This Is A Test

Up to this point in my Peace Corps training I have had two language proficiency exams - while I did fine on both, exceeding expectation, none were important. If I failed, there were no consequences. And yet, before both, I was amazingly nervous.

Now, on August 14, I have my final exam, really the only important one I’ll have - it’s the one which, if I do terrible on, will have some consequences. It will consist of five parts: 1) introducing myself and American and Moldovan host families, 2) navigating a store, 3) getting directions around town, 4) talking about my likes and dislikes, and 5) asking questions of the examiner. That’s it - should take about twenty minutes in the morning, with our results known soon thereafter.

For the Peace Corps, there are ten levels at which we can possibly test at, with Russian speakers expected to reach a level of four (Intermediate Low) and Romanian speakers, a level of five (Intermediate High). Occasionally, someone will get lucky and happen to catch fire the day of the exam - a Russian trainee a year ago scored a seven on exam, which was (and is) almost totally unheard of - I heard that at her second test a few months later, she actually did worse. (A side note - after six months of service we have a second test, and most people test at a seven, which is all that is really necessary to get around in society - most daily conversations are done at this level. In fact, the difference between the top three levels consist mainly of knowing abstract terms. At the end of their service volunteers have one final test that is scored on a universal scale which is recognized internationally so that we will be able to use it on a resume and everyone will know what it means. This test consists of a lot of questions involving politics to see how well the interviewee can discuss the abstract).

What do these numbers mean? Intermediate Low means that the speaker is "able to handle successfully a limited number of uncomplicated communicative tasks by creating with the language in straightforward social situation. Conversation is restricted to some of the concrete exchanges and predictable topics necessary for survival in the target culture." Meanwhile, Intermediate High speakers "are able to handle successfully a variety of uncomplicated communicative tasks in straightforward social situations. Conversation is generally limited to those predictable and concrete exchanges necessary for survival in the target culture." As you can see, the difference appears to be highly subtle - however, those who score tests say that the two groups are easy to distinguish to the trained ear.

It goes without saying that, as far as a week out, I was (and am still) frightfully nervous. The problem is this: when I took tests in school, I always basically knew what the test would be about, I knew what would be covered. And if I didn’t know what was on the test I would be able to improvise a little to save face. On this test, however, there will come a time when I will have no idea what to do or say. The reason for this is simple - the testers are trained to push our limits with the language, to see just how much we can produce if need be, to see just how of high a level we can achieve. In order to see how comfortable we are, they are expected to push and push, and it a guarantee that I (and every trainee) will eventually have our language skills broken. And it is a moment that I dread. If there is one plus, it is that we all know what will be on the test, leaving us plenty of time to study and, if we have to, simply memorize wrote phrases and statements to questions that we know are coming.

Another reason for my nervousness is simply my competitiveness - if I was perfectly happy with getting a four, I would be fine, as I can to that in my sleep. However, I’ll really be bothered if one of the other Russian speakers do better than me - thus, my quest to not get defeated is hugely important to me (my competitive nature is a disease from which I think I’ll never be cured).

And there is one final irony behind my nervousness - if I totally bomb and don’t manage at least a four (which I can’t imagine happening), then I simply need to get a tutor once I get to my permanent village and work a lot. Otherwise . . . . no consequences of too serious notice.

Notes
- Last week we watched a video on traditions in Moldova, and the one that had some of the oddest parts (as opposed to the American way of celebrating the tradition) was the wedding. Two things stood out:1) In Moldovan weddings, at one point the bride and groom sit in a chair and all the gifts that they received are opened and then placed on top of them - this includes blankets and what not. And this goes on for up to an hour. Apparently, during the summer, it can be torturously hot to sit there - in fact, after this part of the wedding the bride and groom usually change clothes because their first outfit have become soaked through with sweat. 2) At another point in the wedding a microphone is passed around and every guest is expected to make a cash gift to the new couple - the catch is, a box comes around with the microphone and guests have to say how much they are giving, show the money, then drop into the box. Needless to say, this can create some uncomfortable moments. From what I was told, for foreigners it’s acceptable to simply but the money into an envelope and discrete drop it into the box and then pass on speaking into the microphone.

I should learn a lot more about this in the coming months, as my future host-brother at sight will likely be married soon.

- You know what ‘tolstoy’ means in Russian? Fat. Although the name of the author is simply that - a name. It in no way is meant to describe his appearance.

- It’s amazing what I’ve become used to in only a few short months here. At first, it was an oddity to see a goat tied up along the side of the road, sidewalk, or anywhere (really, they are tied up in just about any open public spot). Now, however, instead of thinking "wow, that’s a goat," I think,"hey, that goat needs to be moved - all the grass around it is too low," or "that knot doesn’t look to secure." (Baby goats, by the way, are amazingly cute. Adult goats are amazingly scary looking). And a few weeks ago a girl in our group told us how she finally convinced her host family to stop feeding her so much when she stepped on the scale in their house to show them how much she weighs - the thing that everyone found most shocking about the story was that they had actually had a scale.

Changes like this have happened after only two months - I can only imagine how much my perceptions of things will change over the next two years.