Fifth Journey Day 61: Lozenge in Transit
Date: July 8, 2025
Location: Chișinău, Moldova
Today felt slow, but not because I was tired. It was the kind of slow pace that helps things settle without needing to be fixed. I arrived in Chișinău just after 12 p.m. The bus was warm but not too hot. My seatmate offered me a cherry lozenge without saying anything. I accepted, happy to share the simple act of kindness.
After dropping my bag at the guesthouse, which had yellow curtains, low ceilings, and an old fridge humming faintly, I wandered toward the center without any real map in mind. The buildings along Ștefan cel Mare reminded me of Soviet weight, but the summer weather made it feel less intense. The buildings have pale walls that have been worn down by the weather over many years.
I found a secondhand bookshop next to a cafe. The bookshop was filled with books that were leaning against each other, like old relatives. I stayed for almost two hours, looking through Moldovan textbooks, old Romanian poetry, and Cyrillic instruction manuals with diagrams that looked like stage directions. I didn't need to understand the words — the paper's tone, the smell of dust and ink, the scuffed corners — they spoke in their own way. One book had a sunflower pressed flat between pages. The color of the sunflower had faded to a soft orange. I left it there.
Later, I sat on a bench under a linden tree and drew the bookstore's entrance from memory. It wasn't the exact lines, but the feeling — the slight dip in the pavement, the cool shadow in the doorway, the plastic bead curtain swaying with each step.
There's a strange kind of calm here — a mix of slowness and composure. It suits me today. I didn't feel like I had to chase anything. I've been paying more attention to how people walk, how pigeons hesitate, and how light folds across glass.
Sometimes, a quiet day makes me feel more relaxed than a busy one.
