romanian ramble

Last night when Allison was reading yesterday's entry, she asked me, "how old are these people on the porches?" I said different ages, sometimes they are very old. Remember back in May when I was looking for the quarry? I stopped and talked to an ancient man on his porch way off the main road. Al asked me if I could understand what he was saying. A little bit, I told her. That really hasn't gotten in my way. Remember that words aren't always needed, or desired.
The first time I was in Moldova, the country was only 5 years old. The landlord had moved out and left a new nation to fend for it's self. I'd been told that people under the Soviet system kept to themselves and weren't trusting. If there was truth to that, it was fading and people were beginning to find comfort in one another.
We were in a small village called Vatra just outside Chisinau, doing construction and helping pave an area beside a tiny, brand new, stone church. Just across the street was a little store and local drinking establishment. It was very hot and the water was unfit for consumption, so often we'd take a break, zip over there and get a Fanta or Coke. Once, as I started across the street, an old gentleman was just reaching my side on his way back from the establishment, all relaxed and uninhibited. I, thinking a hello and nod would be the extent of our passing, said, "hello". He stopped, looked up and just started talking to me in Romanian. This was not simply, "nice weather we're havin'", he went on and on and on. Ten, fifteen minutes. He'd laugh, so I'd laugh; he'd look concerned, I'd furrow my brow. I'm thinking, I faked him out with my one Russian word, so he thinks I can speak Romanian. When he hesitated for a moment, I thought I'd give it a try. In clear, barely accented English, I told him why I was there, where I was from, about my family. I told him I played basketball and ran track in high school, I like strawberries, the first car I owned was a 1975 Pinto, that baking soda was good to put on bee stings. I'd laugh, he'd laugh.
So the secret was out, now he knew. As soon as I hesitated, he took up with his side of the conversation again. After about 45 minutes of this, the conversation slowed and in English, he said, "bye". I snickered and said, "auf wiedersehen." He chuckled, shook my hand, gave me a hug, and slowly meandered up the sidewalk.