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HAVERFORD
GRAD FINDS SECOND HOME THROUGH PEACE CORPS
Note: Julia de la Torre '98 is currently serving
as a Peace Corps volunteer in the country of Moldova, and will share
her experiences as part of an occasional series for News@Haverford.
“Why would you leave your life for two years
to move so far away?” This was the question that my friends
and family asked me before I left for the Peace Corps in June 2003.
When I boarded the plane for Moldova—a small, former Soviet
republic between Romania and Ukraine—I knew I was in search
of a challenge. I wanted to see where my teaching skills could be
used, and if I could ‘make it’ in a developing country.
But my overriding reason for joining the Peace Corps was to contribute
to something bigger than myself.
My primary job here in Moldova is to serve as a university-level
English teacher, as well as a teacher trainer. My week is split
between teaching American culture and conversation classes to my
students and offering seminars on teaching methods to secondary
school teachers. My site is Cahul, a town of about 50,000 people
in the south of Moldova, 5km from the Romanian border. Since arriving
here, my projects have multiplied to include starting an English
resource center for students, putting on a local English Week celebration,
and creating a newsletter for teachers.
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| A view
of the hills of Mereseni, a small village in the central
part of Moldova, where Julia lived during her Pre-Service
Training for Peace Corps. |
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Moldova has provided me with many challenges, as
I learn more about its culture and people. It is a recently independent
country (as of 1992) which constantly experiences the ‘growing
pains’ associated with standing on one’s own. Moldova
is a country still deeply rooted in soviet ways, yet it works hard
to preserve the language, tradition, and culture of its past. My
community speaks half Romanian and half Russian, the language split
being the most obvious manifestation of the division of interests
here. But stronger than the conflict that may exist is a feeling
of warmth and friendship that Moldovans have for each other and
for visitors. Their gates swing open to offer you a glass of their
house wine or a handful of fresh fruit from their gardens. They
will dance the hora until the late hours with you, sharing not only
their music, but their zest for life and for their land.
Ten weeks into my time here, I was washing my clothes
by hand, chatting with my host mother as we watched the storm clouds
rolls in (always my luck). My Romanian was limited, but my gestures
and acting ability seemed to be just as effective as words. She
apologized for the conditions of her house and of her village, lamenting
the fact that I had to fetch well water in order to bathe. I tried
to communicate back just how wonderful her village was for me and
how, aside from my own family, I had never felt so at home. It was
at that moment that I realized just what I needed to be happy—a
warm home and a “family” that provided me with the support
necessary to live in my new country.
So when I think back to my friends asking why I would ‘leave
my life’ for two years, I realize that here in Moldova, I
am still living. In fact, each situation I face here reminds me
of how my life is evolving, and how I got the very challenge I was
originally seeking.
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