After today’s classes — the last of the year — there was another ceremony with student skits at the school. This time, each skit would be followed by a few songs for dancing. In between the music and the skits, the same kid who always emcees these things would mumble into the microphone for a few minutes, and I would stand around awkwardly until one of my girls would ask me to take a picture with them.
Some of the music was for disco-club style dancing, and some music was for the traditional dance of Moldova, the hora (strangely, some of the techno was also for doing the hora). During most of the techno bits I would either try to look busy with my phone or leave the gym, but once, before I could escape, a group of 11th grade girls I don’t even teach grabbed me and made me dance with them. They were all wearing tight black outfits, light-up devil horns, and a tail. The rowdiest one looked like how I imagine Sarah Palin looked at seventeen — she was even wearing the glasses (glasses on anyone not elderly are rare here). I told them I was too old to be dancing like that, and they grabbed my wrists and moved my arms for me, like I was some sort of American puppet.
I was also drawn in to two horas: one traditional, and the other was a techno-hora. In my experience Moldovans act impressed when they see I can dance the hora, like it’s really important that it be done correctly, but then whenever they do it — especially in a big group — it’s sloppy. A hora is almost always done in a circle, although sometimes there are two concentric circles, or occasionally couples dance frenetically at the middle of the circle. You can see the little 11th grade devils hora on by below, along with Mos Craciun (Santa Claus):
The skits are tedious, whether you understand what’s happening or not (sometimes I understand; most of the time I don’t). The one that follows is no exception to the tedium, though I’ve chosen to show you the most exciting part of this particular skit:
In general, Domnul Eugen — my Romanian tutor who, if you’ll remember, gave me dating advice by the school well — wishes everyone a happy 2010. I don’t know why he is dressed like he is, but there is obviously some point to it, because he had to change out of his Mos Craciun outfit (as seen in the first video) to put this one on. If you weren’t aware, 2010 will be the year of the tiger, which explains why little Iulia from my tenth grade class is crawling around on the ground wearing animal ears.
This will likely be my last dispatch to you of 2009, as tomorrow I leave for Transylvania. I’m sure that I will have plenty of pictures and stories upon my return, and so until then, Happy New Year to you all. Or, as we say in Moldova, “La Multi Ani!”