Thank you for the gift of being a guest in such a place
N 46°43'59.9'' E 029°27'37.1''Although we’ve been here for days, we’re still feeling tired. Immediately after breakfast, we fall back into a deep sleep for a few hours. I meet Sister Domnina around midday. Because many people visit the monastery at the weekend, I’d better take down the tent. Domnina doesn’t make it clear that our possessions are at risk, but I understand and break down the camp by the lake to get everything into the rooms for good.
As I wander around the monastery grounds, I am repeatedly approached by sisters, nuns and workers. Entertainment is difficult without a dominatrix. Many speak Russian, but many also speak Moldovan. As we hardly understand either language, we get quite confused this way. One of the workers speaks a little German. He got his knowledge from a German book. At the right moment he adjusts me and tries out what and how much I understand. After an hour, I stretch my wings and try to say goodbye, but he stays on my heels a little longer. Then I manage to get away from him and sit down on the bench by the lake. I want to meditate a little, enjoy the peace, the wind and the birdsong. “Hello! What is your name?”, a young voice suddenly startles me. Three girls are standing behind me, giggling. One of them speaks some English. I break off my meditation and entertain the students for a while. They came here during the vacations to help in the monastery. Their parents like to send them to such a place because they are sure that their children are in good hands. Then I go to Tanja’s room. My tiredness demands to be cured.
In the afternoon, we return to the world of monastic life. The sun is blazing down from the sky as ever. The heat has not yet subsided. We stroll through the nunnery. It’s busy at all hours. Cars and tractors are repaired at the depot. Some women are sitting in the shade of a tree, peeling potatoes for dinner. The nun of Christ is looking after the peacocks and their deer. Another team of nuns and sisters are waking up grapes. They light a fire under a large tin pan to bring the water inside to the boil. At the same time, grapes are washed and placed in the right quantity in a glass jar with a capacity of around three liters. Add water and sugar. The whole thing is then sealed airtight and brought to the boil in the large tin pan. Clouds of smoke drift across the yard. The soft evening sunlight refracts in it. Singing can be heard from the kitchen. Helpers and nuns sing during the mega wash-up. I would never have thought that you could enjoy such a job. That seems to be the case here. Everyone knows us by now. Everywhere we go, we are greeted with a friendly wave. Sometimes in Russian, sometimes in Moldovan and very rarely someone dares to say hello in English. The nuns and sisters are so nice to us that we can still hardly believe it. We often receive gifts. Just like that: music tapes from the monastery, pictures of saints, bookmarks, fresh raspberries, a melon, grapes, apples, a glass of juice, etc. We must not refuse. That would be an insult. We can also only offer our attention and love in return. We don’t carry anything else with us. But people are not only so loving towards us, they also show the same love to their neighbors. To be honest, we have never experienced such an abundance of love and generosity on our travels. In no country, in no community. It is probably the concentrated combination of Moldavian hospitality and divine, monastic love. How can such a thing even exist? In a world like today. In a world where it’s often about who drives the biggest car, owns the nicest house, has the best job, career, fantastic vacations and so on. At this very moment, at this very second in which I am formulating my thoughts here, there is a knock at the door. “Yes? Come in,” I say and get up from my folding chair. A nun enters the room, looks at me kindly and hands me a plate piled high with about two kilograms of delicious, sweet grapes. “Oh my God. Thank you so much,” I say in surprise. The nun smiles at me and disappears without comment. Yes, that’s how we feel here. No idea how long something like this can last? I look at the table in front of me. There are two pears in a bowl with yesterday’s grapes still at the bottom. A large jug of freshly preserved grapes and juice also stands next to it. Red apples and a bowl of raspberries. We only left the dining room 20 minutes ago. There was vegetable soup, curd cheese, sour cream, a puree made from corn and other ingredients, fresh doughnut-like pastries and sweet tea. Is this paradise? What have I done to deserve this? There is no longer a description for this. Tanja and I have been thinking about it. About the why. The fact is that the people living here and Father Andrew treat us like this without expecting the slightest thing from us. Even repeated attempts to donate something to the monastery were rejected. “It’s not that we refuse donations. But we don’t want to accept any from you, please. You still have a long way to go. You need your money. Your will alone is seen by God and will be rewarded. For us, you belong to our monastery. From the very first moment, I had a close heart connection with you. I love you and am very, very happy that you like it so much here with us. I am glad that you are so humble and have settled in so well. You can stay as long as you like. Don’t worry about it. We’ll all miss you when you leave. All of us! Me, the nuns, the sisters and the workers. You have grown close to our hearts,” Father Andrew shames us…
As I said, we don’t know why something like this happens to us. Perhaps to tell the world that there is still hope of saving our planet. But hope for global peace. But hope for mutual love and respect. But hope for a fulfilled life that is not consumed by stress, hunger for power, ambition, envy, resentment and greed. Who knows? A traveler will experience a lot, see a lot. His feelings are sometimes battered, maltreated and betrayed, but much more often they are caressed, pampered, stroked and cared for. It’s nice to be out and about. It is a gift to be able to experience such things. It is a jewel to be able to find such a place. Thank you. Thank you to God, Mother Earth and all that is for your protection. Thank you for the tour. Thank you for the gift of being a guest in such a place.