Gaina de Gard

The other day I was coming home and I saw a neighbor painting her fence. I don’t know if it was because I had a hard day with the language and wanted to do something I was proficient at or because the neighbor woman down the street always says hi and smiles…but I changed clothes, marched over there and after asking her how to say the verb “to paint;” /and I told her I would like to take over from here. After I persisted, she handed over the brush and bucket and went and got another brush and we painted the fence together in record time. I had to rush home and eat but she insisted on giving me something. I refused but she insisted. So I waited and before I could blink she placed in my hands a full grown chicken. Now I have never in all my life held a chicken but I’m glad to know that they go real passive in your hands.
Though most Moldovan families raise chickens, my host mother no longer does. So holding the chicken, after I recovered from the shock , the question occurred to me, what am I going to do with this chicken? But as Jess later said, how do you a refuse a chicken?" I wish you could've seen Jess' face as I entered our gate with a chicken in my hands.
So we had a chicken in our shed for a few days and…well for the sake of the kids that is where this story has to end. Let’s just say I’ll never eat chicken the same after this weekend.