Some photos - i hope

Just some images of Moldova that I would like to share with you. One day I was at the market around closing time and here are some of the things I saw.

People work so hard here. And they make very little money for all the hard work they do. And professionals don't do much better. My Romanian teacher, Oxana, graduated from university and only makes about $50 (not sure if that's per week or month, but either way, it's not a lot!) as a teacher in a public school.

OK - this is the house where i live. :-)



This next one was taken last Saturday when I was out walking. Couldn't resist taking a picture of this guy. He stopped to chat and we had a lovely conversation. He didn't speak romanian, but Russian and so we understood about one word of each other's conversation but we gabbed away for quite a while. I said something about Baptist and he said Pentecostal. I said Canada and he said Moscow circus. I think the horse was in the circus, but who knows. It was just one of those very fun moments. Glad I can share this photo with you!

Rules for Riding Rutiers

What a ride I had tonight!! Whoa! At one point I felt like I was standing on the back of a horse – bareback – holding the reigns and riding standing up trying to keep my balance for all I was worth. I am finally starting to learn my lesson about routieres (no, I don't know the proper spelling), I think. Did I tell you, by the way, that I call them ‘miracle boxes’? That’s because miracles do happen every day in Moldova when 2 or 3 times as many people squeeze onto these mini-buses intended to seat 14-16 people. When they were built, nobody indicated to any Moldovans that there might be a limit on how many could stand in one. So, for example, the other day when I was hoping to get on one and the person before me was not moving any farther into the bus allowing space for me, the woman behind me actually started pushing me onto the bus so that there could be room for her too. I wasn’t in a big hurry, so I stepped back and let her perform the Moldovan miracle as the bus drove off with her safely(or not) squished against the door(see rules 7 & 8).

So - here are the rules for riding on these miracle boxes:
1. If you want to catch the much more convenient (large) bus from Chisinau centre to Ialoveni, find out BEFOREHAND what time the last bus leaves from the station. It will save you from waiting in the cold for an hour, hoping a bus might come, meanwhile missing two routieres that would take you where you want to go eventually.
2. Find out where some of the other routieres go so that you will know alternate routes on such an occasion.
3. If you have to get off before the final stop (once you actually get on a minibus), don’t move, or allow yourself to be moved to the back of the bus. Otherwise, even if you do know where you want to get off and try to call out and are not heard-or understood – you will miss the ideal place to get off. Also, if you’re still stuck at the back when the minibus stops, you may not manage to get off before more people are squeezing into the front door against impossible odds. (Tonight the door closed before I got to it and I had to cry out in my impeccable Romanian – “No, no, no. I’m going. Stop! Wait! and in English – please let me off!!)
4. It is actually preferable to ride the routieres only during daylight hours so you can, in fact, determine where it is you want to get off. One of the interesting things about these buses is that the driver keeps the inside lights all on at night so you really can’t see out the windows – and don’t forget there are very few streetlights in Moldova.
5. Have your money ready to pay the driver, and pass it to him straightened out, not crumpled up. He likes that better. And if you didn’t pay him when you got on the bus, remember to pay him before you get off. (Some routes you pay on entry, others on exit.)
6. If you need change, sometimes it helps him if you tell him what you have passed to him. You may think that keeping a foothold as the minibus swerves around a corner, narrowly missing the trolley on its right and the car trying to pass in the non-lane on the left, is a challenge, but think of the driver. He has to maneuver on Chisinau streets and make change at the same time. And sometimes he has to do that while arguing or having a conversation with a passenger. (I can’t tell the difference yet.). Don’t expect him to double-check the bill you just gave him.
7. If you are able to stay near the front – actually, if you are unable to move anywhere beyond the immediate right of the driver, squished with 3 other people between the driver and the door, it is in your best interest not to block the driver’s view of the rear-view mirror on the right, especially if it is time for the customary race on the highway with the closest routiere going in the same direction. Also, figure out a way to stabilize yourself, firmly planting your feet on the floor, bracing yourself, holding a bar if possible but otherwise bracing your hand or your elbow or even your head against the ceiling. It is probably not a good idea to lean against the door and it is in your best interest, no matter which way the van lurches, not to push your knee against the gear shift nor to land in the driver’s lap. Fall towards the back of the bus – it may actually help people to move back more effectively anyway.
8. Again, with a preference for driving in daylight hours, if you do not urgently need to get on a crowded bus to get somewhere fast, why bother? It’s much easier to wait for the next bus and maybe get a seat on it.
9. If you can actually get a seat and you will be getting off at the last stop, or the most popular stop, feel free to sit in a window seat halfway back. There are three advantages to this:
a. you aren’t above the wheel going over the bumpy roads.
b. All of you is on the seat. When you’re on the aisle seat, sometimes you can only get one half of your backside on the seat, especially if you are a generously built person, sitting next to another generously built person. And with only one half of your bottom on the seat you still have to brace your legs almost as much as if you were standing - to ensure you don’t fall off the seat going around those corners.
c. Halfway back is better than near the front where you have to be passing people’s money back and forth to the driver. (Another interesting thing about these buses. People pay once they get safely seated. I.e. if you sit in the back seat, once safe and sound you can pull out your money and pass it to the person in front of you, who in turn passes it along till it gets to the driver. If you need change, it is passed back from the driver through all the intermediary people, just the way it came.
10. Find out what you need to say and exactly where you need to say it, so that the driver can drop you safely right at your front door, without slamming on the brakes and causing you to go flying out the front door.
11. “Mergi cu Domnului.” (Go with God.)

Where do you keep your goats?

It may seem like a strange question but the thing is, you never know where animals will show up in Moldova. For example, the other day when I got off the minibus I realized that the building directly across the street was a post office. (And I thought of the times I had made a point of going to Chisenau with stamps being one of my specific errands!) I was glad to make this discovery as I had forgotten to mail a letter that day.* So I crossed the street and stuck my letter in the box that says ‘Post’ adjoining the building , hoping it is indeed a mailbox. As I walked away from the building, I noticed that there were goats grazing in the front garden of the post office. Not sure whose they were – but there they were! A couple days later I was walking down on the lower back road and there were a couple more goats – possibly the same ones – looking relaxed and content outside the fence of some building. No people around, nobody tending them. So, where do you keep your goats?
The other evening as I went for a walk, there were a flock of turkeys wandering along the side of the road. They seemed to have enough good sense to stay off the paved part where cars travel but it did seem slightly odd to this urban Canadian to see turkeys ranging for food along just any road they happened to fancy. Since then, I’ve noticed that animals can actually show up anywhere in Moldova, except in houses. People aren’t big on house pets. Animals are purely functional. Dogs are kept outdoors to guard the property. And if the dog doesn’t belong to anyone – maybe even when it does – it wanders wherever it pleases. I have seen any number of dogs wandering around the streets of Ialoveni and Chisenau. Many of them appear to be nursing mothers and yesterday afternoon on my walk I even noticed a couple of young pups out for an adventure all by themselves. Nobody takes much notice of these mongrels, but I was pleased this morning that the minibus driver did slow down and honk his horn when the dog crossed the road in front of him.
Speaking of dogs, we have dogs that ‘guard’ the OM Centre. There is Deena, the mighty German shepherd who has a good loud bark but in fact may be slightly ‘off’ mentally as she sometimes can be seen going in circles in her kennel.
Cassie & Sam (Sam is the gold one)There is also Cassie, who belongs to OM, I think. And Sam, the dog that belongs to Matthew and Helen, and who is my friend. Sam came to them in a sack with siblings thrown over the wall last spring. The puppies were in a pretty sorry state but the Skirtons found homes for them and made a home for Sam. They are building a new house and Sam will be their guard dog at the new place. After all, Sam does know how to bark, but he also makes friends very easily, so I hope no intruders discover that!
The interesting thing, with all these dogs, is that nobody walks them. They just stay outdoors in their kennels all day with very little attention.
Now you may ask is there a guard dog at my home in Ialoveni. In fact, there is not. But never fear, the people next door have a rooster whose bounden duty it is to continuously crow from the first sliver of dawn’s light until the end of the day. I’m sure that rooster will strike fear into the heart of anyone approaching with evil intent.
In any case, I am secure in the love and protection of my loving heavenly Father. I appreciate your prayers for my physical safety and protection and would ask that you would also pray for spiritual protection as I seek to serve the Lord. I do believe there is an enemy who resists the light of the Kingdom of God. May the light of Jesus Christ shine clear and strong through my life and witness. Trusting in Him, all will be well.


*By the way, I am still trying to determine how long it takes for mail to come and go here. So far, I think it takes at least a month either way. Perhaps if I received more mail by post, I would be able to figure it out more easily (hint, hint). 

Language Learning

The short essay on this is: It’s hard.
More details? My day largely consists of language learning. Most mornings I work on my homework from the previous day’s lesson. Then I make my way to the kitchen where sister Maria is preparing lunch for all the students, the staff and any guests that might happen to show up at the Centre. Matthew often has pastors or visitors from other countries dropping by to find out more about OM’s program and ministry. The students are in the Challenge into Missions program, levels 1 and 2. Level 2 are offering leadership to the level 1 students. They have classes most of the day for two weeks and then they are sent out in teams to the villages to put into practice the lessons of discipleship, service and evangelism that they have been learning. I was privileged the other day to be able to speak to them about prayer and how important it is not only to be praying for others and for the world, but also to have people praying for them. (I know how important that is, and am so thankful for all my faithful prayer supporters!)
So anyway, I help Maria in the kitchen, learning not only how she prepares the food but how to say cabbage, as I grate it, or carrots, as I chop them, or potatoes, as I peel them. And she asks me about my day or my activities and I understand maybe a tenth of what she says, but every day it increases minutely.
Dinner is at 1 pm and after that I either go for a walk, or downtown to run and errand and maybe speak some Romanian or maybe simply be jolted to death in the ignominious minibuses – what a ride that is! At 3 pm is my Romanian lesson and by the time 1 ½ -2 hours is up, I have had my fill of the language for the day. But tomorrow I will do it all again and I will know more than I did yesterday! Praise God for His patience with us!
Today I am sad because I missed the opportunity to go to the airport to say goodbye to Sarah. But I did give her a parcel to take home and deliver to Ben for me, so I am glad about that. Sarah, if you ever get around to reading this, la revedere!! And thanks for being here! God bless you real good!
As soon as my lesson is over I run for the computer as after office hours is the only time one can really get access to the internet. So here I am, thinking of you all, and glad to be receiving e-mail and to know that you are thinking of me! God bless you all!!

Mamaliga

Before I left Canada, I took my son and daughter and their respective significant others to a Moldovan restaurant in Toronto. I was told that a typical Moldovan dish is ‘mamaliga’ and so I ordered that, just to try it. The first truth about mamaliga that I learned there, is that it comes in a mound. Secondly, it is served with sour cream. And there was something else at that restaurant, but I don’t remember it. In any case, the second time I had mamaliga was at the girls’ house here at the OM Centre. The girls take turns preparing the meals and all seemed pleased on this particular evening at the prospect of having mamaliga. True to form, it was served in a huge mound on a plate in the centre of the table and people helped themselves in large spoonfuls. There was sour cream to go with it and some kind of meat sauce also. The Moldovans present really enjoyed the mamaliga, with or without the meat sauce. Personally, I felt that the meat sauce provided some of the needed flavour.
Today I found out exactly what mamaliga is, although I was pretty sure I knew. This morning in my new casa my hosts were preparing a scrumptious breakfast of mamaliga. I watched Lena make it – basically adding cornmeal to boiling water – and there you have it: mamaliga! True to form, it was served in a big mound on each plate and I was madly scrambling for the words I had learned the other day but have quickly forgotten for ‘Stop! That’s enough!!’ We stood to pray before sitting down to this new breakfast adventure.
The secret, I think, of good mamaliga is not the substance itself but what it is served with. First of all there is a dish with crushed garlic cloves – many of them – mixed with oil, water, and a strange substance she referred to as borsch which could be broth, I suppose, but I really don’t know. Domnul Gisca (Mr. Gisca, or Ion is his name) had crushed an odd-looking cheese that apparently is made from sheep’s milk. So, you take a forkful of mamaliga, dip it in the oil/garlic mixture, then in the crumbled cheese, then in the sour cream. The garlic really gives it the flavour it needs and the sour cream eases the nip of all that garlic! We were happily eating our mamaliga and I do like it ok, then Ion pulls a bottle out from under the table and pours the contents into a bowl. They set that between them and give me a small bowl for myself. It looks kind of like sour cream but lumpier and more runny and I mistakenly put some on my plate to go with my mamaliga. Wrong! I watch as they drink it by the spoonful from their bowl and Lena encourages me to do the same. I taste it and it’s really not too bad. I ask what it is and basically Ion says they buy it (milk??) from the store, leave it in a bottle for 3 days and then drink/eat it. So does that mean it is sour milk? Not sure – not sure I want to know - but it was good.
Unfortunately I need to leave in time to be at the centre at 9 and there is no way I can finish the mound of mamaliga that is still on my plate. I am realizing that breakfast really is the main meal of the day and although I am rarely hungry enough to eat everything they want to feed me at breakfast, I might do well to do so as the evening meal is basically bread and tea. I apologise profusely, thank them for the wonderful breakfast, and rush off to catch my minibus to the OM Centre.
Mamaliga – a true Moldovan meal! Slava Dumneul! (Praise God!)

My New Home

You take the number 35 ‘routiere’ (minibus) from Chisinau to Ialoveni (pronounce yellowven) and you get off at the town ‘centrum’ and walk back up the hill. Turn left at the corner where the goat is tied by the lamppost and it’s just a few houses down on that road.
The house is #11 and like all Moldovan homes it is surrounded by a fence. Most fences are either blue or green – this one is green. You open the gate and go through to the door and ring a bell that sounds inside with a melody like a cellphone. Sister Lena opens and greets me and the language challenge begins.
(My house is the one on the right in the picture.)
I have a room at the back of the house which looks out on the road and am careful to turn off the lights at night before changing as the curtains are merely lace. They certainly don’t keep any cold out but my hostess kindly provided me with a nice comforter that enabled me to stay warm at night. That is, once I put on my sweatshirt and wrapped a polar fleece around my legs and happily wore the cozy socks that Elaine gave me before I left. I have been so grateful for those socks! I do have to get myself a pair of proper slippers though for walking around in the house. Moldovans always remove their shoes upon entering, so slippers are essential as the floor is cold. So tomorrow is Saturday – my day off – and I will go to the market and buy some slippers and hangers and other essentials.
Anyway, my house is luxurious by Moldovan standards (i.e. it has an indoor toilet and electricity and running water) and my host is so kind. Please pray for patience for all of us as I grapple with the language. We try to communicate and I might understand one out of ten words she says. At our training they said that we would be tempted to give up and withdraw and I am beginning to understand that now. It takes so much effort to have the simplest conversation but already I know I have learned a great deal in such a short time. So I must persevere! Two hours with my language teacher each day helps but also makes me realize more and more things that I still need to learn. That can just be scary! However, the motivation to speak Romanian is that much greater now that I am in a home. And Matthew told me this morning that he would like me to help him next week with a seminar on how to share your testimony. Then he said next January I would be teaching that seminar (I’m thinking to myself, that’s something I can do) and then he adds in an offhanded kind of way with a slight grin….”in Romanian”. And the wires connect, reality hits, I realize that six months from now I will look back and think how hard it was and how I thought I would never learn it and yet I will have learned it and I will be able to converse and it will just be a distant memory of the past. I have to believe that, as so many missionaries before me have done. I put my hand in the Lord’s and thank Him for new challenges and that ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
And the Lord blessed me so much this morning. Some of you know that my favourite tea is peppermint. Since I came here I have not been able to find a brand of mint tea that really was very good. This morning with my breakfast, Leona offered me ‘cheai’ (the Romanian word for tea) and when I tasted the delightfully hot drink it was the most wonderfully flavourful mint tea I have ever had. And of course, she showed me the mint leaves that she had grown in her garden! How good is the Lord, to grant such a blessing – small perhaps – but it is in the small things that those who love us demonstrate the depth of that love. As the hot tea warmed my insides and soothed my spirit, I felt loved by God this morning. I hope and pray that each of you are also experiencing those little miracles and blessings that are there to remind you that you are precious to the Lord and He loves you.
One last thing I want to share. As I came out of the house this morning to walk to the bus stop, the first sound that greeted me was the “Moooooo!!!” of a cow that wasn’t there last night but today is tied to the fence across the road. Welcome to Moldova!

A Sunnier Day!

Greetings, all!
Well, today the sun was shining, the bathrooms were working and I went to meet the family with whom I will be staying for the next three months. It is a couple in their 50's - empty-nesters - who live in a village called Ialoveni (pronounce Yellowven) which is about 20 minutes away by minibus. I will stay there and come in and out to the centre most days or visit in the community with different people who will help me with my language. My Romanian lesson went very well today and I knew most of the words from the first few vocabularies AND I actually had what might be called a conversation in Romanian with Sister Leona, the woman whose house I will be staying at. Are you impressed or what? Praise God!
And - the very best news is that the house has an indoor toilet - never mind that you have to flush it with a bucket! There is also warm water for bahing as there is a propane heater (like the one we had in Poland) in the bathroom. I have my own room and there is an empty cupboard to hang my clothes and a table to set up with all my books and papers. At last I can spread out a bit!
Ianos (pronounce Yanosh) is from Ialoveni and he took me there to see it. Oh - my ride is here and it's time to go - watch for more details! Glory to God for all his goodness.

Morose in Moldova

Ok – well, maybe not really morose, just kind of disappointed. Perhaps more than disappointed. I was supposed to go to my host family today but for reasons unknown to me it didn’t work out and I may have to stay here at the OM Centre for a few more days. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the plumbing problems. And the fact that a whole group of students for the training program are arriving tomorrow. That meant that I had to move out of my cozy bottom bunk in a room with 8 other people into the basement room and a mattress on the floor. But that really isn’t so bad as my snoring was keeping people awake anyway. Can you believe I actually confessed that in a public place – that I snore?! Well, I do… and if your illusions of me as a picture- perfect missionary have been shattered… who am I kidding – not one of you thought of me that way, or is surprised that I snore, are you? My snoring is legendary. J
Ah, the life of a missionary! I have to say that one of the difficult things we are dealing with has to do with schedules, times, expectations and communication. We North Americans expect things to function according to the schedule. When they don’t we get upset because other plans need to be rearranged or simply because we expected something to happen at the designated time and it didn’t. Eastern Europeans don’t seem to work that way. We found that when we were in Poland and it’s true here. Schedules and plans change and one is expected to ‘go with the flow’ or to figure out what has changed. For example, last night I was in the Centre (which is also where the guys and families stay) and they were serving the light evening meal. So, I was in the building and I joined them for the meal. Then I discovered that the girls were in the other house and had prepared an evening meal and sent someone to see if I wanted to eat. (Technically, that’s where I should have eaten.) So, tonight – not wanting to repeat the faut-pas – I was in the girls’ house at the approximate time people eat but there was nobody else there and nobody was preparing food…. So eventually I went back to the other building and there was everyone sitting at table… Who knew? This is not untypical – things just happen and it seems you are supposed to figure out what is happening and when, and if you don’t know you have to ask . But first you have to find the right person to ask – that is, the person who is responsible and who hopefully knows enough English to communicate it clearly.
And that brings us to language learning. I am. A bit. A very small bit at a time. In the mornings I am assigned to spend time with ‘Sora (sister) Maria’, our cook, as she is preparing the dinner (which is the noon meal) in the kitchen. She doesn’t speak English so if I ever want to converse with this most wonderful woman, I am going to have to learn Romanian. This morning I learned how to say ‘ appa fierte’, which means boiling water, and I also learned the words for ‘wooden spoon’, ‘sink’, ‘pot’, and ‘meatballs’. (She was making meatball soup.) But when she spoke to me in sentences I was totally lost. So for now I think our time will largely consist of vocabulary building and practicing a few short sentences.
Fortunately, in the afternoons I am assigned to spend 2 hours each day with my language teacher, Oxana, who is a lovely young woman who speaks English very well and knows how to teach a language. So we are working through the text book and doing lots of additional stuff as we go along. I’ve written down all kinds of things that I wanted to know and she has answered questions that arose from my time with Sora Maria. I know this is going to be really great and in a few weeks I will be amazed at how much I have learned. But right now it is frustrating when I want to converse with someone and I have written down the words I want to say but can I remember them without my notebook? No way! Sigh…. I have a great new appreciation for the many, many people who have come to Toronto not knowing the language and have mastered it so amazingly well. If you have contact with any of them, please remember to speak slowly and to include them in conversation as much as you can. You have no idea how exciting it is when someone is jabbering on with words that are totally meaningless to you and then suddenly you recognize a word! Wow! Then you know you are on the right path. Next week they will be jabbering and I will recognize two words! Please pray for me.
By the way, Carol, thanks for reading my blog and commenting but I still am not sure if it is Carol R or Carol B! So let me know, ok? I love you both!
Anyway, I would have to say that today has been the first of one of those ‘culture shock’ days we were assured we would have. And up until this very moment I was allowing myself to indulge in a bit of a pity party. But when I consider the agony of all those people affected by the earthquake in Asia; and the concern of my team leader, Rafael, for his baby son who needs to have some kind of operation for his kidney; and the burden of responsibility on the shoulders of Liuba and Janosh who are leading the training program that begins tomorrow, I realize that I should redirect my pity into prayer for others who have far greater problems than I do. Not that I won’t have a good cry at some private moment – probably in the shower( if it’s working.)
Sorry I can’t post any pictures – the internet connection seems to object to that practice so I might wait a bit. And just so you know, I have burned a CD with all my photos thus far and I gave it to Sarah to take home with her. She will be delivering it to my son Ben so if you are interested in way more pictures of my travels, get in touch with Ben to borrow the CD. I think Sarah is heading home on the 20th and I am guessing that Jane Johnson will be the first to contact Ben about the CD, so you may want to contact her rather than trying to find Ben. Sarah lives in Unionville, very close to Kathleen Wilson and her family so I am hoping those two will connect as they will really hit it off. Did you hear that, Kathleen?
That’s all for now. Sorry for so many words and no photos. I look forward to hearing from any of you that would like to write. My current address – in case you forgot – and where I can receive snail mail – is c/o Operation Mobilisation, Casuta Postala 2366, 2012 Chisinau, Republic of Moldova.

Culture in Chisenau

Today Sarah and I spent the afternoon and evening together just being Canadians in Chisenau. It was the wine-tasting festival and the street was closed off and people were everywhere. There was a whole string of wine-tasting booths which we avoided in favour of the parallel food booths. Managed to communicate what we wanted food-wise, and then went looking for a table. There were none empty but some vacant seats on the end of one bench at a table. The people warmly welcomed us to sit down and began conversing with us in a great deal of Romanian. I understood virtually none and Sarah understood a bit more than that. The woman sitting next to me was very close and very friendly - arm around the shoulder, offering me wine and cheese, etc - while her brother was telling her to leave me alone and let me eat (I guess). It was quite hilarious and we took a picture and the other lady gave Sarah their phone number... go figure!
Then later we walked through the park on the way to the coffee shop where we planned to eat supper. Halfway through we saw a bride and groom with a whole group of dancers in traditional Moldovan costumes dancing around them! It was amazing! What fun! It turned out the dancers weren't even with the wedding party but were with one of the wine factories and just happened to see the couple and decided to help them celebrate. It was awesome.
The plan for the evening was to attend the opera - Sarah's first! So for 20 lei (@$2) we each purchased a ticket to Tosca and saw the performance in the Chisenau Opera and Ballet Theatre. In spite of the great price, there weren't a lot of people in the theatre but those that were, were not quite like a Toronto audience. For example a girl in front of us was receiving and making calls on her mobile during the performance. Across the aisle from us was a guy who obviously was a great opera fan and felt compelled to sing along with some of the best songs. (I kid you not.) The lady next to me had actually come to advertise some organ concerts and leaned over to me after the first act to tell me about them - when I didn't understand, one of the girls in front of us translated for us. The lady wasn't there for the third act - maybe she didn't like the show.... During the second intermission, Sarah, who could never be described as shy, heard some people speaking English so she walked over and introduced herself to them. I came over too. It turned out they were with the Salvation Army - Norwegians working in Moldova and friends visiting them from the US. We had a nice chat and they helped us get the story straight about the opera since we didn't know the story line and we couldn't figure out the Romanian program. At the end of the program people from the audience took flowers up on stage to the performers. The funny thing was that they gave flowers to the two male leads but the female lead wasn't given any flowers! There is no end of surprises here including the washrooms we finally found in the basement of the opera house and then almost got locked in by the time we made our way back to the entrance. We had SUCH a fun time today!
Took a taxi home successfully but only because Sarah knows enough Romanian to tell the driver which way to go - and she knows the way home. She has truly been a gift to me - not only in the fun we had together but in the sharing and encouraging we were able to give each other. She misses her mom and I miss my daughter so we're a good combo. Thank you, Lord!
Tomorrow I will attend a Moldovan Baptist church in Oru (?) with Matthew and some others. Watch for more details...

How sweet it is...

...to walk down to the end of the road and see a whole huge vineyard stretched out before me with vines laden with clusters of purple grapes! What a beautiful country this is! When I was praying one day, the Lord reminded me of the passage in John 15 where Jesus says, 'I am the vine you are the branches... abide in me. For if you abide in me, and my words abide in you, you will bear much fruit.' Oh that my life would be as fruitful as these Moldovan vines!!
I will see a bit more of the beautiful countryside on Sunday when I go to Orhu with Matthew and Vlad to a service at the Baptist Church there. Then in the afternoon we will go to a Pentecostal church service. I have been instructed that head coverings are required for married women, and probably for any older women such as myself. (Just remember most of the girls here are 21-25) The director of the Central Europe division of OM - Paul Stilli - has been with us for the last couple of days and will be till Monday. He is a very kind, very gentle, loving and encouraging man. He sat with us through the annual reports and discussions about the ministry and all that is going on. It has been a very informative few days for me and I have a much broader overview now of the work of OM Moldova.
Next week I will be going to stay in a Moldovan home. I have no more details yet except that Rafael hopes to find me a place with indoor plumbing!
Please pray for me tomorrow as I am going on one of the minibuses by myself to town to meet Sarah. The mini-buses are really something: jolting up and down over Moldovan roads/streets that have no lanes clearly marked, driving fairly quickly. You wave down the mini-bus outside your house, get on, sit down, pass your money forward and wait for the change to be passed back from the driver through all the other passengers to you. When you want to get off, you tell the driver where to stop! It costs 2 lei to take this bus, which is about 10 cents!
Anyway, I will probably write more after my adventure tomorrow. Sarah and I are going to meet, shop, eat, and go to the opera. Would you expect I could see Puccinni in Moldova???
Happy Thanksgiving to all! We won't be having turkey but Sarah and I are going to make apple crisp, since we can't make pumpkin pie. (no pumpkins, fresh or canned - and no Crisco!!)
I send my blessings and love to all of you.
Barb

Here at last!!

Dear friends,
Thank you so much for continuing to follow me on my journey. I arrived here safely on Monday morning and watched the miracle of the taxicab as Rafael, our team leader, met us at the train station. He proceeded to take all our luggage (for which we had to pay for an extra berth on the train) and directed the cab driver to load it in his small station wagon. I wish I had the opportunity to take a picture of all these huge suitcases, a guitar (Claudia's) each of us with knapsacks in our lap, 3 of us squashed in the back seat and Rafael holding the guitar in the front seat next to the cabbie. I wouldn't have believed it was possible. Praise God!
Anyway, the train trip was long but uneventful. It was great to have Dana helping us with Romanian translation, and we had a long layover in Bucharest but it was very wet and rainy. Nevertheless we walked to the People's Palace during a lull in the rain and I was very moved to be at that historical place, remembering well the events of 1989.

Me and Claudia, People's Palace - Bucharest, Romania
Then we were on another sleeper to Chisenau, no problems at the border and even got some sleep. It is fall in Moldova and we could see people working in the fields as we travelled through. Very few tractors. Mostly people working by hand - saw some donkeys and carts too. I will probably spend a week in a village sometime in November or December.
Meanwhile, I will stay here at the OM Centre for a week and then move in with a family in Chisenau for 3 months to learn the language. That is obviously an imperative and at last nights prayer meeting they were interepreting for me but everyone else here does speak Romanian, including the other 'foreigners' (Dutch, British, and Brazilian) who have learned it since they came. I will receive lessons each day and Soara Maria, the cook, will be my language 'helper'.
It is interesting to truly be a 'foreigner' (which is the meaning of my name) for the first time in my life. Pray that I will soon feel at home here.
Computer access is very limited so please keep sending e-mails and I will write or blog when I can.
Oh, yes, I must tell you that I was warmly greeted by everyone here but especially by my fellow Canadian, Sarah, who has been here for three months and goes home soon. What a gift her huge hug was on my arrival!
Now, in case I don't get a chance to get on line again before the weekend, Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends! Be assured that I am extremely thankful. God has brought me here safely and I am continuing to thank Him for your support and love and prayers. Don't stop now. Pray for me to learn this language, especially that I can figure out how to roll my r's.