(I realize these pictures are awefully small. Click on Photos above the blog and you should be able to seem enlarged.)

My house--I asked for running water but the person before me used the well for water--and Blackie:

 Crooked bridge in Vladesti—the good thing is if one falls in, the water's not too deep…

A long awaited moment: true happiness at site

At COS conference one volunteer aptly stated that it stinks that we have such a short time left (2-4 months) to enjoy the fruits of our hard work. I can’t state how true this is. For the last twenty months I’ve assisted on projects which have failed, projects which succeeded, tried to no end to cultivate a  social network in town; in general I've spent twenty months doing what I think I should be doing under the auspices of a peace corps volunteer—many a moment frustrating!  Finally, I have two good friends (I speak of Romanians here) and yet only three months to enjoy their company! After three different tutors and daily frustration, I can speak Romanian but again for such a short time. The most irritating thing is that right now I’m so happy: I love where I live, what I do and my daily schedule. Why couldn't I have had this feeling a year ago? In short, I am happy that I am sad to leave. Honestly I didn’t have these thoughts a year ago, nay six months ago. Some may disagree with this point but I am sure a fair amount of my fellow PCVs here would concur: we’ll take physical hardship over mental hardship any day when it comes to being a volunteer in a country or at a site, or an assigned job.

Perhaps most importantly I am happy to be ending my service on a high note, to finish strong because that is what I’ll remember ten years from now not what my first six months at site were like.

COS conference/Mission Accomplişed:
A fabulous sign made by some volunteers (the tail under the s makes the s sound like a sh).

This is a picture of all the volunteers in the Transylvania region:



and now this is a picture of the volunteers in the Oltenia part of Romania, see why I get lonely sometimes!

This conference is the last time where our group meets before officially ending service and I lost my voice there, go figure.  As a result of friends living at least eleven hours away from me, no Americans to talk to close by, I overcompensate at conferences—the lost voice was well worth it, I had a great time. 

It started off on the right foot with the dreaded language exams. I wasn’t sure how I’d do since my first year was basically all in English, yet I’ve had tutoring since fall so I was a hopeful realist walking into the exam. To my joy at the end the teacher gave me a rough score…I couldn’t hold in my grin. One of my biggest goals from the gecko was to really learn the language--something I thought wouldn’t happen last year, but it did! Now if only I could find a job using Romanian

What to leave behind
At the conference we had a short workshop on what to take home and what to leave behind. Here’s my list…
Sore throat/cold/running nose: It seems for the vast majority of time here I’ve had to deal with the above. It has become part of me because when people remark “:oh Adriana you have a running nose” I respond with “tell me something new”
Bugs, specifically: roaches/bed bugs/fleas.I don’t need to elaborate but I will say my first night in America on a non infested bed I’ll be on cloud nine.
Annoying teenagers: I run to relieve stress but unfortunately because running is not common boys feel the need to say something…usually something stupid. That and the general weekly female harassement I am pretty much done with.
Clothes: I’m going to have one heck of a time shopping when I return! Ladies get ready.

Easter
This past Sunday was Orthodox Easter (90% of Romanians are orthodox). The best way to describe the days leading up to Sunday and the actual day in terms of chaos and celebration is to compare it to Thanksgiving. The Friday before everyone is trying to leave the city and get to their family’s house in the village. I mean everyone. Trains were standing room only, the metro crowded as ever in the capital. I, as well, was trying to return home from Bucharest. Normally the metro route I take is deserted since the bus station is on the outskirts of town however this past Friday no one was getting off at earlier stops. This gave me serious cause to worry. If hundreds of people were on the metro with me it meant one thing: they were headed to the same bus station! Bus was the only option for me to get home and it was already 5 pm with buses running until 8. I needed a plan. Still on the metro I did a little jig to get closer to the doors so when they opened I could jet out. There is an advantage I have over the rest of the riders: power walking. Walking fast is not something you’ll see here. I exited in a snap, ran up the stairs, zigzagged across numerous kiosks to reach the station when I had to confront a new problem: Romanian lines. While I was the first out of the metro I was not the first to the bus station. There is no polite unspoken rule of personal space in lines: the elderly will shove comparable to the college student. With that said I ran to the first bus I saw and stood in line for a ticket thinking I would have to beg the driver for a ticket without a chair (meaning standing the entire time—only three hours but the last hour consisting of wicked S turns, hills, not to mention factoring in Romanian style driving).

Once home, all male residents were grocery shopping—buying the last two dozen eggs, a random pig’s leg, lamb, or ten loafs of bread (on top of another ten at home) because the females were tucked away in the kitchen preparing mounds of food. On Easter rather than searching for eggs kids play a game where one knocks a dyed red egg over the other with the first person saying “histros a inviat,” and the second “adevarat a inviat.”  Whichever one doesn’t crack is the winner. These three days I think it is plausible for a person to get through the day saying nothing but those two phrases.

Lastly here are some random pictures of my birthday party camping expedition.

Spelunking, thinking, taking a leap, and enjoying a splash with a friend Julia