27 Luni

Some would say that to become a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) takes sacrifice; one gives up many typical amenities associated with life in the United States, two years of income, not to mention lost opportunities with state-side family and friends.  However, matching this with unencumbered generosity are the numerous host families that voluntarily bring PCVs into their homes for the three-month duration of Pre-Service Training (PST) and sometimes, the full two-year tour.

Introduced to my host family (Gazda) just today (Saturday), I was instantly welcomed into the family.  The English speaking young brother met me at the Hotel Valahia after lunch this afternoon.  All 39 of the Peace Corps Trainees  were ushered into the main conference room of the hotel and directed to sit at one of many long rows of tables in front of a two-sided name tent.  On one side was the name of the trainee, first name followed by last, and on the other side was the name of a Gazda family member, surname first, given name second.  As the Gazda representatives were brought into the room a still and nervous silence gave way to a roaring flurry of brutally butchered versions of the Romanian language.  Many students having practiced all morning to deliver their choice words: “Buna ziua, im pare bine domnle. Ma cheama … , ce mai faceti?, ” most vocal attempts came out completely unintelligible in any language.  Having been briefed, the Gazda knew what to expect, and in my case, piped up with nearly perfect English.  My Gazda young brother happens to be home for the weekend from a university in Brosov where he studies Engineering, and was nominated (as the best English speaker in the immediate family) to pick me up.  As it turns out, I am their third Peace Corps Trainee to be welcomed into their home.

In a whirlwind of an afternoon, I was introduced to several members of the family (one of which is an adorable 18 month old girl), given the block style apartment tour, tested out the newly installed standard issue PC water purification system and kindly escorted around town in search of the best possible deal on a wireless router so they could share their internet connection.  The best price, in the end, turned out to be online, COD….no kidding.  As a side note, I’m told that Romania has the second fastest Internet speeds in Europe, faster than the US.  My Gasda brother and I had a high-level compare and contrast discussion between Romanian and U.S. governmental politics, turns out that some frustrations are global, with U.S. politics pale in comparison to the complexity of the Romanian system.  My Gazda mother, couldn’t possibly be more attentive.  She thoroughly and routinely has ensured that I’m comfortable and that I have everything I need.  For instance, she phoned her last Peace Corps Trainee who is currently serving in another part of the country, so that he could introduce himself.  Chris unnecessarily reassured me that this was a great family and that he continues to keep in regular communication with them.  Icing on the cake is that the apartment is within five minutes walking distance of the PST school.  Perhaps to put the level of this families generosity into perspective; they have temporarily converted their living room into a private bedroom to accommodate Peace Corps home stay requirements.  The living room, complete with pull out couch, dinning room table, temporary stand-up dresser and multiple bookshelves (already full of Romanian novels), also has a private patio, loaded with plants.  This room easily represents a large part of their total space and is possibly larger than any other single bedroom in the apartment (never mind it houses their television).  Finally, when asked about laundry facilities, Doina’s response: “I do the laundry, and you study Romanian!”

Dinner Saturday night was a traditional Romanian dish, Moussaka, which is seasoned ground meat rolled into cabbage leaves.  On the side was Mamaglia, a traditional polenta like dish, and two different kinds of cheese.  One of which can apparently not be bought in the stores, as individual sheep farmers make it in the mountains, and its unpasteurized.  I’m technically not allowed to eat it (due to PC regulations), though I didn’t know the details until after the first delicious bite.  My Gazda sister-in-law made a phenomenal chocolate cake with walnuts on top, and has only asked in return that I make pancakes (she was made aware of my culinary school background), though what I gather from further explanation indicates she may really be looking for desert style crepes.

The whole idea of learning language through immersion is serious business and potentially very effective.  Once my Gazda brother goes back to school Monday I will be the only English speaker in the house, which means I will either have to sink or swim.  Today my conversations responses to Doina, largely consist of “Da, Nu Inteleg, Va Rog, and Multumesc.”  Though, based on my exposure to several PCVs, the training team and the amount I have already learned in the past couple days, this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.   Peace Corps certainly seems to have every possible base covered and is doing everything they can to ensure the success of each Peace Corps Trainee.

The first real day of training begins on Monday, during which time I will have Internet (until the router arrives at the apt) and should be able to post this entry.  In the meantime “noapte buna”