Today? A Celebration

Flowers growing outside of my host family's house in Cricova

Eating sweet watermelon with my host cousin Elena

It’s July 26, 2011 and I have exactly ten nights left in Cricova.  As we are wrapping up our Pre-Service Training (PST) and gearing up for the actual volunteer experience, there are surely many thoughts swirling, minds twirling.  For me, I have been quite careful not to place much energy or thought into my move to Balti.  I have seen where I will live, I have met my work partners and all will unfold as it will. 

I do anticipate that as the swearing-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer approaches and as I am packing my bags here in Cricova, I will experience some emotion.  These feelings will range from fear to excitement  to anxiety and all in between.  But there will be one constant: bottomless, omnipresent light.  Let me explain…

This blog post is in no way meant to be a “brag about how wonderful it is that I can move about the world and keep a smile on my face and oh how wonderful it is to be me” post.  No, this post is a celebration of learning and acceptance...of surrender and through all, of feeling…this little light of mine. 

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When I was a wee thing, my mom sent me to Vacation Bible School.  I remember sitting on the cool pews of the church on hot summer days and belting out songs about this little light ‘o mine.  I was pretty into it at the time.  And I am finding that same song popping into my head here in Moldova…so far from home…so far from being that little girl.  And yet she is very much still a part of me. 

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Summers when I was growing up, we would spend the last week of July and the first week of August on Cape Cod.  We stayed in the beautiful town of Wellfleet where one could relish in any multitude of summer activities.  We would spend our days on the gorgeous beaches playing paddle ball and boogie boarding.  Afterwards we would stop by one of the fresh water ponds for a rinse and head back to the house for steamed clams and corn on the cob.  These two weeks were by far my favorite of the year.  But there came a time when those vacations stopped.  My sister married, my brother passed away, I "grew up".  I would try my best to emulate some semblance of a summer vacation with friends.  We would rent a place, or stay in someone’s lake house for a week.  I would drag boyfriends to the Cape to try to relive my younger days.  One summer, when I was 26 I even moved to a resort town for a entire summer after being laid-off from my full-time job.  I sensed my soul needed the fresh air, the excitement of summer living, and of course, the ocean.  A rebirth was just beginning…

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Yes, this  post is to celebrate that today, at 29 years of age, I am perfectly happy to be spending my last week of July and first week of August in a developing/transitioning nation riding a bike up and down poorly paved streets and dirt roads with my 20 year old host sister by my side.  It is to celebrate the joy to be found in waking at dawn to prepare for lessons in Russian, the fun in forging new friendships with folks whose paths I would have never otherwise crossed.  I am writing this post to share with you the immense joy I feel regarding the fact that I no longer feel that I need (or am entitled to?) a “summer vacation”, a beach house, trips, tans or tonics to experience the absolute joys that are a summer day: fresh fruit, long hours of sunlight, and laughs with friends, crickets filling the air. 

That today, a day where I couldn’t help but beam a smile straight from my heart, I truly feel at peace…THIS is a blessing. THIS is life and I am wise enough to know that THIS feeling will not last.  Times ahead will be hard, but I know that at the bottom of all the emotions that I will go through, of all doubts that I will have, and all times I will question, “what am I doing here?”, there ALWAYS be: this little light of mine.  


I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE!

Om tat sat.  With love and gratitude.

PS-Can I just add that as I wrote the final words of this post my host mother came inside calling my name and I followed her outside to find fresh beet, carrot, apple juice?!  WHAT?  The heart sings and the universe rewards J

Processing

Tonight Diana and I went for a bike ride.  It was my first Moldovan flight, legs peddling hard and wind in my hair.  It felt so good to move fast...as fast as my thoughts.  We felt like two French ladies on our bicycles as we moved quickly past the vineyards of the famed Cricova winery.  It was fun...pure joy.

I haven't written a blog post in some time and wanted to check in with you all.  It's certainly not that "nothing" is happening.  Of course life is happening.  So much so that I am deeply in a state of processing.

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It is high fruit season here, meaning that many of the sweet fruits of summer have reached their peak.  The aroma of apricots, peaches, cherries and raspberries permeate the hot summer air as the Moldovan women wash, peel, pit and cut the fruits for preserving.  They are processing.

(n.) process- a systematic series of actions directed to some end

There IS some end, and there are many parts and means that build up to this end.  Currently I find myself still slaying dragons (for another post all together).  Being far from home, far from the people and places that for so long "helped" to shape my identity and ideas of the world, I have an amazing opportunity to decide what will come along and what will stay behind.  There is so much I have learned, but what garners wisdom and what brings destructive illusion?

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Some of the fruits are to be enjoyed on these hot summer days.  And others, processed with the intent and understanding that they will be enjoyed in the future.  If we don't process these fruits now, we cannot enjoy them later, perhaps when times are cold and dark.  We must make choices every day on how we will be sustained.  What are you processing?


Om tat sat.

Я еду в Бeлць!

In other words (well same words, different language...), "I am going to Balti!" (Transliteration: Ya edu v Beltz).  Now that is a hard word in general seeing that even though I 'spelled' it correctly, it's actually pronounced "Beltz".  

And so it is!  We got our site announcements yesterday.  I will be working with an organization called Pro Business Nord in the city of Balti.  I am very excited!  I think that being in an urban center will provide more opportunity to teach yoga than I might get in a village.  I will also get to meet many people and of course practice my Russian.

I can honestly say that it is times like these that the flexibility of yoga comes in handy.  I certainly never imagined that when I joined the Peace Corps I would find myself in an Eastern European city speaking Russian.  My nomination had been for the Caribbean.  I imagined myself on a warm island helping growers find better markets and prices for their produce and products.  I would sleep under a palm tree and eat mangoes for lunch.  But it was only an imagination and NOT an expectation.  And so I was never too let down.  The less we "expect" out of life, the less we suffer.  

I heard a swami say something very interesting shortly before I left for Moldova, "It is important to be 100% invested in all we do, and yet 0% dependant on the outcome".  This is a VERY difficult concept, espeically when applied to businesses, outcomes and financial "security".  But in LIFE, when we give up the need to be in control (an illusion anyway), and simply do our duty, whatever that may be (in the Carribean, in Balti, scrubbing floors, fixing things, starting businesses, ect.) without a dependence on the outcome of these activities to define who we are and what we are worth as humans, we suffer less.  When our worth comes from within, we are always whole.

Om tat sat.

Julie Wags Her Tail



Not Julie, but in the same spirit

The other night Diana and I went for our usual evening stroll (you know, the one you pray makes some difference in regards to the bread, butter and jam you managed to fit in with tea after dinner).  Sauntering down the road on one of our usual paths, we came across two young boys chasing one blonde dog down the street.  It was cute to watch and I wanted to help them catch her.  She seemed unaffected by all just moving from one flower to the next and going wherever she pleased.

As I got closer I thought I heard the boys saying, “Julie, Julie, Julie” between laughs and reaches for the little blonde dog.   Ok, I KNOW the world does not revolve around me, but I swear these boys are saying my name. 

I looked to Diana, did she hear what I was hearing?  She told me that perhaps that was the dog’s name, that it was typical in Moldova for people to name their dogs American names.  This couldn’t be.  It was too much of a coincidence…a dog named JULIE in Cricova?  And so I asked Diana to confirm the dog’s name with young boys and sure enough they said with glee, “Julie!”  The Universe finds new and creative ways to humble me.

I was of course in shock and laughing hysterically over the irony of the situation.  You see, I have always had a good laugh at the idea of naming a pet a standard American name.  It’s actually a joke I have with some friends from home: a dog named Robert, a cat named Lauren…and so on.  And yes, a pet named Julie IS funny.  I am getting better at laughing at myself. 

The boys continued to chase little Julie up and down the street, always a few steps behind her unassuming and quick pace as she took in the world around her.  They all enjoyed the game. 

Om Tat Sat.