a reason why I haven’t posted pictures yet - I don’t have the chance with our internet connection in the home, as it simply takes too much time. But when I go to the Peace Corps office next time I will take advantage of their DSL and post some images of my nation. I can, however, lead you to a better map of where I am. Here is a map - northwest of Chisinau is a city Calarash - I'm about 10 miles northwest of that.
- On the housing options - things came down to either the old lady or the family with the dying father. And in the end I’m going with (drumroll please . . . . . . ) the family. It’s a gamble. I know what I’ll get with the old lady. But the family . . . first, I really liked all of them. Also, now they are in a time of great transition, and I’m taking a chance that my presence will only enhance their difficult time. I know it’s a risk, but I’m going with instinct on this one. And as sweet as the old lady is, I’m used to having a big family in America and it would be tough to live alone with just her. Actually, I plan to copy her number and call her once I get to site, as I’d love to see her and keep her company. I just don’t want to live there.
Also, in a bit of irony I’ve learned that two years ago there was another Russian speaking trainee - also named Andy - who moved into a family in which the father had also just died of cancer. And in that case, the volunteer firmly believes that his presence was a great asset to his family in their grieving process, as it helped them take their mind off the tragedy. I hope to have a similar effect on my future hosts.
But aside from the excitement of everyone suddenly knowing much more about our futures, the conference itself was a big disappointment, largely because almost nothing was translated for the directors - 30-40% of those present had almost no idea what was going on, and naturally, after an hour or so of hearing nothing but English, their attention and energy levels dropped. Badly. All the American volunteers sensed it too and we even told those directing activities that they should translate more but alas, it wasn’t done. It was also disappointing because 1) Many people, like my director, really wanted to learn some new things but were simply not allowed the chance, and 2) It was clear that a lot of work went into developing the information that we were presented but, like I said, it was wasted on 30% of the audience. My main suggestion for next year: cut information and translate (they didn’t want to this year because of time restrictions) - most of us felt that it’s better for 100% of the audience to understand 60% of the information than for 60% of the people to understand 100% of the information.
But alas, after the conference ended I went with my party to my village of Hirjauca. The drive is absolutely beautiful - I know now why there is not one but rather four monasteries in the area, as the landscape is picturesque. I spent the first evening with my first housing option, an older woman Raisa (like Gorbachev’s wife) who has a son and husband in Moscow, a son in "Leningrad" (certifying the Russian-ness of the area), and a daughter in the next village. She was a very sweet lady herself but her friend was over for dinner and kept asking me question after question in a racing pace, then she couldn’t believe that I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t understand English at her pace. But alas, after a few minutes she finally said "You speak Russian badly" - trust me, I understood her just fine then. She would have been surprised to learn that I know enough Russian to chew her out for being rude and to tell her what I though; but alas, I wanted to be a good guest. But that soured me on the whole experience, as unfair as that may be to the sweetheart of a lady who hosted me.
The next morning I went to the school for a visit - I’m really impressed with the facility there. Nice and clean, with a gym and actually a computer lab with pretty good internet access (where sent some e-mails and really impressed them with my ability to type fast - people would just watch my fingers move). But on my walk to the school with my partner teacher she at one point directed my attention to a house and told me that I had my second housing option there and that the father had cancer but that "it was in the last stages and everything would be resolved" by August. Great, I though, assuming that she meant he would get better. But afer the school visit we went to the house and I quickly realized - within a minute - that the father would not be better but instead will die by August, likely within weeks. He is only 45, and because of prostate cancer he will have gone from diagnosis to death within six months. An absolutely tragic situation. The mother in the family is a teacher in the school, the daughter is in the 12th grade, and the son is twenty-four and had a wedding planned for late summer until his father’s sickness happened. Now, things are postponed indefinitely (but the wedding will happen).
Actually, they have two little houses, one of which has a kitchen, bathroom (sans toilet - maybe it’s a washroom), and living room, and the other of which has another kitchen and three rooms the family usually occupies. However, since his sickness the father is sleeping in one room of the second house and the rest of the family in the living room of the first house. I, however, shared a house with the dying father. While I only saw him once, on my initial tour (that was the moment I realized what his fate is), I sat for a day and slept in a room next to his, which was at times brutal. He is in constant pain, and I could hear him moaning for hours, often yelling out to his mother or wife for help. It was emotionally draining for me - I can’t think of how tough it is for his family, who has to help him, go through with anything. And yet this happened, I really liked the family itself, even the fiancé of the son.
The next day I went to a third family, an older couple who have a son in Moscow. I knew right away, when my partner and I (she led me from house to house) entered the gate and were greeted by a beast that conjured images of the Hound of the Baskervilles, that the house was probably not for me. And the father had an interesting trait - while he was very nice, he always looked and smelled like he’d been drinking vodka. I even spotted him walking around with a bottle. But he never acted drunk. It’s a gift, I guess. Both parents were nice but I was quick to dismiss it from my decision making.
So I left the village Monday morning with a decision to make. The journey home to my training village was fine - long, but fine. I went from Hirjauca to the regional center Calarash on one bus, from the regional center to the outskirts of Chisinau on another, from the outskirts to the center on a trolleybus, from the center to the outskirts of the village by another bus, and the final five kilometers to my home on foot. And I did it all alone, with only the usual troubles that accompany any first-time journey in any place. It was a greet feeling to have been successful, a great confidence booster.
Notes
- I had my first language assessment last Wednesday. Facilitating was the ‘questioner’ and the ‘observer’ - the job of the former is to talk, the job of the latter is to write opinions of our language skills (the questioners were Peace Corps staff who teach Romanian to others in my group - the observers were hired independently). The first part was to sit with and answer questions about ourselves and our families in America (names, jobs, ages) as well as the same questions about the host families we have during training. They also asked me about where I will work (Hirjauca) and what I know about it. Finally, we had to ask the ‘questioner’ questions about themselves and their families. The second part of the exam was role playing, to enter a market and buy some things for a birthday party, negotiate a cheaper price, then go into a shop and but some more objects (it was luck of the draw - we either had to do this with food or clothes, and because we learned clothes and colors literally the day before the test, I was glad to not draw that one. One Russian speaker did - she said it was torture). Although the results aren’t too important in the eyes of the Peace Corps, I treated the exam highly, even listening to my old ‘pre-game’ music from my Hamline University football days to get pumped. This exam was just for the Peace Corps to see how we are doing so far and for them to know any weaknesses we have.
So naturally, if you know me it will come as no surprise that I walked out of the exam thinking it was total and complete disaster. The problems came from word order - in Russian, it’s largely not important because grammar clues tell the listener what is happening (with case endings, gender and number agreements, and so on). So if you get used to hearing things said in a certain word order you have no trouble, but the second that word order is changed, it really throws off comprehension. While the words are the same, it just takes more time to put things together. And in an exam, a lot of time thinking quietly is the last thing you want. The whole ordeal was just horrible, the worst thing that could have happened and the perfect blow to my mind that was beginning to think that it was finally starting to grasp this language. ‘Devastation’ is the only adjective I could use to properly describe my feelings - in fact, all Russian trainees were crushed.
And so naturally, our test results came back glowing in their compliments, heaping praise upon our abilities; my language instructor was very pleased with the results of our test, totally thrilled that we’ve progressed in the way we have - she was an ‘observer’ of the Romanian speakers and she was especially excited because while usually Romanian learners are ahead of the Russian speakers at this point (based on the difficulty/ease of the languages), at this point now we are at the same level. Even the PC staff who tested us walked out impressed with our progress. And of course, their words did little to boost my ego. To top it off, we all had two hours of language class in the afternoon after the test, which proved to be a very difficult lesson based on a linguistic concept of ‘aspect’ that we don’t have in English but which is very strong in Slavic languages. At the end of the lesson the teacher asked us (in Russian) what we wanted after class - when I told her I wanted to drink vodka (in Russian), she just laughed and said she understood.
And for the record, there was no vodka consumed that night.
- You may have heard of the bombing that happened in Moldova last Friday in Tiraspol, capital of the dangerous breakaway region of Transnestria. Rest assured that me - and every single other Peace Corps volunteer - are and will continue to be 100% safe. In fact, we are under strict orders to stay out of Transnestria. If we enter that area at all, we need to inform Peace Corps and receive their permission, and the chances of us being given that permission is between slim and none. It’s not an option, especially now in times of unrest. Also, from what I’ve read and heard, the chances of the bombing being anything more than an isolated incident are minimal. It was a fluke that just happened to happen in the nation that I live in.
- Money is not at all a problem for volunteers - the Peace Corps provides for anything. In fact, I’ve heard of volunteers actually saving as much as 100 dollars a month during their service (out of about a 200 dollar monthly total ‘salary,’ from which comes the money for our host families). At first I thought it wasn’t true, that it wouldn’t really be possible to save that much. Then I went to my village. There, I think I would be actually hard-pressed to spend more than a few dollars a month. The only places to spend money are the two stores that sell food and the disco, a place I’m not likely to frequent as a teacher. Instead, I’ll travel - there is one girl in a village like mine and in two years she’s traveled to Turkey twice and Italy once, flying everywhere and staying at nice places, all with money she’s saved in her village. So clearly, there’s a silver lining.
- Here I’ve experienced something I’ve never seen outside of central Europe - when converting costs from Moldovan currency, I hear people more and more telling the price in Euros rather than dollars. In Russia it’s still largely dollars, but still . . . . I don’t know if the reason can be attributed simply to geography and the fact that Moldova really wants to joint the EU or to the diminishing value of the dollar in the world today, both literally and figuratively. Honestly, it’s likely the more of the former, but I think the latter can’t be dismissed either.
- At my host family stays in Hirjauca I did nothing but read for hours ever day, the main reason being because there wasn’t much else to do but also because I really just wanted to rest after twelve consecutive days of sleeping no latter than 7:30. I slept nineteen hours in two nights and read two books in three days - In Cold Blood and Interview With The Vampire. The first was everything it’s supposed to be (brilliant, riveting) and so was the second (a fun little story).
- If you want to visit me here but have never used a pit toilet, prepare yourself. It’s just a really big pit and over it is a hole there is a hole in the floor about eight ten inches in diameter. And it’s inside a structure. Part of me doesn’t like it at all, but then I realize that the vast majority of the world’s people use facilities like this (if they’re lucky). So I can live with it for a few years. I just hope a visitor can live with it for a few days . . .
- One thing that made me crazy on my visit to the village - at every home, people apologized for their homes, for the way they lived. Which I can’t stand. Even my partner teacher told me basically apologized for how she lives, and I didn’t come within 200 yards of her house. I wanted to ask each person if they would be embarrassed without me there - if the answer is ‘no’, then they need not be embarrassed because of my presence. Also, it would come as a surprise to them that many people I know would absolutely love to live in the way they do, surrounded by the peace and quite of a valley surrounded by forests. Believe me, they need not be self-conscious because of my presence.
- Thieves struck the host family of a fellow Russian-speaking trainee, my friend Aaron. Their family has a lot of poultry, and during the day it’s a common practice to just let various poultry roam around the neighborhood (we have primarily turkeys and ducks in my part of town). Well, his family had four geese stolen one day last week - his host father went to gather them and bring them in for the night and they were missing.
- I’ll do this only once a year or so, as little as possible - recommend a book. But if you are at all interested in American history, the English language, the history of the English language in America, or a combination of any of these, read Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in America, by Bill Bryson. It’s well written, funny, accessible, and totally fascinating. I will be shocked if anyone reads this book and doesn’t thoroughly enjoy it, and I’ll be equally shocked if someone reads the introduction and isn’t drawn to read the rest.
- There is a reason why I haven’t posted pictures yet - I don’t have the chance with our internet connection in the home, as it simply takes too much time. But when I go to the Peace Corps office next time I will take advantage of their DSL and post some images of my nation. I can, however, lead you to a better map of where I am. Here is a map - northwest of Chisinau is a city Calarash - I'm about 10 miles northwest of that.
- On the housing options - things came down to either the old lady or the family with the dying father. And in the end I’m going with (drumroll please . . . . . . ) the family. It’s a gamble. I know what I’ll get with the old lady. But the family . . . first, I really liked all of them. Also, now they are in a time of great transition, and I’m taking a chance that my presence will only enhance their difficult time. I know it’s a risk, but I’m going with instinct on this one. And as sweet as the old lady is, I’m used to having a big family in America and it would be tough to live alone with just her. Actually, I plan to copy her number and call her once I get to site, as I’d love to see her and keep her company. I just don’t want to live there.
Also, in a bit of irony I’ve learned that two years ago there was another Russian speaking trainee - also named Andy - who moved into a family in which the father had also just died of cancer. And in that case, the volunteer firmly believes that his presence was a great asset to his family in their grieving process, as it helped them take their mind off the tragedy. I hope to have a similar effect on my future hosts.
posted by Andy Buchanan at 1:32 PM
4 Comments:
I talked with Nick this afternoon, I have "hired" him to tear down the gargae In the back yard. He is reading your blog and if you haven't heard it appears all is well with him & Molissa...
For once I get a book recommendation ! I will look for it 'cause from the title, at the very least, it sounds pretty interesting.
Did you get the first part of this "reply" ? One slip of the hand and the computer screen went dead !
Love,
Dad
I know you say you are safe, but last I checked, there were no bombs that we going off around here... I did hear of the bombing and was concerned for you…
Please be careful!
I was in Guatemala a few years back and had the same issue with people there (apologizing for the way the live)..
I felt that it was a backlash of the world perception of Americans and American society. It is amazing that we come from a very rich nation and see all the wonderful attributes of their land, and yet they still feel some inferiority in their way of life. Perhaps the basic attribute of humanity is the grass is always greener syndrome. I would be interested to hear how the people of your area feel about the US and where they get their information...
Thanks for the map!
Good luck with the family. It appears by your writing that they have kind have "written” the father off and resigned themselves to the situation. Do they appear to be grieving at all?
anyways, be safe..
BC
Andy,
( First part re-written )
Your teaching partnership has the definite potential of upgrading the English Department of the local school. An overnight doubling of the resources and with yourself an expert, maybe the director is on to something when he thinks the desgination as a Lyceum is not too far away. It has got to be a Greek word, one can imagine scholars lounging around the grounds in their robes critizing Aristotle.
The conference reminded me of one I went to in China where everyone spoke in Chinese and us Americans sat and listened politely... at first. Then someone said "If you are only going to talk in Chinese I am leaving." This tactic worked for about five minutes, then the discussion got passionate again and in order to make their points they had to revert to their native vocabulary.
I like the name of the village, Hirjuauca, it sounds quiet and picturesque. Your solo travel marks a milestone, soon you may confidently venture forth to who knows where ! So the Euro is creeping into the remoter parts of Europe, I hope this doesn't cause more hardships for the villagers, usually only traders benefit the most from a unified currentcy.
It is sad about the short life of the host father, and to hear someone suffering at night is hard on the nerves. But soon his pain will end and he will be in the Next World.
We didn't hear one word about the bombing, especially with the recent happenings in Lebanon there is hardly any news even about Iraq. With instant communications throughout the world and only so much time to report it all on the evening news it often gets down to what region received the most death and destruction.
Tommorrow - Operation Pick Up Paul commences !
Love,
Dad
Looks nice! Awesome content. Good job guys.
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