Getting There

Last week my tomatoes finally began to ripen and this week I had a tiny harvest on my balcony.  I also finally was able to start teaching in school.  This year I have three 10th grade classes, three 11th grade classes and three 12th grade classes.  All the 10th grade classes and one of the 11th grade classes are new.  It feels funny to finally be starting school in October, but as we say here, "asta e."  The expression ends up translating figuratively to something like, this is life.

Last weekend I went over to Bacau to have a birthday party for a couple of fellow PCVs.  The maxi-taxi ride there takes about an hour and fifteen minutes.  Along the ride I saw lots of fields on fire as people burned up what was left of their corn crops.  We also picked up a lot of people on the road who were coming back from working on their property in the country laden with nuts and produce.  Many people who live in the cities have family property in the country that they work.  As grandparents age in the country, parents from the city move in and inherit the property.  They then give their apartments, which they bought after communism ended, to their children.

As I rode, I thought of how my concept of time in Romania has become so different.  An hour and fifteen minutes each way seems like nothing at all.  I catch up on pod-casts and let my mind wander.  I worry less about those minutes of where I am not productive.  I worry more about my future, about the future of my students, about the economy, about unemployment, and about what I will teach tomorrow.  It seems easier to try to just focus on the scenes in front of me, about the burning fields and people returning from them.