Moldova

Iurceni is a remote village nestled among the barren hills of central Moldova. It is inhabited by approximately 1,300 people but the calculation is very rough as there is a continuous migration. Along the bumpy and empty streets that wind around the small Greek Orthodox church, I come across completely abandoned houses, others are closed and crumbling, awaiting the return of their owners who left for Europe in search of work. Those who remain look after the small plots of land purchased with the remittances from family members employed abroad and, little by little, restore their houses starting from roofs or gates in order to be, in some way protected. Cristina and Maria, after almost twenty years of working as carers in Italy, have returned to Moldova. They love their small community, they are devoted to their church. They were both poor when they letf their country, with all the money they have saved, now they are and feel rich compared to other people who were unable to emigrate. They know the uncertainty of the political situation caused by the Russian invasion of Ukraine and the vulnerability of their land, the poorest in all of Europe. They fear the unimaginable but to my questions they reply that no, they don’t want to think about it, they want to stay and prefer to entrust their hopes to prayer. I spent some weeks with them. In the land that wants to become Europe but has not yet completely severed the thin thread that still unites it to the old Russia.