By Kelly Simonsen | Instagram

Keep Your Eyes Open

“Cause if you never leave home, never let go
You’ll never make it to the great unknown till you
Keep your eyes open, my love” – NEEDTOBREATHE

The maxi taxi rolls to a stop at this dilapidated bus station
and I am more than ready to leave its sweltering interior.
After riding for ten hours with the windows firmly shut
my lungs beg for fresh air.

Our first smell in this new place
is the customary Eastern European cigarette smoke,
lingering on clothing,
swirling through the air,
orienting us to this unfamiliar world.

A group of gangly teenage boys stare at us,
the four obviously American girls
with their gigantic bags of luggage
and casual, foreign attire.

Our first order of business is locating a bathroom.
Between paying for our pink square of toilet paper
and experiencing the glory of the squatty potty
our bathroom expedition is a prime example
of full-immersion baptism into the culture.

Our guide leads us inside the ramshackle station
and I notice a massive mural on the wall.
He says it’s a remnant of Soviet propaganda,
and my history-loving brain is intrigued by
the mosaic of geometric shapes
delineating the communist view of society.

The interior of the station makes me feel uneasy
but the warmth of our hosts eases my feelings of trepidation.
They greet us with huge smiles and Moldovan chocolate,
giving us an opportunity to practice saying mulțumesc
and accept their radical hospitality.

And Your Easter Napkins Close At Hand

We transition from the station to the home of Magda,
our feisty Romanian host,
who moved to Moldova in pursuit of her calling
to work with marginalized youth.

The entrance to the house is charming
with a canopy of vines,
a freestanding porch swing,
and some scattered toys belonging to the neighbors’ kid.

On our first night,
and in every moment that follows,
Magda is overwhelmingly welcoming!

But I am so nervous.

It’s my second time overseas,
and my first time experiencing a homestay.
Nineteen-year-old me doesn’t know how to relax and be
in a space so radically unfamiliar.

Magda makes spaghetti for us
(to this day the best I’ve ever tasted)
and as we sit down to eat, she passes out napkins bearing the phrase
“Paște Fericit!”

She looks at us
and slyly,
in a manner we would soon recognize as Magda’s humor peeking through,
remarks, “it means
Welcome Girls!”

Our Romanian-speaking American friend bursts out laughing,
explaining that the napkins were leftovers
from the Easter celebration of six weeks prior
and as such, fittingly say,
“Happy Easter!”

The laughter cuts through my anxiety,
and here I sit, four years later,
remembering.

I spent one week with Magda which,
in the scope of meaningful human interaction,
is a mere blip on the radar.

And yet, her kindness,
and spunk,
and gracious welcome of a scared American college student remains with me
and inspires me to go and do likewise.

Maybe I’ll never again see that Chinese international student
who I picked up from the airport and settled into her dorm room.

But maybe,
someday,
years down the road
she’ll write a poem about my welcome.

Or even better,
she’ll invite the visiting scholar from Rwanda
to sit at her dinner table.

Because hospitality is a give-and-receive dance,
transcending our natural boundary lines
with laughter and food and the recognition
that maybe the best thing we could possibly say
in this age of discord is
“Come on in!”

About Kelly:

Kelly Simonsen is a cross-cultural friendship builder, INFJ/Enneagram 4, lover of people, music connoisseur, creative cook, wordsmith, and world traveler with roots in the Pacific Northwest who is learning to live well with chronic pain and exploring how her passions and visions can become realities in her life. However, at the heart of it all, she’s a woman who is learning that the core of her identity is the beloved of God, and that is enough. She writes at learningtoloveagainblog.wordpress.com, and can be found on social media on Instagram @kellysimonsen and on Twitter @kel_michelle_ .

***