KINDERLAND

In a semi-abandoned Moldovan village, a 12-year-old girl must take care of her two younger brothers.

“Every village in Moldova is a village of children, the entire country,” confides Cristina Dumitrache, who's been left in charge of her brothers, 6-year-old Dan and the even-younger Marcel, while her mother is working in Italy and her father in Russia. Apparently a large proportion of the adult population has gone to work abroad, leaving houses empty, crops unplanted, and children without parents. Cristina’s mother phones and sends money for food, and the siblings have some relatives nearby, but essentially they live alone and unsupervised in a rural village alongside chickens, dogs, cats, and a pig. Cristina is expected to tend to the entire household, cleaning, washing, sweeping, feeding, while inevitably neglecting her own schoolwork. Moldova-born author Corobca depicts a national phenomenon through the specific experiences of this one small family, her anecdotal narrative sketching a larger picture of a community hollowed out by financial pressures. The village is a place of casual cruelty, the children purposely destroying nice things owned by their peers and causing animals to suffer, the remaining adults beating and abusing each other. Violence abounds, as do hunger and theft, but there’s also friendship, play, and the sharing of resources. Meanwhile, “scrappy” Cristina is beginning to experience sexual stirrings and flickers of empathetic adulthood while doing her best to protect the boys. This short, uneven work traces the children’s troubles and struggles while hinting at the psychological effects of their situation: Marcel, for example, has created a puppet version of his father out of old clothes. Episodes can be grim, yet Corobca infuses a peculiar buoyancy, too, with Cristina’s perspective giving glimpses of flora, fauna, ritual, and happiness.

A disturbing portrait of social chaos leavened with charm and hope.