O nunta moldovaneasca

There are a few milestones in every Peace Corps Moldova volunteer's service: the first time walking home in the dark for more than 15 minutes without needing a flashlight, the first time getting giardia and the first time going to a Moldovan wedding.

I finally had my first Moldovan wedding experience last weekend. Not all volunteers like going to Moldovan weddings, and the naysayers usually complain because they don't know enough people at the wedding. While I didn't know the bride or the groom at this wedding, I knew about a quarter of the guests, two of the musicians and a handful of the young uninvited folks who were drinking outside the wedding.

I had a great time dancing with neighbors, students, host family members and a good-looking blonde from the next town over. I also got pulled into singing with the band; the only Moldovan song I know the lyrics to, however, is about a man leaving his lover for two years to join the army, and I refused to sing that at a wedding; instead, I accompanied them on the chorus for a happier and more romantic song, Pentru Tine.

I talked for about 20 minutes outside the wedding with a man in his 50s. When his wife and his sister came up and joined us, they asked me where I was staying in the village. When I told them my host family's last name, the sister cried out, "Miter! My love from 10th grade!" It turns out that my host father, quite the ladies' man before he settled down with Maria, had dated this woman for a short while. I went back into the school, where the wedding was, and pulled Dumitru outside. When he saw his former girlfriend of almost 40 years ago, he started telling one of his favorite stories, and one that I have probably heard 10 times now during my stay at his house.

Before he joined the army, Dumitru had a bicycle with a gasoline motor. Because he didn't want fathers to know that he was visiting their daughters, he would detach the muffler when he was a kilometer from the house and rev the engine. A girl, hearing what Dumitru claims was "as loud as a tractor," would know to sneak outside her gate a few minutes later. They would have as long of a date as they could manage outside the gate before the girl's father would start wondering where she had gone. When the father came outside, Dumitru would get on the bike as fast as possible and get away.

Not much later after reminiscing with Dumitru's old girlfriend, Dumitru and Maria left. Diana, my host sister, and I stayed so that we could give a small monetary wedding present. Everyone sat down again at the tables at 4 a.m. to make short speeches and to give money. I was dead tired, and I was "resting my eyes" at regular intervals. At 4:30 a.m., when the gift plate finally came to us, I roused myself from my involuntary nap and gave 15 Euros while Diana did the talking. Fifteen Euros isn't a bad amount to give to a couple whom I had never met before the wedding.

Within a minute of giving our gift, Diana and I left, gathered our things and walked home, no flashlight necessary. It was a night of fun, and I'm glad that I waited so long to experience a Moldovan wedding; it definitely lived up to the expectations.