All along I have said I was going to Moldova. That’s what my stuff said. Once we got here we loaded into a bus and traveled 2 1/2 hours to a city called Tiraspol located in a place called Transnistria. Transnistrians don’t like Moldovans and don’t consider themselves to be part of Moldova. Rather they consider themselves a separate entity.
So goodbye to the people of this area, whether they are uniformed Russian soldiers, street people, young and beautiful Russian girls, old and wizened women who have seen a lifetime worth of suffering in 40 years, and innocent children who have not much hope for the future.
I will leave for the first leg of my trip home in about an hour. So I have a bus ride, three planes and a car from Pittsburgh to my house in the next 24 hours or so.
I will miss the people, especially the children. I will not miss the food, bathrooms or the spirit of hopelessness.
I thank God for continuing to remind me of how thoroughly blessed I am.
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