I Met A Boy and I Have Packages

I had to wake up this morning at 3.20. That's right, 3.20 A.M. The train in my village leaves at 4.30 for Chisinau. I had a meeting at 10.30 and so the train was my only option of transportation. I could have taken a rutiera, but with inches of snow and ice covering the roads, it isn't such a safe option. So I got to the train station at 3.55 expecting the train to arrive at 4.10. I wait and wait and wait, but luckily a boy (20 years old) approaches me and asks me for the time. We start talking and discussing things, as much as he can in his moldovan language and as much as I can in my Romanian. He asked me if I knew Moldovan and I said "yes, I know Romanian." But he claimed that Moldovan is different than Romanian. I asked him how the two languages were different and he just shuffled his feet and tried to sputter some response.
The different between Romanian and Moldovan language as a fellow volunteer expressed is "in Moldovan you can throw in Russian words whenever you want." How true that is.
So finally the train arrived at 4.30. I don't know whether it was slow because of the weather conditions or that the train has a new schedule. Regardless, we got on the train and the boy, Victor, sat across from me. Pretty soon after, he asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. I need to start making friends in my village, or with people close to my village. He happens to live in the neighboring village. He got off of the train at an earlier stop and my travels took me further to Chisinau.
I got packages! That's right, two of them! One of them was from my parents and filled with yarn, crocheting needles, shirts, cds, and my old favorite flip flops. The other was from my Great Aunt and had hot cocoa, a chocolate bar, toe socks, and BUCKEYES...my favorite holiday treat. I had to walk about a mile to get from the train station to the Peace Corps Office. It was about 10 degrees outside, but I had multiple layers and was moderately warm.
Upon asking for my packages, the guy searched for them, and at last they were mine. When he handed them to me he said "just smile, be happy." I laughed a little at the comment and didn't quite understand what he meant by that. When I got to the bathroom I realized why he had said that. The mascara that I applied before leaving the house was all underneath my eyes. My eyes teared up in the cold weather causing my mascara to run. He thought I had been crying. So I had been walking around Chisinau looking like either a homeless prostitute or a bawling baffoon. Oh well, I got a good laugh out of it.
After my meeting today I am heading straight back to my village. I can't wait to see my bed and dive into its warm blankets.