On June 16, I finished my first year teaching English at Scoala Gimnaziala Nr.2 Cudalbi, and since then, I’ve spent my vacation almost exclusively in cherry trees, lounging, nibbling on ripe fruit and napping intermittently.
I’m eagerly awaiting plum and peach seasons as I plan to dedicate myself to canning. That sounds rather grandmotherly, but come winter, I’ll have a cupboard full of fabulous jellies to help me through those frigid, frigid nights. Who knows; after returning to America, I may even dump my Peace Corps riches into a jam factory and deliver my magnificent preserves unto the masses. Shankland’s could become the new Smucker’s for the 21 century.
Unfortunately, leisurely lolling about won’t define my summer. There’s work to be done … a world yet to be saved. Last February, I wrote a grant for my school entitled, “The Spirit of Democracy,” which was accepted for the 2005-06 school year. Our school will partner with a Polish school. We will both establish student governments, student newspapers and student-run volunteer clubs. In November, 12 Polish students will visit us for two weeks, and in April, 12 of our students will travel to Poland. Obviously, this student exchange represents the highlight of the project. Most of my students have never ventured outside the region, not to mention to another country or on an airplane.
Of course, the project has a crucial catch, one of my own ambitious creation. Participating students from our school must commutate with the Polish students in English. Five or six of our students currently can pass muster. This summer, I must shove along another six or seven.
As I sit sweltering at my desk, I can’t help but appreciate America’s technological supremacy over the weather. We’ve got air conditioners, furnaces, thermostats, headed driveways, etc. to maintain optimal climate control. Our grocery stores stock almost all produce 24 hours a day, 365 days a year … blueberries in December, oh what splendor!
Conversely, the seasons here seem to dedicate much of village life. In summer, people rise early before the sun to work, disappear around midday for naps, and toil late into the evening tending their backyard gardens. As a result of the last, they enjoy an energizing diet of fresh vegetables and hearty home-raised chicken. Luckily, the summer heat doesn’t match the intensity of the winter chill, but at its peak, it can feel inescapable. Come the dead of August, you’ll witness a sea of shirtless men proudly caressing their guts as they meander down dusty village roads.
In winter, people confine themselves to fewer rooms to conserve heat from their wood-burning stoves. They work shorter hours and go to bed earlier. Their diets are dominated by heavy foods, such as sausage, beans, potatoes and pickled garnishes, ranging from the ordinary, cucumbers, cabbage and tomatoes, to the exotic, cauliflower and even watermelon. To ward off nippiness, many of my students attended classes wearing their winter coats and stocking caps. My refrigerator stopped refrigerating last night, but I honesty didn’t realize it until my kitchen had de-thawed in spring.
As I approach my final year, I look back on my mind-set during Pre-Service Training. I had developed bold dreams for my work and weighty expectations for myself. I would be creative. I would be dynamic. I would dawn a caped costume of form-fitting spandex and leap tall buildings in a single bound. Delusions of saving the world come preloaded in most Peace Corps volunteers. Altruism is what has partially compelled us to join. Now, standing on the frontlines, I see just how vast and complexly intertwined the problems truly are. Neither I nor any outsider can hope to solve them. Only the community itself by joining together and working in concert can carve out a brighter future. The people themselves must be the change they seek.
Unfortunately, much of Romanian society has yet to embrace the values of civic responsibly and collective action. Theirs is a developing democracy with lasting residue from 40 years of oppressive Communist rule. The people feel powerless. They see their leaders and intuitions as corrupt. They’ve turned skeptical and untrusting. Most are preoccupied with simply providing for their families.
I can’t save the world. I can’t even save this one small Romanian village. But, I can help empower people. That’s my role. Romanian schools focus solely on transmitting knowledge and ignore building character. Through my classes and projects, some kids will hopefully improve their English. Excellent. But if that’s all I’ve accomplished after my service, I will have fallen short. I must do more. I must challenge them to think critically and creatively and to honor the ideals of honesty and fairness. I must help them recognize the power of teamwork and the value of compromise. I must prepare them to lead.
All that above may sound like the late night ramblings of a wacky idealist, but it’s not. It’s what my teachers helped instill in me. I’m just over here repaying my debt … and, well, slaying vampires with my buddy, Van Helsing.






