Different Kinds of Lessons in Moldova
By April Simun (Moldova 2003-2005)
It's not every year you get a goat for Valentine's Day. My 73-year-old host mom misunderstood a radio broadcast that meant to relay that Americans often give gifts to their animals to show their love.
And it's not every day that someone stops you on the road and asks if, by the way, you happen to have any of your hair for sale. I chose to take it as a compliment. And I wondered if she would really want some of my hair if I washed it more often.
But then, this isn't every day.
Gifted goats and hair hustlers are the kinds of things that make life in my 2,000-person Moldovan village zany, crazy, and altogether interesting. (And that's not even to mention the fact that I think the majority of people back home don't really know exactly where I am living these two years. They know I'm in the Peace Corps. And most of them know the name of the country begins with an "M" — Morocco? Malaysia? Mongolia, anyone? But the correct name of Moldova, the little former Soviet state tucked in between Ukraine and Romania, may or may not make their Top 10.)
Honestly, I can't say that I grew up my whole life dreaming of someday becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer, and in Moldova, no less. The Peace Corps made me think of places like West Africa or South America. Exotic places with grass huts and sand and excessive heat—even way more humid than in my native South Carolina.
But not Moldova. Not a place with unheated, concrete block buildings in the midst of snowy winters.
Still, here I am.
And am I glad I came? You bet.
Because the truth of it is that I can't really imagine any other experience that could teach me the lessons that Peace Corps/Moldova has.
