Appointments

My host families’ house is located near the center of Cenac, right off only the only paved street in town. Our neighbors include the discoteca/culture house (a stout one room building with very pink walls), the basirica and the post office. Up the street a ways are two of Cenac’s main stores and the Mayor’s office. Across the street from the Mayors office is Cenac’s only school.

Also next to the Mayor’s office, in what might be described as the “town square,” is a small stretch of road where people wait to hitchhike out of the village. As I mentioned in my last entry, hitchhiking is widespread: in my village, for instance, probably as many people hitchhike and carpool as own cars - probably more. When I walk through central Cenac, no matter the time of day, I’m likely to see villagers of all ages waiting for a car to Cimislia, the county center. Many are students on their way to school or older people buying produce. Like anywhere else in the world, people have to run errands. In Cenac, 10 lei (a little less than a dollar) is the understood toll for getting there.

Cenac’s only bus leaves for Cimislia once every day, in the morning. If a Moldovan misses that bus, she waits for a passing car. It’s partly due to these kind of transportation issues that the phrase “time is of the essence” isn’t in the Moldovan lexicon. Far from it. Punctuality seems like a foreign concept. (Luckily, punctuality isn’t expected either. Stopping for a 45 minute lunch at 1:50 PM on the way to a 2:00 PM meeting is entirely acceptable. People have to eat after all!).

For Americans in Moldova, this takes some adjusting to. Errands that might take a single morning in the United States often take a full day here. What would be daylong tasks take several, three-day tasks a week, weeklong tasks….well, you get the picture.

When I first got to site I would often ride with my host father into town, instead of taking the bus. “Domnul (Mr.) Ion,” I’d say, “I’m leaving for Cimislia tomorrow morning.”

“Yes? With who do you go?”

“With the autobus.”

-Waving dismissively- “Go with me tomorrow. I go to Cimislia.”

“Thank you Domnul Ion. But what time will we leave? I must be in Chisinau (the capitol) early. If you have other things to do I will take the bus. It is no problem”


-Hearty laughter- “We will leave at 9AM. There is no doubt.”

The next day.

9:30AM

Outside, Domnul Ion approaches.

“What are you doing here Mat? Soon, we have left.”

“OK Domnul Ion. Tell me when you are ready.”

10:30AM

Domnul Ion walks toward the car. Excellent, I think. I call out. “We are leaving now, yes?”

He turns to me, “No. Măt! You stay here! I must go to the tractors. I will come soon. And soon we have left.”

11:30AM

“Măt! Let’s go! We have left!”

11:45AM

The car stops outside the Mayor’s office.

“Măt! You stay in the car. I have to do one thing here. Soon we have left.”

12:00PM

We drive into the middle of some field and stop.

“Măt! You stay in the car. I must check the grapevines here.”

12:50PM

Finally, we pull into Cimislia’s bus station, “See! We have arrived early! Call me when you return and I will come for you!”

“Thanks Domnul Ion.”

Despite knowing that I’d arrive at my destination 2-3 hours later than intended, I repeated some version of this episode several times early in my service. It was difficult to get used to, if only because he so emphatically insisted that I go with him instead of taking the autobus. But I would learn in time, and something I should have realized earlier, is that his insistence was borne of his hospitality. It’s his nature. He did not want me to have to take the public bus if he could help me himself. Indeed, he was providing me with a service most volunteers go without, and one which I, and few Moldovans, rarely are able to take advantage of. He assumed I could wait because a service like that was so rare. In a situation like this, time is not of the essence.

Still, it wasn’t long before I began taking the morning bus.