Moldovan Trust

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Hello, All -- Wendy here. Adrienne and I are here at the Internet place again, and have a few things to say regarding our last couple of days.

Today found me conducting another business transaction -- this time buying camera memory. In my younger days, I have always done my best to learn the native language and use it as much as I can. I don't know what's happened, but now I prefer to talk in English and gestures, and I find this works just as well and is much easier. I won't describe all the times this has worked for me, but it's astonishing how two dissimilar languages can be understood when you put the right gestures together. Anyway, I whipped out my credit card to pay for the camera memory, when I understood that the cashier is new and doesn't know how to conduct a credit card transaction.

So, the assistant handed me my camera, which already had the new memory in it, and showed me the location of the nearest ATM machine -- two doors down on this busy street. So, I walked there, used the ATM (and was astonished at how easy that was), and walked back to the store to pay for the camera memory. Now he did stand outside the store using the cell phone, but was clearly more engrossed in his conversation than in tracking me.

Another instance of Moldovan trust we observed was in the bathroom at McDonald's. You already know that we are big fans of their bathrooms, though not of the food. We entered the bathroom yesterday to find a white purse hanging from the outside door knob of one of the stalls. Thinking this belonged to the woman who was washing her hands, I didn't think much of this. However, this woman left the restroom without the purse, and I could only conclude that it belonged to the female inside the stall. Feet are not visible in stalls, as the stall doors go all the way down to the floor. In a moment, the door opened, the woman took her purse, washed her hands, and exited.

Now that is trust.

Adrienne and I are learning what it's like to be rock stars ... yesterday we were departing the orphanage after playing with the Downs babies, and went outside where many children we know were playing. Two swarms of screaming kids formed around us, and soon my group turned into a dogpile of boys and girls, all demanding to be lifted, held, or hugged. One of the boys on the periphery was one whose name I didn't know and had never seen before. I watched as he slowly angled in and eventually found a spot on the part of my lap (I can get 3-4 kids on my lap) closest to my body, where he would never be shoved off. I later learned his name is Vendrika.

I know Adrienne is blogging about our having seen our Monday robot-like group again yesterday -- so I'll let you read her blog about that.

Cheers and love, and keep those messages coming.

Wendy

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