Adventure on the bus

Last night as the”kids” celebrated the birthday of Andrea in the bar, I decided to go to the internet café and had heard that the last bus to my village left at 7:30.. Well as usual, I dashed out of the café moments before the deadline and found myself in a pitch-black rainy night! I navigated the mud patched and deserted streets of Ialoveni to the bus stop (in my finest black sandals). As I rounded the bend I saw that last bus pulling out toward Milestii Mici and. I knew I’d never stop it in time. Fortunately as any good volunteers would do, I already formulated an emergency backup plan – I would call Anastasia. She lived in Ialoveni and I’d have to stay at her place tonight… she assured us previously that her Russian-speaking host family would molest us if we came over, so I figured it was a viable option. I might be a little late in the morning for language classes, but at least I’d get home!

I waited alone at the bus stop deciding what to do. Finally some Moldovan joined me and knowing that desperate times call for desperate measures, I started speaking Romanian to them!!! I was able to tell them that I have Renell and I am a bus…they were quite amused!

After a few more tries, I learned that the young couple lived in Milestii Mici and the last bus home was at 8:30. Once I knew this, I felt at ease and backed up under a tree to stay out of the rain.

After almost a half hour, with the rain still pouring down the white bus pulled up and I felt familiar again, that is until I opened the door and it did not LOOK like a rutiera and further more it did not SMELL like a rutiera!!! I was already in, though, and as we took off into the black night, I looked and did not find the famliar windshield sign displaying our destination and at that moment, I realized it was NOT A RUTIERA!

What I could glean from the conversation around me was this driver’s name was Dick and he had picked up his friends instead of making them wait for the bus… What then was I doing here???? I think at that moment Dick and his friends were discussing the very same thing!!!!! Oh momma!!!

I tapped my new friend on the leg and asked “Milestii Mici”? “Da” she said and turned her attention once again to the young man snuggling up next to her. I was so happy to quickly see the sign for our village and knew I was at least one step closer to home. They started talking to me at this point and I was afraid they were expecting to drop me off here and it was a very very long walk home from here!!!!! Actually in this rain and mud and my best black sandals...IMPOSSIBLE! I communicated to them “I am going to my house!” and of course the next logical question was… “Where do you live?” I said “Milestii Mici” and beyond that… how do you say…… how do I say????? Shit I don’t know where I live!!!!

Instinctively my linguistic and pantomime skills kicked into high gear as I explained I was somewhere past the disco and the soccer fields and beyond the centru and up the hill… Well the driver dropped all his friends off and it was just the two of us to figure out where the hell I lived! I just hoped he understood that he needed to drop me off where the rutiera would normally do so or I'd have NO way of knowing how to get to my house. He didn’t seem too happy having to navigate the bumpy streets of Milestii Mici, but he brought me to the familiar bus stop 5 muddy blocks from my house.

I’d heard about the mud and I’d actually packed some appropriate boots, but they were back in my house as I thought the sun would shine today. Without the trusty penlight attached to my jacket (thank you Mr. Johnson!!!!) I would have stood alone blindly in the middle of the black street and cried! Instead, I was able to take one step at a time over the rushing rivers, which were now etching caverns in the streets. I decided to take the longer route, which offered pavement, and it took me to the magazin that I visit each day after school. My friend Valiere welcomed me in as usual and when I told him I was going to my house he laughed and pointed at my best black sandals, now caked with mud. He suggested in the only language he knows (romaneste) that I call my brother Stefan to deliver my boots for the rest of the way home. Lo and behold, technology once again interferes with the best laid plans and the phone is busy due to internet usage. So Valiere helps me with my homework while I wait for the rain to subside and slowly but surely one dirt pile after another I arrive safely and soundly at home!