My greatest fear about my first few weeks at site was that I would be lonely and bored. This all seems silly now as my greatest problem, if you can even call it that, is that I have barely been able to find a minute to myself. My new neighbors have kept my busy with lots of swimming, card playing, and best of all, cultural activities.

Last Sunday was Sapunta Maria, a Christian Orthodox holiday celebrating The Virgin Mary. I went to a nearby monastery with one of my future 10th grade students. We tagged along with the procession of one of the neighboring towns, since her dad was chauffeuring them in his bus. At 1:00 on Saturday, we boarded the bus dressed in my town’s traditional white shirt and skirt, both embellished with delicate hand embroidery. The others on the bus had a similar shirt, but their skirts were green and had a flowered pattern, as every town has their own costume.

The bus ride there was filled with song. I became so familiar with these songs over the 24 hours that I now can’t seem to get them out of my head. The singing was put on pause when the bus stopped. We unloaded, with all of our stuff and made a trek up the hill to the Monastery. Once the Monastery was in sight we lined up with the smaller children in front carrying banners and a picture of The Virgin, followed by me and my friend Anuta, on either side of the priest, followed then by the others, who carried large images of Mary which hung on sticks. We joined a number of other groups who were circling the monastery singing songs that I at the time hardly understood. When we finished the rounds we went over to the large open-air area where we would be sleeping. We searched for a open area on the wood chips where our group could fit our blankets in amongst the hundreds of other people who had already claimed their real-estate.

When hunger stuck we made a trip down to the town, where a carnival type scene had emerged. We ate some mici and headed back up for our second tour of the church, this time I had become familiar enough with the songs, so I was able to contribute, rather than lip-sync, like I had the first time.

That night I actually slept pretty well, which is impressive considering that there were sermons and singing most of the night. I may have been one of the few. When I asked one of the 60ish year old women, the following morning, how she slept and she said she didn’t I felt a little bit wimpy. But I had no time to nurse my bruised ego, as I had to get dressed up for our last procession around the church. Afterwards we went down the hill to get coffee. Everybody insisted that I stay dressed up which scared me considering coffee is black, my borrowed costume was white, and my reputation for being a little on the clumsy side. Some how I managed to make it back up the hill, stain free, just in time for the final sermon.

My wondering why we remained in traditional dress for our trek down the hill back to the bus, was put to rest when we finally stopped outside of the town lined up for the final mile or so trek to the church in the center of the town that the procession was from. I guess it was our way of brining the trip full circle; a pilgrimage of sorts. According to some, people used to, and do now, only less frequently, make the trek to the monastery on foot. I can’t see how anyone would be able to do that in the heat that we have been experiencing, with no sleep. I could barely hack armed with both sleep and the assistance of a bus. I guess this just goes to show the power of faith. Anyways, finally, 28 hours after we had left I made it back to my bed, both tired and cultured, thankful to already be experiencing so much culture so soon into my stay at site.