27 Luni

The first day of PST wasn’t at all unlike my first day in elementary school where I was undoubtedly escorted by my mother and with a packed lunch.  Since I had no idea where the school was my Gazda mother actually had to walk me there, and since I don’t have my own kitchen, she also kindly packed me a brown bag lunch.  Biggest difference: in the former event my mom added the finesse of a Spiderman Lunch Box.

Though we had our first formal Romanian language lesson today, we still managed to spend a lot of time on administrative tasks that I thought were largely behind us.  The final medical information was passed along, we discussed the detailed schedule for the next ten weeks (our official call of service will be on July 4^th, talk about ironic) and details about how to handle certain political situations in a diplomatic manner.  The language lesson was nothing short of incredible.  This first week we have been broken up into four groups of approximately ten students each (later the groups will be smaller) and we had two instructors tag teaming the group (where in the future we’ll have one at a time).  Peace Corps uses the “Communicative” approach to teaching language where the Professor(s) do not use any of the native language (in this case English).  This, I’m told, is the same method we trainees will use as volunteers in the field.  The instructors introduce a word or concept by showing a picture or acting it out, while speaking the associated words.  Once the concept is clear, the students are asked to repeat after the instructor to ensure proper pronunciation.  For more complex situations like dialog, the students role-play with the instructor as a group and then alone as pairs, then in front of the class and then with members of other classes in the hallway.  I won’t pretend that I had it all down right there on the spot, but you are certainly provided with enough to practice the lesson on your own.

The school is an old communist era (for lack of a better description) block style building.  It’s made mostly of concrete and cinder blocks, with few by the way of amenities.  The bathrooms are coed though they do have full doors for some measure of privacy.  Toilet seats are few and far between and toilet paper is of the “bring your” own variety.  Though Peace Corps does furnish our floor with this luxury.  The toilets flush by pulling what amounts to a rusted coat hanger that is tied to a water reservoir above head.  The classrooms are small, and the desks are clearly designed to be age specific, as, even with my moderate height, I don’t quite fit.  This is an active school for students in the area, however an entire floor has been dedicated specifically to the Peace Corps.   We’ve been outfitted with several small classrooms, a student lounge complete with refrigerator and couch, wireless internet and a couple of offices for the staff.  There is a map of Targoviste on the wall and a bulletin board for providing us with regular updates.  The school isn’t much by American standards, but it will certainly more than suit our needs.

Shortly after returning this afternoon at about 5:30 and starting to complete my homework, my Gazda mother came in asking if I was hungry.  Since the sandwich she made of smoked cheese, ham and obviously bread for lunch was plenty for me I wasn’t quite ready for dinner.  I naively communicated that I was a little (putin) hungry but wouldn’t need/want dinner for sometime.  Moments later she brought in a bowl of chicken soup (ciorba) with a whole chicken wing in it, and a loaf of bread.  Figuring this was dinner I saw no harm in digging in early.  No more than ten minutes later she unexpectedly brought in an actual dinner; two plates full of sautéed ham, sausages, mashed potatoes and more of the cabbage rolls from Saturday night.  This is more food than I would eat in two full days let alone one sitting.  In an effort not to offend, I cleaned my plate(s).  Thinking that was the end of it I sat down to write out this blog post.  Guess what happened next, that’s right, dessert.  Gogoasa (donuts), three to be precise.  In discussing the differences between the American circular donut with the customary hole in the middle versus this tube shaped version, she mentioned they often come with chocolate.  Next thing I know I not only have three donuts in my hand but a jar of Chocremo, a Nutella like product, too.  Think that’s it?  Nope, as I worked through my third donut she brought three more, as I type they are sitting on the coffee table next to the Chocremo staring at me.  I’ll say one thing about my time in Romania I certainly won’t go hungry.

This day was probably one of the fastest that I’ve ever experienced.  I have a feeling this ten weeks is going to fly by incredibly fast.  Should have internet at home with in the next few days, and perhaps a cell phone depending on if the “modification” to my iPhone worked.

P.S.  Typically the Romanian words I place above actually have accents, so they are not actually pronounced the way you may think.  Feel free to look them up on Google Translator for the actual spelling.