27 Luni

This is the calm before the storm, my final cushy weekend in Tărgoviște with my Gazda family before moving to my permanent Peace Corps site and kicking off a series of activities involving summer camps and site integration.  This is the final weekend of amazing home cooked meals, comfortable surroundings and familiar faces that I have come to know and love.  Since I will more than likely not have Internet access immediately upon arriving in Valea Călugărească this is the best opportunity to provide updates on recent events.  As you can imagine, a lot has taken place in the last week with our Language Proficiency Examinations (LPI), swear-in ceremony, and an overnight in Romania’s capital city of Bucharest.  The time is blurring by at an unbelievable pace, only ten weeks ago we landed in Romania, a strange new place, and now many of us are comfortably calling it home.

As a rite of passage, each member of Peace Corps Group 28 underwent a one-on-one interview with a Language Instructor to determine our proficiency level in Romanian.  This test identifies how much of the Romanian language we have acquired since arriving here and acts as a barometer for how successful each Volunteer is likely to be with site integration and accordingly, community project collaboration.  Each of us was assigned to a specific thirty-minute time slot, with a predetermined instructor, on either Monday or Tuesday of this past week.  I was given the final slot on Tuesday, a potential benefit to having a last name that starts with “W.”  While our Colleagues were testing the rest of us participated in continuing language instruction that largely focused on our general conversation skills.  The LPI itself is designed to simulate real conversations that Volunteers are likely to have on a regular basis.  Over the past ten weeks, our language classes have strived to prepare us for this moment, covering topics through the “Communicative Approach to Language Instruction.”  Learning in much the same way a child would learn we were introduced to images and their corresponding Romanian words with very little English translation.  This methodology focuses on teaching its students the basics of day-to-day life skills; how to order menu items in a restaurant, how to utilize public transportation, how to communicate who you are and what you are doing here, etc.  Of course all in Romanian, some of the questions that I was given during my LPI were: “Tell me about yourself,” “Tell me about your hometown in the United States,” “Tell me a story about a time when you were in school,” and “What are you plans after Pre-Service Training.”

In addition to direct, open-ended questions we were each given a specific scenario to act out.  These ranged, based on a volunteer’s perceived skill level earlier in the interview and can include situations like “You have fallen ill with stomach pains.  Call the Doctor and tell him what has happened,” to more advanced topics like “The Mayor of your town has asked you to give an impromptu speech outlining your latest community initiative.”  I was asked to explain why I was late for an important meeting with a group of Community Leaders; I went with the plausible excuse that the bus broke down and then asked to reschedule.  As I understand it, you are given points for creativity and how existential responses are.  The wider a volunteer’s vocabulary and the more complex their communication is, the better.

In addition to broken down buses, I talked about one of my favorite books, “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor Frankl (Thanks again Ashley for the lend).  This book served as an inspiration early last year as I was contemplating Peace Corps service.  The book is a biography about a Doctor of neurology and psychiatry who was captured during World War II and taken away to a concentration camp and the methods that he used to survive.  In summary, the author indicates that the meaning of life is to have a life of meaning.  In other words if we have meaningful events, people etc to look forward to then those in themselves are our meaning for living.  As I recall, for Mr. Frankl, his ‘meaning’ was his love for his wife and it was the enduring hope of seeing her again that gave him the strength to push on.  Of course I was not able to communicate all of this in Romanian but I was able to explain the basic plot of the book and its inspiration on my decision to become a Volunteer.

The methods for scoring, though thoroughly outlined on paper ahead of time, seemed subjective and not truly representative in the end.  The final scores for some Volunteers did not seem emblematic of their true skill as demonstrated over ten weeks, but rather characterized one good or bad thirty-minute session.  Although I am quite happy with the outcome of my interview there are certainly others in my group who I feel have a stronger grasp on the language and I was admittedly surprised to hear of their lower than expected final grades.  In the end though, the final LPI score is largely meaningless.  In my mind the LPI itself is an important goal to work towards and has more meaning than the actual score.  When told that you are required to pass a test with at a certain level you will inevitable strive harder than if there was no bar to reach at all.  To this end, though stressful, I am glad that we had the opportunity to participate in the LPI experience.

Once our final LPI scores were confirmed and it was made clear that we all managed an acceptable score, it was time for the swearing-in ceremony.  Bright and early Thursday morning all volunteers, and two each of their Gazdas, made their way to the Peace Corps Hub in Tărgoviște to take a series of buses to the United States Ambassador’s residence in Bucharest.  Ninety minutes later we pulled up out front of a large and elegant building surrounded by tall walls and ample security.  Though photography was forbidden from the street outside of the compound we were allowed to take pictures of the pink house from the back garden, which alone was an amazing site for an inner-city dwelling.  In the backyard tents were setup to house the ceremony, waiters weaved in and out of the crowd with soft drinks and reporters with cameramen buzzed around Volunteers and Dignitaries as is often portrayed in the media.  The day was beautiful, with clear skies and though the sun was piercing, comfortable sanctuary could be found under the tents and in the shade of huge trees occupying the backyard.  One noteworthy lawn ornament was a two story mechanized, functional volcano that had been constructed to perform during the preceding week’s Fourth of July party.  Apparently each year’s Independence Day celebration represents a different State of the Union; with this last year meant to highlight Hawaii.

After an hour of mingling, interviews and taking in the grandeur of the Ambassador’s residence the day’s purpose was underway.   Following the Romanian and then U.S. National Anthems, our Director of Peace Corps Romania began with opening remarks, acknowledging those in the audience there to witness the event and she offered thoughtful words of advice for the soon to be Volunteers.  Next the U.S. Ambassador himself addressed the crowd, briefly discussing the recent decision for Peace Corps to withdrawal from Romania at the end of this group’s two-year tour.  With that we took the oath of office and we were sworn-in as Volunteers.  Following the Ambassador was the Romanian Secretary for Global Affairs, from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; a witty and charming gentleman with an understandable though awkwardly placed British accent.  Our Director then introduced each of us by name, to which we were to individually list our city of origin in the United States and the town or village in which we would serve for the next two years.  The highlight of the event, for me, came next when two of my colleagues, chosen by the group, gave separate speeches.  The first was a young gentleman from New York City that gifted the crowd with his poetic take on the pre-service training experience.  The second was a young woman, with roots as much in Colombia as in Chicago, who recounted a story from her youth that inspired her all those years ago to live a life of service to others.  As quickly as the ceremony began, it came to an end with additional emotional inspiration in our Director’s closing remarks.  Following the formalities and speeches of the ceremony was a reception where food and drink was served; the quintessential American food of hot dogs was served in typical ballpark fashion, lots of ketchup and mustard.  Though perhaps a thoughtful gesture, to give us a taste of home, I would have preferred the Romanian equivalent of sarmale.

Leaving the Ambassador’s residence, now as true Volunteers, we made our way across town for a tour of the Peace Corps Romania Headquarters.  The main office, which coordinates Peace Corps activities to help build the future of Romania, is fittingly a grand old house, built with classic French overtones.  The office consists of one main building and a few separate smaller buildings, each housing different divisions of the Peace Corps, including our Medical Officers.  There is also a Volunteer lounge that provides us with a central location to relax, check our email and catch up with other Volunteers while visiting Bucharest.  The streets surrounding the office in this part of town are very tight with sharp turns, a nightmare for any driver.  As parking is limited, many resort to leaving their cars on the sidewalk; towing is clearly not enforced here.  After a brief tour of the office, several of us made our way to a hostel a few blocks away, called Wonderland.  A quirky little place, it had enough room for the ten of us, though was short on showers, etc.  Fortunately, the hostel was close to the part of town known as Central Vechi or Old Center.  Here there are many restaurants, shops and bars to serve as distractions after a long ten weeks of training.  It was quickly decided that we would spend the remainder of our day and evening in this part of town.

Today I say my good byes to a host family of which I am very fond and tomorrow I head off to my new home for the next two years.  Fortunately, my site is not the twelve-hour journey that other volunteers experienced this weekend.  At most it will take one hour to make the trek from Tărgoviște to Ploiești, from there my means of transportation are unclear, though there are a plethora of MaxiTaxi’s and buses that I can navigate to complete the trip.  The real fun begins when I collect my key from the school Secretary and see what form my new residence is in.  As I understand it, the apartment has been undergoing renovation throughout the past couple of weeks, though some concern lingers in the back of my mind as to whether or not it will actually be complete.  Regardless, I will have a week to settle in before heading off to my first of three, weeklong summer camps, Simbrea, Sangeorz-Bai and Snagov.  Following those, at the end of summer, we are all called back together in the city of Sinaia for a TEFL conference.  Shortly thereafter our first semester of school will start and that is when the true test begins.

Wednesday, the final full official day of my site visit to Valea Călugărească maintained the quick pace and complete schedule as had the previous two days.  Breakfast again was served at 7:30 a.m. sharp along side several students and was followed by a ‘free period’ in which I was to plan activities for an afternoon session; more to come on that later.  Immediately after this planning session, I was taken to the school’s Experimental Orchard where a demonstration had been planned by one of the agriculture teachers and his students.  They mixed a solution that is designed to kill the weeds around the base of the trees.  The solution was dispensed via a large plastic backpack style sprayer that is manually pressurized by a long hand crank extending out from the bottom of the apparatus and around to the front of the operator’s waist.  During the demonstration, a young man in full riding gear road up to us on a bicycle.  As I understand it, he is some kind of Romanian national champion bicycler, and either a current or former student at the high school.  Regardless, it appeared to be a real treat for the other students, as there were several photo ops with him and the bicycle.

The next two sessions consisted of English lesson demonstrations focusing on video and listening activities.  For the video activities the instructor provided a handout to which the students could follow along, see new vocabulary and answer comprehension questions.  The videos themselves were clearly excerpts from older British comedies, but were cleverly selected for their simple, clear yet humorous dialog.  The secondary lesson of the comedy video was vocabulary for a hospital setting, as the star of the slapstick routine was hospitalized after a mock accident.  For the next session using listening techniques the vocabulary focus was on shopping; various stores and what they sell.  The British influence was obvious here as well with the more proper sounding terminology for some store names and products.  Among my favorites are trousers and trainers, for pants and tennis shoes; funny enough they actually call most tennis shoes addidaș, clearly influenced by the global sports shoe company.

After lunch in the Cantina, two of my counterparts and I went into the community again, to the center of Valea to visit the Secondary school.  A smaller facility than the high school, they had also clearly benefited from the reconstruction money that had previously been made available by the Romanian Government.  The classrooms and hallways were clean and freshly painted with lots of student work posted on the walls.  The students were well dressed in uniforms and quite attentive when a teacher walked into the room.  They have a computer lab, and even a club for amateur radio operators.  Within the last few years they had a Peace Corps Volunteer stationed there, but not for the full two year period, rather another shorter two to three month program.  The entire faculty was busily running around the school offices trying to close out the books, getting final grades and attendance marks in for the year; the same pressure was evident in my high school as well all week.

In an effort to more formally and personally introduce me to the student body, my counterparts organized a meet and greet for an hour in which the students and I could exchange dialog in an open discussion.  My counterparts elected not to participate hoping that this would relax the students enough that they could speak freely.  Taking into account the lower level of English some of the students spoke and their apprehension about speaking with a new faculty member, let alone American, the session went well.  I was able to communicate my own background, reasons for being there and some of my thoughts for the upcoming year.  Generally the students were quite receptive and as the hour went on opened up more and more.

The next session at 5 p.m. was actually hosted by yours truly.  After a small snafu with student attendance, my counterpart managed to round up ten that live in the school’s hostel for and afternoon of fun activities with the aim of encompassing some English lessons.  This was a great opportunity for me to evaluate the language skills of this small sample of students.  Assuming the group is representative of the whole, then their level of English runs the gambit from Beginner Low to Advanced, with the bulk of the class at the former.  Fortunately, one of my counterparts was there to assist with translation of the directions.  Since we were outside, there was no blackboard to use, but fortunately the students did have paper and pencils to write some ideas down.  The first game we played was one that I stole from another Peace Corps Volunteer who recently presented to our group and he likely stole it from somewhere else.  The game is called “move your feet” and the rules are simple.  All of the students form a circle around one teacher or student in the middle.  The person in the middle makes a statement about something he or she likes or is wearing.  Everyone in the circle who agrees with the statement or is wearing what the caller describes has to run across the circle to a now newly open spot.  The last person left without a spot becomes the new caller.  The purpose of the game is to work on vocabulary and once the directions are explained is quite simple for students of all skill levels to play.  As an example of a more complex game that we played, “hot air balloon” involves the formation of groups, each with at least one stronger English speaker for support.  Each group has to select their favorite actor, politician or person in general, dead or alive.  Then the following scenario is presented:  “The characters that you have selected are all afloat in a hot air balloon.  Suddenly they realize that the balloon is sinking and if they don’t lighten the load they will all perish.  The only solution is to democratically select one person to toss overboard.”  This game leads to some quite lively debate.  The first round included Enrique Eglacious, Michael Jackson, Barack Obama and Christopher Columbus; who do you think was cast out?  The benefit of this game is that it gets the students talking in a more lively and comfortable manner.  In the last round, Romania’s President Traian Basescu lost against a famous national poet, popular musician and a heavy weight wrestler: tough result for the politician.  To finish up the day the students and I went to dinner at the Cantina and then enjoyed a few relaxing games of pool at local establishment down the street from the school.

Thursday was my travel day back to Tărgoviște, and fortunately one of my counterparts had business to take care of in my destination city and hence I was able to hitch a ride.  Earlier in the day on Thursday, I was taken to a local “Country Club” that has a pool.  A few of the teachers indicated that it might be a good place for me to relax during my free time during the summer and to meet members of the community.  Though I don’t know how much downtime I will have as the summer activities are starting to pile up.  On the list are already two summer camps, a weeklong TEFL conference and a special visit from an American friend.  On top of getting settled into my housing, learning the way around and beginning the process of integration into the community, I will be quite busy.  Fortunately, I have been placed in a supportive community that I could not have picked better myself.

Tuesday of last week proved to be just as eventful as Monday with a full program in my new community.  After an interesting episode with a malfunctioning showerhead, I got cleaned up, put on my tie and met a few students from the day before in the Cantina shortly after daybreak.  Breakfast consisted of boiled coffee, mint tea (which is amazing), lots of bread, cheese and a bologna type processed meat.  The staff of the Cantina “rolled out the red carpet” as it were, by setting a special table in the dinning hall with an offset red tablecloth.  The students typically go up to the cafeteria window for their food, but the kitchen staff insisted on either bringing my plate to me themselves or having the students do so.  This may have something to do with the fact that, in effort to assist my classroom command over the student body, my counterpart made it known that I was a “very important” individual from the United States.  Let’s hope this clever disciplinary tactic holds strong in the classroom too.

Next, my counterparts gave me a tour inside the various school buildings.  As mentioned earlier, most are remodeled and quite clean, well organized and much like what I would expect from a school in the United States.  There are three computer labs with flat screen monitors, several classrooms have projectors, and one even has a SmartBoard.  There is a small gym with some basic equipment for the students and a ping-pong table.  Separate for the teachers and staff, there is a fitness center, of which I have been given a key, but not actually seen.  Though the Activities Director made sure that I knew it was off limits to students because the equipment was of quality and repair resources for it in Romania are scarce.  The main schoolhouse has a large auditorium with a stage, another projector and rows of seats for students and/or staff.  There are also several functioning classroom laboratories setup for the students with quality microscopes, various digital and analog equipment and other tools for the students to experiment and gain hands on instruction with.

While visiting Tuesday, I was invited to sit in on a couple laboratory lessons, the first was on “The clinical examination of pets” and the second on “The microbiological analysis of different types of yeast”; both sessions were quite interesting.   The former included a full-grown, live rabbit.  The program Diriginte (Headmaster) led the class with a mock case study in which the students had to identify an illness based on a list of certain symptoms.  Each student was wearing a white laboratory coat and they shared an electronic stethoscope.  After the case studies, the Diriginte demonstrated how to carefully exam the rabbit, looking over the fur coat, checking the ears and listening to various parts of it’s body with the stethoscope.  Then, one by one each student followed the instructor’s lead and examined the rabbit.  This brought on roars of laughter as some students were apprehensive about getting to close to the fluffy grey bunny, perhaps because they had seen Donnie Darko too many times.  One of my counterparts was in fact brave enough and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience.  I was quite content to watch from the sidelines, as I am rather fond of the taste of roasted rabbit and would just as soon maintain the divide between the living specimen and that on my dinner plate.  The second session on the topic of yeast, ties into the making of bread, beer, wine etc.  Again, each student was dressed in a white laboratory coat and one by one visited the electronic microscope at the front of the room.  Typically, the device is connected to a projector so the students can see the results in real-time, all together, but for one reason or another this functionality wasn’t working on this particular day.  The teacher prepared several slides at the various stages of yeast development and the students oohed and aahed as the yeast seem to grow before their eyes.  This was one experiment I wanted to get in on and as a bonus for participating I was given a small packet of dry yeast for bread making; see volunteerism does pay off.

In-between the two laboratory lessons, my lead counterpart held a session with her students on Romanian literature, “Epical models in time between the two World Wars”.  The session began with five students dressing up in period costumes and portraying various characters in the books they had reviewed earlier in the year.  Each of the volunteer actors came strutting into the room with lines of dialog memorized and perfectly executed acting.  After the class identified each character, the instructor moved on to project various clips from movies created from the corresponding Romanian classic.  This session was definitely one of my favorites as the students were fully engaged in the multifaceted lesson plan.

Before lunch, we went to visit the Primaria (Mayor’s Office) and had a thirty-minute conversation with the Mayor of Valea Călugărească.  An energetic and confident middle-aged gentleman, he was particularly attentive to our conversation as next year is an election year.  We introduced him to the Peace Corps’ three goals, discussed what the main duties of my assignment at the school were to include and reviewed our options for possible secondary community based activities to which I could contribute.  The Mayor seemed genuinely impressed with the American sense of adventure and altruism that Peace Corps embodies.  Through translation, he invited us to visit the village’s newly renovated library (one room of books with four new computers and a projector in the middle) and, at some future date, to have lunch at his residence.  Somewhere during the exchange, I believe he also invited me to mow his lawn, likely a joke that lost its humor when translated.  The setting for this meeting was the Mayor’s office, with a long conference table at the head of which, perpendicularly placed was his desk.  Throughout the session, he smoked from his tobacco pipe and regularly checked his Blackberry.  Overall, the meeting went well, the Mayor now knows that there is an American Volunteer in the village and that I am there to help in anyway that I can.

Following lunch in the school Cantina, we went to the Rovit Winery just on the outskirts of the village; where a former student of the Viticulture School, who has now been working with Rovit for many years, greeted us.  The gentleman walked the three of us through a tasting of four wines produced locally by the winery: in the order of Fetească Regală, Sauvignon Blanc, Fetească Neagra, and Cabernet Sauvignon.  All were quite good, with my favorites actually being the two local Romanian varietals of Fetească Regală and Fetească Neagra.  As an incentive for you to come and visit Valea, I will offer to show you a rather embarrassing video of myself sampling and critiquing the wines.  One of the main challenges that the Vineyard seems to face is the same problem that much of Romanian agriculture is facing.  As I understand it, directly or indirectly corresponding to Romania’s acceptance into the European Union, incentives have focused on imports from other European Countries thus stifling the agricultural prospective of farmers in Romania.  As explained to me, in many cases, it is cheaper for Romanians to purchase wine imported from Italy than it is for them to purchase domestic wines.  This is undoubtedly also impacted by the simple laws of supply and demand; if Italy is able to produce more and it their products are more highly demanded by the market in Romania then the prices would inevitably decrease.  If domestic Romanian wines are more expensive to produce due to government imposed agricultural taxes, the market can only generate so much demand at the higher prices.  To make things even more difficult the vines of Rovit are aging, and if new vines are not planted soon (which requires significant capital investment and five years of maturity) their production output could start to suffer.  In the meantime, while they work through these challenges, I am going to enjoy all the Rovit Fetească Regală I can get my hands on.

After a bit of free time and a short nap I was picked up and taken on a tour of Valea by two guides; a seventeen year old student from the high school and a twenty four year old graduate student that is related to one of the school’s staff.  They took me to an old house up in the hills that once served as a vacation home for Nicolae Ceausescu, the former Communist Dictator of Romanian, who was ousted in December 1998 during the revolution.  The home is quite large, tucked into the hillside and surrounded by trees.  Green vines with massive leaves shroud the exterior of the home, covering some amazing stonework.  We were supposed to be accompanied by someone with keys to the building but in typical Romanian fashion, plans shifted at the last moment and we were unable to see the interior.  We used the spare time to go for a short hike and enjoyed the scenic view of the rolling hills.  From our vantage point we could see the remains of a decommissioned gold processing plant on the outskirts of town.  Apparently, in the plant’s heyday there was a perpetual cloud of sulfur that would regularly blow across town when the winds were just right.  Lucky for me, the plant is nothing but ruins today; an eerie sight, as though a low-yield nuclear bomb had gone off in the middle of a small city.  The framework of five and six story buildings still stands, but all of the windows have been blown out and rubble piled everywhere.  This was perhaps an ominous site welcoming a potentially over eager Peace Corps Volunteer.

Rounding out the night, the three of us headed to dinner at the Colina Grande Hotel.  Translating, roughly, to “big hill”, not to “big colon” which is what first crossed my mind.  This is actually a quite nice establishment nestled into the “center” of Valea.  The hotel’s construction was completed a few years ago and still looks quite fresh and modern.  Regardless the restaurant was not taking food orders, supposedly because the hotel had a full booking that night.  Undefeated, we decided to venture the twelve kilometers into Ploiești for dinner at a restaurant called Doroftei Pub.  My colleagues had pointed this establishment out the day before as we toured Ploiești.  The restaurant is named for the owner and operator, famous Romanian boxer Leonard Doroftei.  Remarkably in the industry of food service, Doroftei is still very much involved.  In fact, on the way out we passed directly by him at which point he asked me in Romanian what I thought of the meal etc.  I explained in broken Romanian that I was from America and spoke only a little of his country’s language.  He immediately switched over to flawless English as we exchanged pleasantries and I went on to praise his restaurant for its excellent service, good food, and fun atmosphere.  My companions dropped me off back at the school dorm just at dusk and headed off in their own directions.  The end to another great day in Valea Călugărească.

Part 4 should be posted tomorrow with additional photographs.

Previously on As Romania Turns:

“About ten kilometers outside of town, we pulled off the road just passed a rusty and bent up old sign that read Școala de Viticulură.  Down the short side street, passed a horse and cart on the left we turned into the entrance of the school.”

And now, the continuation of our story…

The school entrance was denoted by a large green metal gate, which was pulled closed to prevent unwanted traffic.  Being that this particular Monday was the 51^st day after the Orthodox Easter holiday, school was out of session and largely empty as the holiday of Rusaliile was being celebrated.  After a brief minute, a middle-aged, burley gentleman rushed up to open the gate and with reciprocal smiles and waves we drove onto the school campus.  As we entered, the first building immediately to the right was pointed out as my permanent housing.  Before receiving my assignment for Eastern Europe, my first thoughts of Peace Corps accommodations consisted of a mud hut, no running water or electricity, no internet, a hole in the backyard for daily business and a cooker powered by yak dung.  Little did I know that I would be situated in Romania, the most advanced of all Peace Corps placements.  My future housing, currently manned by a local contingent of police officers, is quite spectacular by Peace Corps standards.  The building was originally erected to house staff members of the school, and is split into two mirror images, each with separate front and rear entrances.  My portion of the one story structure consists of an entrance hallway that is certainly big enough to secure my bicycle, a comfortably sized living room/dinning room, bedroom, small office, full bathroom and a decent sized kitchen.  As the Police move out and the school prepares the dwelling for my imminent move-in, all of the appliances are being replaced, from the toilet to the kitchen sink.  As this is an older building, I am certain that not everything will be perfect, but I believe that I will be quite happy there for the foreseeable future.  Perhaps best of all, I am on school grounds and thus will have unfettered access to the students; snow, rain or shine, I will be a stones throw from the main campus.

In addition to my new home, there are five other main school buildings.  The main schoolhouse in bright tones of orange, a smaller secondary building with more classes, labs and a small gym, a standalone building for the kindergarten, a large un-remodeled building that serves as student dorms and classrooms and finally the school’s cantina.  There are also a handful of smaller buildings for farm equipment and the school’s driver training car.  Surrounding the complex are fields for the production of various fruits and vegetables.  There are orchards for pears, apples, cherries, vines for grape growing and behind my house is a medium sized garden.  All of which is managed and maintained by the staff and students as an experimental resource.  Since such products are expensive, I am told that no pesticides or other chemicals are used in growing the plants.  Furthermore, the school does not sell to the general public and thus all of the produce is made available for sale to the students and staff.  Although the school was originally established as a viticulture school, they have broadened their subject base to define a wider agricultural bent that goes so far as to include basic veterinary education.  Over all, my initial impression is that this school is run quite well; the staff is energetic and they genuinely seem to care about their students.

Shortly after arriving at the school I was shown to my quarters for the week; likely a former dormitory, bright with sunshine and complete with everything that I would need for my short stay.  Following a little time to settle in and relax I wondered across the parking lot to the kindergarten for the next item on the agenda: “Kindergarten Activity.”  As I walked up to the small building and through the doors I could hear the authoritative yet poetic, rhythmic and welcoming voice of a religious leader.  A Romanian Orthodox Priest was giving a sermon; presumably on the topic of the Holiday at hand.  Moments later my lead counterpart found me from across the room and ushered me through the crowd to a short front row of tiny kindergartener seats.  That’s when the real show began; a troop of six year olds, lined the walls to the left, right and in front of me.  They were each dressed for the special occasion as if heading to their Senior Prom.  Like skilled puppet masters, three teachers directed the children through a series of interesting dances and well-timed performances, complete with memorized lines!  This was definitely one of the most precious events I have ever witnessed.

After the kindergarten celebration, my lead counterpart rounded up three high school students living on campus through the holiday and the five of us went to nearby Bucov Park, founded by Stere Constantin.  One early observation about Romania, in contrast to the United States, is that the population here actually uses their parks; day or evening you can find whole groups and families relaxing among the tree lined walkways, statues and lakes.  This particular public space apparently has hidden cameras strategically placed to film violators stealing flowers.  There is even a sign dedicated to the photograph and surname of those most recently prosecuted for making general mischief on the grounds.  As I put my hands in my pockets so as to avoid accidentally knocking over a tulip, we decided to visit the adjacent animal Zoo.  Though modest by some American standards, the Zoo was clean and well kept.  Many installations were empty for renovation but we saw, among other things, lions, bears and baboons, which were certainly the most entertaining of the lot.

Rounding out the long Monday, we left the zoo and headed to a restaurant named Fetească Neagră for dinner.  The namesake for a Romanian varietal of grape, the restaurant provided an elegant and respectable backdrop that lives up to its cousin’s reputation as producing a great wine.  A picturesque location that would rival many American wineries, last year this restaurant facilitated the two hundred and ten member wedding reception for one of my counterparts.  This particular night there were only a handful of us but the food and company were both great.  The night ended as I was dropped off back at the school with a memory full of new names, experiences and ideas, and a stomach full of pizza.  It was time for a solid but quick night’s sleep as breakfast was scheduled in the Cantina for 7:30 am sharp.

The next installment will be posted this weekend (fingers crossed).

Last week I visited the site where I’ll live and work for the next two years, Valea Călugărească.  Like the small village itself, everyone that I met was very welcoming.  My counterparts, the host country nationals that I will be working with, created a detailed itinerary for my visit; some days lasting from 7:30 in the morning until after dinner, 7:30 at night.  Although it was exhausting, I appreciate the thought and effort they put into making my visit a through and fulfilling one.  From meeting my future high school students, to meeting the town Mayor, we covered a lot of ground and shook a lot of hands.

We departed from Tărgoviște at about 10 am Monday morning from the Hotel Valahia where my two counterparts had spent the weekend.  The three of us piled into my colleague’s tiny blue Daewoo, typical of Europe, and bounced on down the road.  In the initial few minutes, as we briskly dodged poorly marked road construction, my counterpart reassured me that she had many years of driving experience; upon which my response was to ensure the tightness of my seat belt.  The trip from Tărgoviște to Ploiești, our first stop, is only fifty kilometers and typically takes less than an hour.   After thirty minutes on the road, we realized that we were heading to Bucharest, clearly taking the much longer, indirect route to Ploiești.  After realizing this it was decided that we would drive all the way back to Tărgoviște to regain our bearings and to start again.  In an effort to avoid being on the road, crammed into the back of the tiny car any longer than need be, I decided to offer the GPS services of my iPhone: this was perhaps more a curse than a blessing.  We quickly identified a shorter route (by distance anyway) and readjusted our course.  Little did I know how poorly maintained the roads in Romania are; a short cut that would normally take five minutes took twenty-five minutes as our fearless driver dodged and sometimes forged crater size, muddy potholes with her bicycle sized tires.  Passing small villages, open fields and herding cattle, we joyously made it back to the “interstate” which has better-maintained surfaces; though my kidneys may never be the same.

Around noon we arrived in Ploiești.  We drove through the city, down Bulevardul Republicii and the incredible tree lined Bulevardul Independenției, as main areas of attraction were pointed out.  Our first stop was the Gara, a beautifully designed though moderately maintained train station.  As we parked the car and walked up to the main entrance I was encouraged to keep a close eye on my pockets; though I honestly never felt unsafe.  The crowd, though scruffy, was spars and didn’t appear to offer much more than a beggar’s threat.  Once inside it was clear that some improvements had been made since the Communist era, with digital computer monitors, electronic ticketing and even vending machine cappuccino; the same could not be said for the trains themselves.  These are not the high-speed Acela trains we are used to on the East Coast, rather circa 1940 wagons that Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack might have ridden in before their fame and fortune.  There are actually three different classes of trains here in Romania, all with varying degrees of speed, comfort and reliability; hopefully the class this example belongs to is on the lower end.  Directly next door to the train station are two other methods of transportation, the “Maxi-Taxi” and beyond that, the Auto-Gara or bus station.  Both are quicker, safer and more frequent than trains but are also more expensive.  I am told that a typical bus ride from Ploiești to Bucharest is only 15 RON or 5 USD and takes only thirty minutes.  This is incredibly convenient, placing me among the three closest members of the Peace Corps Romania Group 28 members to the Capital of Romania; with the main international airport even closer.

After visiting the train station we found a free parking spot closer to the city center and walked around.  Our first stop was the farmers market, Halele Centrale, designed by famed architect Toma Socolescu and opened in 1925.  Unlike anything I have ever seen in the States, this market was a thriving ecosystem unto itself.  Every fresh fruit and vegetable you could imagine, locally produced honey, flowers, cheeses, meat and fish were on display for immediate sale.  Another place that one must watch their wallet, though perhaps not from pick pockets as much as wanting to buy everything in reach, this market will surely be one of my first stops upon returning to site.  Next, we walked across the street to the downtown shopping mall.  Much like any shopping center in the United States, with lame mall security guards, kiosks selling stuff no one in the world actually needs, to designer clothing and ever-present Ikea style particleboard furniture.  With a little extra planning, I can easily bypass this shopping mall for superior ones in Bucharest.  Not to say that I’ll be able to buy designer European belts on my Peace Corps stipend, but there is an H&M.  Our final stop in Ploiești was a nice little restaurant on the outskirts of town.  This is where I met the final of my three school counterparts.  The service was slow and the food modest, but the company was great.  In exchange for the box of truffles I offered as a gift I was given a bottle of Țuica and a matching family heirloom cordial glass; there’s no question that I got the better end of the exchange.  After lunch we went to the school where I had my first glimpses of my new home.

About ten kilometers outside of town, we pulled off the road just passed a rusty and bent up old sign that read Școala de Viticulură.  Down the short side street, passed a horse and cart on the left we turned into the entrance of the school.

To be continued….

The past week has been very busy; we completed our final practicum lessons, performed our first official language evaluation, discovered the locations of our permanent sites and participated in a conference with our new teaching Counterparts.  These are all very important milestones in our Peace Corps pre-service training and represent the completion of the first half of PST.  All of these events contributed to a very emotionally charged atmosphere with lots of tears and smiles alike.

Practicum consisted of five weeks where our PST group was divided up and sent to various schools in Tărgoviște.  In an effort to get our feet wet in the classroom, we were paired with veteran English teachers that proved to be nothing short of incredible.  The classes were mostly well behaved, respectful and inquisitive.  The practicum experience exposed us to new teaching techniques, cultural differences and gave us the opportunity, in a controlled environment, to prove to ourselves that we can in fact manage classes of Romanian children.  This was the first year that Peace Corps Romania tried this particular methodology of placing Volunteers in local schools.  Technically and logistically, the Program Managers put in an extensive amount of effort to pull this off, amazingly with very few bumps in the road.  Their hard work certainly paid off, giving the volunteers a firm foundation to build upon as we integrate into our permanent site schools.

Wednesday, the Program Managers held a debrief of the practicum initiative; each group was responsible for preparing a 20 minute presentation discussing teaching techniques and methods, cultural idiosyncrasies, group dynamics, lesson planning and lessons learned.  Although this activity was a clear invitation for an exercise in monotony, as we all had similar experiences, each group provided creative and compelling presentations on the aforementioned topics.

One particularly noteworthy segment included an anecdotal, though genuine, story of a fellow Volunteer with no prior teaching experience.  Obviously and understandably nervous at the prospect of teaching thirty some Romanian students, he thoroughly prepared a lesson, consulting one of our Volunteer Teacher Trainers.  Fully prepared, but not fully confident, he began the session by writing a quote on the board and asking the students for their opinion on whether or not they agreed with the quote.  Never mind the fact that the quote was from Friedrich Nietzsche, the question fell flat.  “Let me see a show of hands, how many people agree?”  No hands went up, so logically they all must have disagreed.  “Okay, let me see a show of hands for those who do not agree.”  Again, no hands went up.  This marked the point of a downward spiral in self-confidence that culminated in one petrified and frozen Volunteer and a student body keen to the nervous energy quickly filling the room, they were like piranha to a drop of blood.  In the end, my colleague had endured what all teachers must experience early on in the training process.  The hours that followed were full of overly critical self-loathing and ineffective attempts by group-mates to provide reassurance.  However, in an interesting twist of events the protagonist of our story returned the next week and was given a handwritten letter and a bracelet from one of the students from the failed lesson.  The young Romanian girl apologized for her class’s poor behavior and promised to offer more patience and serenity in the future.  My colleague has worn and pledges to wear the woven string bracelet as a continuous reminder to provide his students with the best possible teaching experience he can.  I share this story because it’s a perfect example of the dichotomy that exists in the classroom; one moment students can be ruthless and in the next they exceed our every expectation.

Like uncontrollable, falling dominoes, our group moved on to the next big folly: our first proper language evaluation.  The purpose of which was to act as a midway checkpoint of our language absorption.   Rather brilliantly, our instructors set up “stations” in various classrooms all throughout our usual educational corridor.  The stations were as follows: Shopping, Eating Out, Post Office, Transportation, Family and Socializing.  Each station was managed by one or two language instructors and provided a forum for which each volunteer could demonstrate his or her language proficiency in a closed environment.  In an effort to successfully evaluate each of the thirty-seven students at each of the six stations, every student had five minutes per station and a thirty-minute break in between.  Upon nervously entering a “station,” based on a predetermined schedule, a student would randomly select from a number of small slips of paper, each with a different scenario outlined in English.  Once finished reading allowed the given scenario, we were expected to act it out with the instructor(s).  As an example, my second to last station was “Eating Out;” my mystery slip of paper roughly outlined the following:  “You are eating out at a restaurant, where you place your order but are given the wrong meal.  Kindly let the waitress know that this is not what you ordered and insist that she bring you the correct entree.  If you succeed in this task the waitress will make two attempts to charge you for both meals, object to these and ensure you only pay for one.”  Needless to say this would be a difficult task after speaking the language for months let alone weeks, top it off with a guilt trip that it’s your waitress’s first day on the job and secondly that she has young children at home and will be forced to pay for the error out of her own pocket.  This one example took many different forms throughout the day and lead to a heightened sense of anxiety in everyone.  Like a well-orchestrated scheme of falling dominoes, the pieces sloppily fall into one another, but if you zoom out and look at the bigger picture a well-planned pattern starts to emerge.   This evaluation was an excellent introduction to the full length, forty-minute interview we are expected to execute at the close of training.  A colleague put it best: we may all have thought that we performed poorly but if we had video taped each session and sent them home to our friends and family they would be blown away by what we have learned in five short weeks.

The next major event on the agenda was site assignments.  This was the moment that we had all been waiting for since initially opening our Peace Corps “invitations” to serve six months ago.  Our Placement Coordinators have been working in concert with our Program Managers and Language Instructors to provide the best possible match based on the skills and interests that we bring to Romania.  It’s an arduous process; one that our Placement Coordinators are fond of comparing to a scenario in which there are 74 different shoes that somehow have to be matched, ‘rights’ with ‘lefts’ in an attempt to have a wearable pair.  Each school and each Volunteer had a list of desires, matching them to create a workable and lasting symbiosis is tricky.  In the end, their efforts paid off more successfully than I could ever have imagined six months ago.

In typical Peace Corps fashion, nothing is simplistic or bland; the staff decorated our school’s cafeteria in festive American Flags, streamers and other party decorations.  A loudspeaker and microphone were set up and the lunch tables were lined in two long rows, with Volunteers on the outside of each; in between, a red carpet was rolled out.  The Director of Peace Corps Romania kicked off the event with her reliably inspirational words of wisdom and obligatory mitigation of expectation, then she passed the microphone off to our event’s MC, a three year Volunteer and current PCVL.  After some additional words of encouragement the real fun began.  Each of our Language Instructors was enlisted to announce our site assignments.  In a pseudo-Oscar award nominee style, each volunteer’s name was randomly placed among four other similar yet humorous ‘nominees’.  With music reminiscent of Flight of the Valkyries, each site was handed out; Volunteers walking down the red carpet with a uniquely characteristic strut and/or occasional cartwheel.  Every volunteer was enthusiastically handed a sealed manila envelop decorated by a black and white map with a little green dot that was strategically placed over the most important city, town or village name that volunteer would utter for the foreseeable future.  My green dot encompassed the commune of Valea Călugărească.

In the county of Prahova and next to the county seat of Ploești, Valea Călugărească is a rural commune composed of fifteen villages and situated in the viticulture basin of Dealu Mare (big hill).  My assigned school, Colegiul Agricol “Gheorghe Ionescu-Sisesti” is an agricultural school focusing on vineyard growth and management, veterinary sciences, and farm equipment mechanics.  The school was originally built in 1908 but was remodeled three years ago.  The beautiful and freshly painted main schoolhouse remarkably hosts three information technology labs and, based upon photographs provided by a graduating senior, the classrooms are clean and relatively modern.  According to a summary provided by my future Counterparts, the school has 900 students pulling from a wide area and comprises 25 classes.  The background of each student varies but a significant percentage of the student body lives without one or both parents, as they work abroad in search of higher wages; many students live in a hostel on school property.

On Monday, June 13^th, I will travel to Valea Călugărească with two of my Counterparts.  They were in town this weekend for a Peace Corps organized conference, designed to introduce volunteers to their future collaborators and to communicate the necessary logistical and administrative information to all those involved.  This process is designed to provide a smooth integration among Volunteers and Romanian Teachers and proved quite engaging.  My assigned counterparts are enthusiastic, dynamic and intelligent individuals that seem committed to my successful integration into their school and community.

More to come upon my return later this week.

Similar in fashion to the Monastery field trip we recently made with local students from Targoviste, our group was again invited by a different school to participate in a hike at the base of the Carpathian Mountains. The day started at 7:40am, as several volunteers met at one of our regular bakeries; used as a landmark and to load up on our daily sugar/carbohydrate fix. From there we made our way to the part of town in which the participating school is located. After introductions to the students and a bit of socializing among volunteers we loaded up the tour bus and left Targoviste around 8:30am.

A few short stops, a couple small towns, several treacherous switchbacks and about two hours later we were at the head of the trail. As we unloaded the bus and loaded our packs for the journey we were introduced to Marius, a history professor from the school. Through translation, Marius relayed, in a quick huddle to the forty of us a brief description of what lay ahead. “We are glad to have you all here. This will be a moderately difficult hike, about three hours in and three hours back out. We will stop at the Cabana Bolboci for a one-hour lunch break. Gata?” It became clear after the first kilometer that the Romanian definition of “moderate” was more like the American definition of “difficult.” Add to the variant definition of difficulty, a vastly underestimated distance and we were left with a much more “adventurous” trip than any of us had originally bargained for, let alone those members of our group that are 60+. The “three hours in” quickly became five as we made several lengthy stops to allow all members of the group to reconnect*.

Despite the failed expectations in complexity, the trip was absolutely nothing short of incredible, hands down the most interesting and beautiful hike I have ever been on. The scenery was quite similar to what you might expect from the middle stretch of the Appalachian Trail, in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, yet parts were reminiscent of Yellow Stone National Park with giant flat bare rock formations towering over us in the distance. The trail followed an active stream the whole way with several seemingly rickety though well maintained bridges. The streambeds themselves consisted of giant bright white boulders, similar in color to limestone but presumably more resistant as they have clearly experienced years of rushing water. Several waterfalls dotted our journey, large ones in the stream itself and smaller ones coming down from the mountainside that fed the larger body of running water. Following Marius’ example, and ignoring our resident Peace Corps Doctor’s advice, we drank from the fresh water, which was impeccably crisp and refreshing.

Along the route we encountered a handful of dwellings whose owners were actively tending to their gardens, various other chores or grilling for an afternoon barbeque. Throughout the day we came across locals that were simply stretching their Saturday afternoon, leisurely enjoying each other’s company along side bottles of wine, beer and undoubtedly the local Romanian home brew, tuica. At our midway point, we meandered around the bottom of the Locul Bolboci dam to our lunch destination, Cabana Bolboci. The ski chalet inspired Inn featured rooms for nightly rent, a descent menu, good staff and squat toilets. Never has a beer tasted so good as the Ursus I enjoyed on their log deck overlooking the lake, mountains and free grazing pet cow.

Once our guide arranged a ride back for those not interested in making the return trek on foot, the rest of us headed out. Though no easier than the trip in we made vastly better time as our smaller group quickly pushed forward in an effort to avoid hiking in the dark; we only paused for about ten minutes halfway back. As we emerged from the woods, we found that our bus wasn’t at the predetermined rendezvous point. A quick phone call to members of the group that had been ridden down revealed that the bus driver wasn’t interest in traversing the extra distance to pick us up, so we regrouped and trekked the extra four kilometers to meet up with our colleagues. After the two-hour bus ride back to the school and a twenty-minute walk across town, I returned to my Gazda’s bloc around 10 pm to a well-deserved shower and piping hot Ciorba de Pui; perfect end to the best day I’ve had in Romania.

Though I expect to be quite sore tomorrow I seem to be doing fine on this Sunday afternoon. All the donuts and other sweets my Gazda has fed me today in addition to the regularly sized meals I’ve received will likely all but cancelled out the calories I burned yesterday. So it goes in Romania.

This week is more of the same: practicum at a local high school, continuing language classes (though my group has a new instructor), and a one-on-one interview with a site coordinator. No plans thus far for next weekend, so I hope to use that time as a consolidated review as I complete the fifth week and midpoint of my Peace Corps Pre-service training.

*I will say that I was pleasantly surprised with my own performance on this hike as I was able to maintain pace with the group-leader the whole way in. As an additional aside, a smaller group of us dislodged from the herd and managed a return trip in only two hours. This later experiment made identifying future hiking buddies rather easy.

This past weekend I celebrated my 31^st Birthday here in Romania and quite honestly I can’t think of anywhere else I’d have rather spent it.  Even though I miss my friends and family back home, I am fortunate to be surrounded by incredible and thoughtful people in an unbelievably beautiful place.

Our PST class has established the tradition of singing a “surprise” round of “Happy Birthday” in the Romanian language when there is a Birthday in the group.  When it was my turn the experience was unique as I share a birthday weekend with another volunteer and had the honor of experiencing the song twice, back to back on Friday afternoon.

Saturday morning a friend came over to my Gazda’s flat with a fresh-baked homemade chocolate cake with fresh kiwi and grapes inside and out: it was simply delicious.  From there we walked across town to Chindia Park where we met up with several more volunteers for an afternoon of fun.  Chindia is an absolutely beautiful park.  There are old ruins, a rebuilt historical castle-like tower, gardens, a large pond for paddle boating, and dozens of statues depicting Romania’s many past rulers.  Entrance to the main park grounds is free, though there is a small fee to go up into the tower.  At the risk of sounding cliché the afternoon was somewhat magical.  The weather was perfect once a short-lived thunderstorm passed overhead and being that it’s spring, everything is in full growth mode.  Walking into the park was something out of a Tolkein novel as the trees were all dropping a whimsical white cotton type seed; it seemed as though it was snowing the entire day as they parachuted to the ground around us.  Adding to the experience was our backdrop, perhaps 50 yards away stands Chindia Tower and it’s adjoining historical buildings.  We set up camp at a small set of old ruins that appear to be the stone foundation of an old building in the shape of a “plus” sign missing one of it’s arms.  From there, we kicked around the soccer ball, enjoyed a few domestic Romanian brews, played Uno and made friends with a troop of Romanian armature Parkour athletes (Google it).

A little before dark our stomachs started to growl so we made our way to a restaurant that is adjacent to the park, called Alexo’s.  This place is written up in Lonely Planet as being one of the best and friendliest establishments in the city for tourists.  There is one main building to the restaurant with a dozen gazebo type structures out front that can each accommodate three or four tables.  We strung together enough tables and chairs for the ten of us and had an absolute blast.  The food was great, just what we needed after three weeks in country as it was largely Americanized.  A few of us ordered huge bowls of pasta, while I got the equivalent of a chicken and red pepper stir-fry with mamaliga.  This was also the first time that I tried Romanian wine since arriving.  All and all the wine was good, though they have a somewhat archaic method for categorizing their options, essentially separating them based on sweetness.  Oddly enough, since nothing here is served cold, the wine (red included) came straight to the table from a very cold refrigerator.  As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow and the group decided to sing Happy Birthday again in Romanian, I was impressed with how well the group had remembered the lyrics.  From there the group headed to another park in the center to hang out some more, this was the point where I figured going home would be the smarter choice for me.

Sunday morning, my Gazda mother and Sister-in-Law warmly greeted me with a special Birthday brunch complete with coffee, a bottle of Romanian white wine, a full plate of mamaliga, half a roasted chicken, fresh (green) shredded raw garlic and leftover cake from the day before.  This is yet another example of the endless generosity and thoughtfulness of the people surrounding me here in Romania.

This upcoming week should be good, more language classes, and practicum (this time at another school, my third in three weeks of practicum).  Friday I had my first full class session of practicum where I ran the class from start to finish on my own.  By PST standards we are only required to run one thirty-minute session, so I’m somewhat ahead of the schedule but mostly on par with my colleagues.  It was largely a review of “Jobs” and “Parts of the Body” for sixth graders.  The class was attentive, well behaved and responsive, making my job easier.  One of the students offered me a chocolate afterwards, and indicated that her Birthday was on Saturday, what a coincidence!  Four of my fellow PSTs, one current PCV and the Romanian teacher who normally runs the class observed me.  I received generally positive feedback from everyone; what’s more I had a blast doing it.  My main weakness, as I see it, is still lesson planning and content generation, but with practice and experience I will get better. Thankfully the teachers have been very supportive and helpful to this point.  Next week will be my micro groups first sessions in a High School, so wish us luck.  The trip to the mountains that was postponed is now back on for this coming Saturday.  We were originally scheduled to go on a Field Visit trip to meet current PCVs at their sites, but due to the Federal Government’s cut to the Peace Corps budget, we have had to cancel these trips.  That being the case the privately funded trip to the mountains is a decently distracting substitution.

Yesterday, after a long hike into the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, I walked back through Targoviste, passing some “old” haunts. During our first few nights in country we stayed in the Hotel Valahia, where we had our initial Peace Corps meetings, received our vaccinations and dined like welcomed houseguests. Though only two weeks ago, it seems like months if not years. The parking lot happened to be empty Sunday afternoon, lending an ominous desolation to my feelings of an exciting time long past. It’s incredible to think it was only two weeks ago that our rag tag group of Peace Corps Trainees dragged our obscene amount of luggage through the lobby, asked for toilet paper in worse Romanian than a two year old could manage and first experienced the culinary delight that is ciorba. The only explanation for this temporal shift of consciousness is the huge amount our group has been exposed to, with this last week not an exception.

Imagine walking down the hall of a school and over hearing a group of, on average 35 year old, students repeating the word “lemon” over and over again, giggling like it was the first time the word had ever past their lips. For the full effect, pretend you’re a clerk at the Post Office and shortly following your lunch break, in a sadistic joke, a troop of 38 Americans unexpectedly walk through your door asking, in seemingly drunken slurs, for envelopes, postcards and stamps while fumbling with your nations currency. If the local Romanians didn’t know better they couldn’t be blamed for thinking we were all simply mentally challenged, luckily for us we’re not, though we certainly feel that way a lot. To say that language training is intense would be an understatement. Our instructors are incredible and their teaching style is brilliant, but the shear volume is difficult to process. To put this into perspective, three of my four group members experienced various levels of meltdown last week, from verbal protests to full blown waterworks. I’m still trying to wrap my head around why one word, as simple as “student” for instance has at least four variations, based on gender, possession and plurality, and why there is also a different corresponding pronoun based on these variations. Fortunately the language instructors are patient with us, as much as you would have to be with a kindergartener. In the meantime, I’ll be repeating, “cabbage, peach, cherries, potato, carrot” etc, over and over again on my walk to school tomorrow, likely ignoring gender and plurality.

The TEFL aspect of our training this week was essentially broken into two parts. First we had instruction from a British trainer who is an expert on TEFL practices and has spent quite a lot of time in Romania and surrounding nations. The second part of our week was spent in the classroom of a local primary school assisting in various English classes from the fourth to eight grade. Both aspects of our training went well if not hectically.

The highlight of my week came on Sunday as I participated in a school-sponsored field trip to the Dealu Monastery north of town. Approximately thirty students, averaging eleven years old, sixteen Peace Corps Trainees and a handful of dedicated teachers marched six kilometers through the countryside to a five hundred year old monastery. The purpose of the trip was two fold; for the Romanian students to be exposed to native English speakers and for us volunteers to see a culturally and historically significant landmark. Regarding the former, the most common questions I received were “What is your name?” “How old are you?” “What is your favorite sport/musician/actor?” and “Do you have a girlfriend?” Needless to say their English is vastly superior to my Romanian. It was an incredible day, accented by much needed beautiful weather and plenty of laughs to go around.

On the agenda for this week: One-on-one with the Country Director, goal of starting a soccer and/or Ultimate Frisbee team, week two of practicum, additional language training and a hike in the Carpathian Mountains on Saturday.

P.S. Pictures to come.  In my infinite wisdom, I left the data cable for my Canon in the States.  To be remedied soon.

It’s been a busy week with lots going on at PST.  From the extensive, half-day language lessons to supplemental classes on safety, security and health concerns to our first onsite visit at a local school.  With the later being the most interesting.  Friday morning, the 39 of us volunteers met at the PST school in the southeast part of Târgoviște at 8am (an hour earlier than our usual start time).  From there we were broken up into small groups of four to five and escorted to one of eight elementary and/or high schools in the city.  My group went to the southwest side of town straight down Bulevardul Ion C. Bratianu, twenty-five minutes to our destination: Scoala Tudor Vladimirescu.  The school is typical when compared to most schools that I’m familiar with in the United States.  Painted cinder block walls, old school chalkboards, three or four stories, courtyard complete with basketball net and legions of children running in every direction.

Scoala Tudor Vladimirescu services students from the first grade through the eighth.  Upon arrival we were wished luck by our personal escort, the Director of Training for PST, and warmly welcomed by two of the friendliest teachers I have ever met.  As we went through the main entrance, four students dressed in traditional Romanian costume greeted us.  In youthful synchronicity, we heard the Romanian equivalent of “Welcome to our school.”  One of the students was holding a large round loaf of bread without a center; picture a large Bundt cake, but made of bread dough.  Each of us was instructed to tare off a piece and to dip it in a small bowl of salt; a tradition.  Next our teacher escorts hurriedly ushered us through the lobby to the Director’s (Principle) office where a large, clean-shaven, grey hair gentleman embraced us in his yellow dress shirt and suit jacket.  The Director doesn’t speak any English but welcomed us through translation.

After a couple short minutes we were brought into the first of four classes we would observe that day.  The students from each class had their own unique and enthusiastic spoken English variant on “hello.”  This will probably be the event that I look back on ten years from now and know as the exact second that my decision to join the Peace Corps was initially justified.  The class of fourth graders was full of excitement, nervousness and pure honesty.  They had decorated the classroom in honor of our visit with drawings, streamers, balloons and English greetings; my favorite expression written on the whiteboard in big bold letters was “Wellcomes!!!”  Despite this misspelling many of the students speak better English than I probably did in the fourth grade (I wasn’t and am still not much of an accurate speller).  The task at had for the day, of course, is for the five of us to observe English classes in session, so our lovely teacher protagonist set off to action.  She maneuvered the class as smoothly as one might expect from a tenured teacher, engaging the class in a way I can only one day hope too.  This first lesson focused on articles of clothing, colors and the use of his, hers and mine in complete sentences such “Is this her yellow shirt?”  Throughout the fifty-minute session the instructor used many different teaching techniques, exercises and activities to ensure comprehension.  Later she apologized to us for her poor performance, indicating that she was nervous with us watching, my chin dropped; the fact is that she was amazing and so were the students.

The class was not only mentally sharp but was dressed so as well.  Each student, guys and gals, had on a crisp white, button down dress shirt, silver vest, dark blue jeans and “trainers” or as we know them in the States, tennis shoes.  When prompted, and sometimes when not, they raised their hands, extended two fingers, as if making a peace sign and furiously flittered them about in an effort to garner the teachers favor to answer a question or grab something out of the “Mystery Bag” for English description.  The children were absolutely precious.  This same experience replicated itself several times throughout the morning until our departure shortly after 1pm.  Between classes, we used the ten-minute break to ask questions of our own in the small, smoke free, teacher’s lounge; where there was a large spread of cookies, cakes, vegetables, coffee, and tea.  Traditional hard-boiled eggs, beautifully painted, akin to Easter Eggs in the United States, were presented to each of us as an activity to encourage good luck throughout the year to come.  We were instructed to each pick one up and in turn bop it on top of our neighbors.  If a persons egg doesn’t crack on top or bottom they are said to be strong of will (mine broke on the top and bottom; so it goes).

A few interesting things that stood out in my observation:  the textbook was from the 90’s and hosted such characters as Dolly Parton, Iron Maiden, Blur and Whoopi Goldberg.  Also, the textbooks were clearly British in nature as witnessed by the aforementioned “trainers,” “trousers” instead of pants and “jumpers” in lieu of women’s sweaters.  The colors and styles of clothing in the pictures made me wonder how adults could possibly have taken each other seriously back then.  One thing scarier than the 90’s garb was our teacher’s perfect usage of cursive.  Aside from travelling back in time, Romania might be the only place were cursive is the de facto standard for blackboard writing.  My only salvation is that misery loves company and that the other members of my group are equal in their inability to effectively write in cursive.  Later I asked how important the use of cursive would be; let’s just say I had better start practicing.  Now remind me, that is two humps in an ‘n’ and three in an ‘m’ right?

This coming week we will have continued language lessons and will start our initial instruction on how we are to actually teach English.  Wednesday my group is expected to have our first practicum, where we will each be responsible for a very short part of English class instruction.  Wish me luck.