Horsing Around Moldova

He picked us up directly from the bus station driving a white Lada matchbox that he referred to as his “Russian Jeep.” He hesitated, first, in front of the автостанция entrance, then hummed up, presumably when he noticed the lime green hiker’s pack. He offered a serious smile when we got in the car, then stoicism. I joked about the little red-and-black flag above the air conditioning unit: “Batman?” No, he replied; the bat silhouette was the symbol of his army unit.

RanchSign

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Leadership, Evolved

It’s common here for Moldovan teachers to hold themselves high above their students.

A thoughtful Moldovan spoke to me, once, about how education practices in his country are like the bureaucratic tactics of Soviet times: ruled by distance, leaders are told to keep things calm, make their people happy, and they’d be instructed on how to do the rest. Don’t ask questions.

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Questioning

My head is splitting, and it’s not an ache. I’d love to reduce it to anxiety.

The questioning: we’re talking paths, perspectives, without the Universal GPS.

What I’ve begun to understand is that when I question something, I’m questioning a belief: sometimes the ethics, sometimes the usefulness of that belief. It’s hard for me, now, to think in terms of “correctness” or “rightness”: it’s a belief…

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