When I was on the plane to arrive in Chisinau, I met a man who told me that fifteen days in Moldova I would have been enough to understand what was this country, especially out of town and going to the villages. I do not know yet what I understand, what does not and what will remain pending because, like all similar experiences, I need time to process. One thing I get it .. despite all the experiences that we can make contact with the poverty, suffering, with a different world we would never be able to understand what leads a man to abandon everything and take risks because we will always a choice and we know we always have a secure base to go back, our country. As for the rest feel that he had met another world, in the sense of the word pregnant. This is felt when you arrive in the villages from the air you breathe, smell the earth, the souls you meet through the intersections of looks.
Encounters with others. Well what about this, sometimes the words are limited (or perhaps my own) is not possible to express the immensity of which can lock the meeting, even if for a moment. In this encounter with the other is the encounter with those who welcomed us with open arms, even if not physically everywhere we went with the children, the elderly or the streets of the village struggle to find someone who will reject . Of course we were the news of the moment, but what about reception when we offered what they had, a nice piece of cheese and a glass of wine (and if you were not careful, they became two or three or even four, and let's stop here).
Meetings with eyes that smile or sometimes with eyes that were awaiting chissache, possibly death. I still remember clearly the feeling I felt when, during the first week Ucrainka, I went to social activities at the home of an elderly woman ... I still imprinted in the eyes of the state of abandonment quell'abitazione and that woman and nostrils the smell that filled those rooms, the flies. I remember one day imagined any of that old one and totally disillusioned, I remember sitting on the doorstep waiting for something, maybe death. On the other hand, however, remember the woman who went to visit when we were in Coscalia, grandmother Mina, and I remember the look alive, the smile and the perception that the house was alive.
And then what about meetings with fellow travelers .. and here the words struggling to come to mind .. sometimes I cry inside myself for the memories that bind me to each of them, in their eyes, their smiles. But my tears can not be sad, regretful, but tears of happiness because I know deep inside myself that I was lucky enough to have crossed other souls and say .. in the end the money, the houses, but objects that remain are the meetings ... and sometimes you take a whole life looking for this kind of meeting ... thank you.
And 'maybe that's what I'm sure he had brought home from this country: the meetings.
Elisa
Shipyard Solidarity - R. Moldova
"Facem a circle" - Let's make a circle
A moment of activities with the children of Coscalia
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