The First Departure

Perhaps it is a tired cop-out to quote Monty Python. Nonetheless, it seems quite possible that Judith of Life of Brian fame said it best in her dramatic coup de grace: It's happening, Stan! Something is actually happening!! (I like to think that multiple exclamation marks were used uncompromisingly in all such absurd screenplays.)

It was all just a bunch of paper work and talk until this morning, when I picked up my bags and kindly boarded an airplane bound for Philadelphia, PA. I spend a few more days here before hopping the not-so-proverbial pond for Frankfurt and, ultimately, Chisinau, Moldova. I've said my good-byes, despite their myriad shortcomings (on my own end, I must say). I felt the strain of too much weight as my luggage cut unyieldingly into my shoulders and tortured my arms. Somehow, I inadvertently managed to procure an upgrade to First-Class on US Airways -- hopefully gratuit, though only time will tell. I even successfully lost and found an important document on the way to my hotel, where I now rest in uncharacteristic comfort, thinking little more than: Oh crap! What am I getting in to?

As the great, fictional Max Cohen frequently said: 8:45, restate my assumptions. Apparently, I have joined the Peace Corps, and I am now on my way to the Republic of Moldova. This is a small country, approximately the geographic size of the state of Maryland, with a total population around 4.4 million, the vast majority of which reside in a handful of cities. The capital, Chisinau (Key-sh-new), is by far the largest of these cities, at a whopping 600,000 residents. The country is land-locked (thanks to the Ukraine), has an elevation range of 2-400 meters (about 3000 meters short of the elevation range with which I am familiar), is former soviet-bloc, and is relatively rural (think "quiet" and "perfect star-gazing"). The economy is based primarily on agriculture and has never industrialized, due to the complete lack of mineral resources or a port. As far as I am concerned, the most important result of this non-industrialization is the sustenance of Moldova's primary export: wine.

I'll be teaching English to high-school kids, most likely in a village smaller than I can honestly comprehend, right now. I have never taught, to date, but I look forward to the opportunity. Honestly, I can't begin to comprehend the experience. Any of it. But let me tell you: I'm looking forward to all of it.

These next few days are the last I'll see of my androgynous homeland ("motherland" or "fatherland"? Neither seems to work, really) for over two years. Instead, I look forward to new languages, new passions, and new memories. I'll try to put a little of each of these into this blog, and I hope to hear from those of you who read it.