My host parents came home today, I talked for a few minutes with my host mom about what I did all day (went for a walk and washed some clothes-- not a wildly exciting conversation) and then she told me she and my host dad would be outside in the garden. I sat in my room for about five minutes bored after that before I started wondering what they were up to and whether there'd be a job for me in it.
Turns out, there was!
They were cleaning sweet peppers and boiling them in what can only possibly be referred to as a cauldron over a big ol' cornstalk fire in the corner of the garden. They get the stalks from the neighbor's field for free, so they're clearly a better value than the way-too-expensive natural gas (courtesy of Russia) that the stove uses. As an added bonus, the fire looked, smelled, and felt just perfect on a cool autumny evening. I loved it.
I sat on a little stoll wiping dirt off the peppers as my host mother cut off the stems and my host father stirred them in the cauldron of oil and water, then we fished out a little pile of them from the boiling water, peeled them with our hands. (I'm not nearly as tough as a Moldovan lady; I can tell you that for sure-- ouch.) We fed the skins to the dog who lives in the garden (and he was hungry enough to eat them... ew), and went inside where I helped her make them into sauce for dinner, talking all the while about what my university was like, what my family's like-- things I couldn't get wrong. I'd go so far as to say the conversation was easy, even.
After dinner, we went out to finish the last couple batches of peppers, now with my 8-year-old host brother (who had been at soccer earlier) helping out. He mostly played in the fire, and I'm still certain someone needed to be doing that job. It's a good thing he was there. I'm not so sure I'd have gotten away with trying to do it.
After a while of this, my host mother was taking a phone call while my host dad was stirring away, so I just watched my host brother horse around in the garden pretending that the sticks sticking out of the dirt were the controls in... well... something. I guessed a car and he said no, but that's about where my creativity comes to a halt in Romanian non-public means of transit. Anyhow, his dad finally shushed him because his mom could hardly hear the person on the other end of the phone, so he lost interest and whispered to me something that sounded like "psspspsspspss tumshejury pssspsps?" and I gave him my dumb American face (it's like a scrunched eyebrows, head cocked variant of the classic puppy dog face, and I do it so well) and he asked "Vrei sa privesti?" which means "Want to watch?"
Well, it was clear he wasn't going to clarify for me, so I figured that watching whatever this was would be the easiest. I followed him in the house and he offered me his two Tom and Jerry ("Tom si Jerry") DVDs to choose between. The title on the case was in Romanian, but beyond that, these were exactly the same Tom and Jerry cartoons I've known for as long as I can remember. There's not much talking, and when there is, it's in English. I did a little bit of translating, which my host brother thought was very cool, because he'd only guessed what they were saying before tonight, but mostly, the two of us and the cat just chilled out and laughed.
It felt really good.
I didn't need the least bit of any skill that I don't already have to sit back and laugh at goofy cartoons. I occasionally forget here that there are indeed still things I can do with no effort at all, especially when it comes to things that involve more people than just me.
Tonight was a pleasant reminder. :-)
Celebrate little victories, Cassie. The big ones are entirely too rare.
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