I came across this song recently, and the lyrics just so perfectly capture how I think many of us as Peace Corps Volunteers view our time in Moldova. 
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We will call this place our home,
the dirt in which our roots may grow
Let the years we're here be kind, be kind
Let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide
Settle our bones like wood over time, over time
Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine
Smaller than dust on the map
lies the greatest thing we have
The dirt in which our roots may grow,
and the right to call it home
the dirt in which our roots may grow
Let the years we're here be kind, be kind
Let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide
Settle our bones like wood over time, over time
Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine
Smaller than dust on the map
lies the greatest thing we have
The dirt in which our roots may grow,
and the right to call it home
- "North" by Sleeping At Last
Bread and salt offered by Peace Corps Moldova staff to welcome M32s to the country.
Wine tasting at Milești Mici winery.
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