By virtue of my Russian capabilities and my host sister’s English skills, I’ve had a few enlightening conversations about Moldovan culture as well as Moldovan citizens’ notions of America.
Life on my “small farm” is at times serene, at other times hurried, but observably varies by the season. Today I watched, for the first time, a mother hen hovering over her young. One chick had ducked under its mother’s breast, and from across the yard a quick […]
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