I know he found it, and that I will get it back because he called my school on Monday morning to let me know. I hadn't arrived yet, so the person who answered I guess decided to let everyone know...just in case. Thus the cleaning lady stopped me on the way in to let me know, then my partner teacher told me, the school director popped in after my first class to check if I was in the loop along with three other teachers, and finally a couple of my seventh graders included a warning not to be late in their departing words on their way to lunch. I was half expecting a call from the mayor's office and the police, if only I had my cell they probably would have tried to reach me. Ah the joys of living and working in a small community.
So, I am rushing to get out the door as I don't want to miss the bus as it ambles through town, though technically there is about an hour long window in which they may arrive. I can't find my keys, and assume that I left them at the high school after practice...probably in the door, a classic thing for me to do. Thus my host brother scampers off after the spare key for my little house so I can dress more warmly for the wait on the edge of town. By the time we rouse the whole family for the search and actually locate the keys it is a bit too late, so I decide to risk it and just head out in my school clothes and parka.
I get there in plenty of time luckily, or unluckily depending on your opinion, as this means that I will simply be standing out in the cold in the windiest spot in the village.
Thankfully the guys who work there know me, and are amused eternally by talking with me, so they mercifully invite me in to chat while I wait.
We pass through the normal topics...my age, job, marital status, why I don't want to marry any of my 18 year old students (this baffles them), and are just getting into politics when the bus shows.
The driver knows me well. Not only have I done the 11 hour circuit with him innumerable times, but under his watch I have lost a variety of items... and had two laptops stolen. I have even in one case successfully placed my baggage on board the bus only to subsequently fail to be present when they left the station (I caught up with them 2 hours later). Thus, he has gone through just about every crisis with me, and barely bats an eye when he hands my Nokia back over to me. He doesn't even bother to admonish me, just gives a few accounts of folks who have called and been confused with the level of Romanian proficiency the person on the other end displayed. Thank god he is a patient individual, and one who realizes just how much money he has made off of my all too frequent forays into the capitol.
I bid him a good evening and safe travels in the worsening weather, then trudge off into the darkness on the path back home. I get back and discover my lost keys in my left back pocket (I had only checked the right). My elation is short lived though as I discover that today's cold snap has frozen the padlock on my door. Twenty minutes later I am huddled over a cheap plastic lighter trying to protect it's weak flame against the none too gentle breeze that has been sending our normally flightless domestic foul aloft all day long.
Luckily, the gods seemed to be delighted at the fact that I was still viewing my situation with mirth and let me off the hook. My lock ground open and I trudged in with my three sacks of stuff that accompany me on basketball days.
Today passed a bit more smoothly. English classes, grant reviews, computer repairs, and doing my best not to laugh at my school director who informs me that I am charged with finding $35,000 to build a bathroom for the school. I almost convince him he is ridiculous by pointing out that a complete house can be had for less than 10 grand around here, and other schools have done similar projects for less than $4000.
I get home in time to set up my fire before dinner and actually chew before running off to study Russian. The walk to my tutor's house is greatly improved by the falling temps, with the normal sea of mud a now passable layer of quasi permafrost.
The lesson goes well, but I have gone back to feeling like a linguistic idiot, bumbling through at a level of understanding and capability far below your average 2nd grader here. Thank goodness my tutor is one of the many warm and patient people I have encountered here, as I probably would have lost my mind having somebody repeat pronouns in English as many times as I have slogged through them in Russian.
My efforts in tongue calisthenics are rewarded though during my walk home. Not really directly, but I am treated to one of the best nighttime vistas in recent memory. It had stopped snowing and the moon was doing its best at drowning out the stars. There was about 2 inches of fresh undisturbed powder on the ground, and the day's persistent wind had shifted and was at my back the whole time.
I walked home through the silence and enjoyed having the village to myself for a few brief minutes. The outlines of the houses with their blinking windows clearly visable in the whitewash of the moon.
---So I realize that I haven't written in a bit....ok a good long bit. In remittance I am going to try a bit of an experiment, writing one entry per day for the next month. So many times I decide not to write because doing an entry is a long process, and thus some of the fun little tid-bits of life get overlooked. Thus, for those of you who haven't completely forgotten this web address, or simply given up on me, I am hoping to give you a bit more of a picture of everyday life here in the old Mold.
Don't forget to check out the links of my fellow PC Moldova bloggers (to the right-->). Some ain't too shabby with a keyboard, and most are more diligent with their blogs than I am.
Toate cele bun.
