The Texture of Town

Each day that I wake up, I am welcomed by the sound of a breeze blowing through the grape leaves outside of my window. On the sill of this window sit two potted plants that I think are the last plants I would have seen in my life. Back home in Buena Park, I recently lost the most beautiful and abundant of flowers called a fuchsia. I arrived in my home at about 6 pm and found two potted plants of fuchsia waiting for me on my window sill. I am looking at them now through my translucent white curtain. It is rather amazing and peaceful.
After I bathe and eat my big homemade breakfast, I walk about a quarter mile to the local school which might be the only high school in the area. I am not sure if this is true, but I have a strong inkling that it is. I will find out and report back. On my way, I must pass the local market which is apparently the equivalent of a Walmart. In this store you can find anything you need but the perishables from gum to bikes to washing machines. Simple amenities can be obtained in a store close by at the local magazine, the equivalent of a local 7-11. The road is firm, but dry and can be dusty when a car speeds by. When I arrive at my school, I sit down with three other Peace Corps volunteers and continue with Moldovan language lessons. There are three other sessions with four volunteers each. Lessons last from 8:30 – 1pm. After language class, I am lucky enough to walk home and have a home cooked meal waiting for me. The meals here in this house are great. When this meal is finished I have to make my way back to the school for another three and half hours of technical training which typically consists of learning how to be a more effective teacher of English while incorporating the ideals of the Peace Corps, the Moldovan school system and the site schools.