Two Dollars A Day

Photos and thoughts from the past and present and dreams about the future.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Language Issues

I don't think that I have ever emphasized here just how frigging difficult the Russian language is for English speakers.

There are cases that you have to memorize and figure out when to use.

I have a hard enough time with English grammar, let alone knowing when it's accusative, genative, locative, dative, or whatever other cases they decide to throw at us. And then they just introduced the perfective and imperfective tenses to us last week. At every turn I just feel like something else is given to us and those of us with no real background in Russian are left scratching our heads.

Our language instruction overall has been excellent, I can not fault them at all, it's just my own lack of picking up languages quickly or really even being motivated to work so hard to make it happen.

I always thought that if I went and lived in a foreign country where English was not readily spoken that I'd have to learn the language and that I would do it. Perhaps this is still possible in a country that has a lazy language, like English, but Russian. Oh. I can't even begin to tell you how little I feel like I have learned. I certainly understand a lot better than I used to, but in terms of what I'm able to say, I don't really feel that I've improved all that much from when I was in Saint Petersburg, which is woeful.

Our cluster is in a unique learning situation, having to accomodate people who have a vast experience of the language to those who learned nothing. It's interesting how our instructors have learned to adapt to us and work with us, making sure that we are each perhaps being challenged a bit, but it does never seem to work out for all of us at the same time. But that would also probably be impossible.

Maybe one of these days I'll wake up and speak Russian. I'd be satisfied if I just dreamt in Russian, or if I could understand exchanges at stores. Maybe one day it will come, but the key factor is wanting it to happen--and that is the hard thing to answer. Of course I want it to happen, working for it is something else.

And besides, Russian is a crazy hard language.

Finding Some Balances

When I came back from site I felt some real enthusiasm to get so many different things done. Now I have a hard time sitting down and making lesson plans for the pedagogical college.

I think that training has taken my cluster longer to get tired of when compared to others and I've also recently come to the belief that having a terrific cluster that gets along so well could also be a bad thing, simply because no one from my cluster is coming to my site with me. Swearing in just a little more than 3 weeks away and then I'll be heading back to M--- with my coordinator and all of my stuff, saying goodbye to my host family and my clustermates. It's a sad thought and I'm a bit worried that then I'll have to deal with a tough transition, not having someone to walk home with at night, sit outside and chat, go for a beer or a cup of tea, etc. Granted, there are other volunteers in my town, but these folks are not my clustermates.

When I think about what I'll be doing and the work that I'll have in front of me to do, I do get excited, which is a good thing. I really can't wait to settle in and especially, to get my own place, which will hopefully happen sometime around March. Then, and I feel only then, can I begin to think of Ukraine as my home. And I look forward to that.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Happy Thankgiving! K-- style!

So it was Thanksgiving, and of course, I didn't have the day off. I taught two sections at the Pedagogical College about New Zealand of all things. These are the third year students who really are not all the great at speaking English. One of these sections is all boys and they are evil. Imagine a bunch of uninterested 17-18 year olds who don't understand a damn thing you are saying and just think that they are too cool for school. Well, not all, just most. And yes, I hate them.

But the show must go on, right? Isn't that simply what teaching is anyway? Just one performance after another?

So, in order to talk some about my holiday, not the historic significance (because it would take too long and they wouldn't understand it anyway), I just tell them that Thanksgiving is a day off in the United States where schools are closed, banks are closed, post offices, and most businesses. That the day is to spend it relaxing with family and loved ones thinking about what you are thankful for.

I then asked the little punks to write 3 sentences beginning with the phrase: I am thankful for...

They had a very difficult time doing this, and I gave them some examples and had a few of the smarter ones share theirs with class. I got tons of the same ones as they had obviously circulated around the room, but my second class has one shining star that came up with some nice ones:

One was that he was thankful that Ms. Molly came to teach them English. Sweet, huh?
A second was that he was thankful for his mother that he was born. Aww.
The third: "I am thankful for the God that gave me the life." Now that is a keeper.

At least his were original. And I'm not saying that I could do any better in Russian, but after three years, I would hope that I could put together three sentences that I was thankful for.

Anyway, after that catastrophe was done I headed over to a clustermates house where Thanksgiving was being held. It turns out that she searched all over this town to find some cranberries, but was unsuccessful. Not to be outdone though she had bought cherries instead and cooked them in the same fashion. The couple purchased a big chicken to cook (they do have turkey but it's not as common and I hear terribly expensive). The fruit salad was mostly made, so I started in on the dressing. Slowly, more people arrived as the private lessons with the LCF ended.

Finally, after all the cooking, everything was ready and laid out on the table: two types of stuffing, mashed potatoes, fruit salad, chicken, and finally squash. It was very tasty and even more than that, it was simply relaxing. Our LCF and TCF attended, in addition to my clustermates host sister and brother. We ended up just sitting around, talking, sharing, laughing and again, had a great time. Probably one of the nicest times we've had together as a group. It reaffirmed my belief that our cluster (and link) is somewhat unique to the PC, where drama and strife seem to be the norm. I was very thankful to be a part of a group that so obviously cared about each other and felt comfortable to share such a meaningful day with each other.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

So, on the 19th, the day after my birthday, it snowed. Just enough to cover the ground and make it hard to walk around. I took a tumble on some of the smooth grantite that lines the streets on the way to the bus station to head off to technical training. Of course, one of my clustermates was with me and got a good chuckle out of it. So did I, actually.

Since then, I've broken out the winter coat and the winter boots, daring mother nature (or father frost) to make me feel cold. I'm often surprised at how nice and warm I do feel most of the time. That clustermate refers to my down winter coat as "puffy goodness," and it is quite that.

This morning I woke up and looked out the window and I saw that it was finally downpouring snow. Still not tons accumulated on the ground, but more than before. When I got myself ready to head out to the internet cafe before language lesson I noticed that it wasn't quite snowing, but sleeting/haling instead. Yuck. Even my puffy goodness could only keep me so dry. My jeans got soaked and I was thankful for the longjohns on underneath. They do help to keep me warm as well. And my Ug boots are awesome! They aren't the most attractive things in the world, but I feel so nice and warm *all the time* when I wear them.

I asked my technical trainer the other day, exactly how cold does it get here? -30, she responded (remember folks, we're Celsius). "That low," I said, "surely they cancel school then!" "Yes," she said, "but not when it's -28." Good to know. But hopefully it won't get quite that cold. But right now, it's pleasant and quite beautiful.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

My Birthday

I find myself always thinking that how my mood is during my birthday will affect how the year ahead will be. While you may think that this is inanely stupid, I've found it to be relatively true. So, yes, it's a superstition, but I take it seriously.

My host mother called me from work before I left to go to Russian lesson and made sure that I'd have a good day. A volunteer is leaving town soon, as she's finished up her two years, and she invited us over that night for dinner, so there were no real birthday plans for me, but it was okay.

Lessons started off and the next thing I know, my LCF was blindfolding me with my scarf and spinning me around. Then the class directed me around the room to find my present. After I found my present, there were a variety of tasks written in Russian on the packing material, such things as having to tell a funny story (in Russian, for me, proved to be impossible, but her the anecdote of when during training, I told our cluster couple that I had some cookies from my Aunt and Uncle and wanted to share them with them. When in the evening I went to their room and was invited in, only to find them naked and in bed. I was embarrassed to say the least, but they were jovial about the situation. Before I left my room, I told my other clustermate that I was going to the couples room, and she prompted followed me and was likewise surprised by what she found), and dancing. It was a great lesson. Actually, all of that lesson was a great day, we mostly tried to talk about site visits and the towns and universities we'd be teaching at, as well as talking about our host families.

However, it wasn't a great day for others, but it was okay, we went out and got some food and then bought more food to say goodbye to this volunteer that we had all come to really love and appreciate. She's actually on her way home today, if not there already, and it's weird to think that she's not in K--- anymore. She probably thinks so too, that is until she gets her first hot shower.

But that was a nice and laid back evening, sipping champagne and picking over the stuff the PCV didn't want to take back. I got a bunch of books and some knitting needles. A PCV in my site city asked me what hobby I wanted to learn while I was in Ukraine, because, I'd finally have time to learn it. "Knitting," was my response, and so I'm on my way.

I got back later than anticipated and just went right to bed. The next day we had a training in the small town and had to get up early. The training ended rather early for us, and so the link group invited us to watch a movie. They selected 'Blazing Saddles' because I had never seen it before. After that, 3 of my cluster ended up in the oblast center (the married couple was off at a support group meeting in Kyiv) and decided that since we had just met a current PCV in that city, we'd call him and see if he could tell us of a good restaurant, or come out and meet us. Sure enough all the PCV's in town (minus 1, I guess) were getting together that night and sure, he'd meet us. So it was a good evening and we left to get home at a decent hour.

When I arrived home, my host brother ran to me and brought out a Kyiv Tort, the most famous cakes in Ukraine. They had a few friends over and I ate some guhluptsi (sorry, the trans might be off, they are awfully tasty cabbage rolls stuffed with meat, onions, carrots, and rice), and gave me some presents. Yeah, I felt bad about coming home so late since they obviously had done some stuff up for me, but I didn't know.

So, all in all, it was a good birthday. A relaxing time. I look forward to the year ahead.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Where Is My Celebrity News?

I'm wondering where in the world is my entertainment correspondant. I saw rumors from an old cover of US Weekly that Nick and Jessica are getting divorced. Is there truth to this? Please, someone, let me know.

Home Again Home Again

As per my last day with my host family here in K--, I was worried about my reception upon coming back from M---. To my absolute delight, everything was fabulous. They were all happy to see me and invite me back happily. Sasha, never one to ask a lot of questions, was full of all sorts of questions. The most profound was apparently, "when are you going to get married?," which was translated for me. Remember, they are my age and have been married now for 9 years. I didn't really have any dates to tell him, just said that there are some cute volunteers out there, so you never know.

He then asked whether or not I'd change my last name. I told him that I wouldn't, simply because, in my best Russian, which is bad Russian, that my last name is my name alone--that only family have the unique spelling. I then asked what women were doing now in Ukraine. My host mother said that some women will keep their last name, if their husband's name is Cozal or something like that, which means 'goat' and is also an ethnic slur to make about Russians. We talked about other things and I finally busted out my lap top to show them some photos of home. I have had some safety issues prior about doing such a thing--not because of my family, but more because of how many folks are in and out of there at any given time. I'll be putting it away again soon, but I've just been lazy since coming home and wanting to settle back into K--- life.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Thanks for the Birthday Wishes

I want to thank all of you who sent an e-mail for my birthday! I was definitely looking forward to coming home and reading all your messages. It means a lot to me, especially considering how those of you have been neglected over the past month with yours--time truly does seem to slip away without me realizing it. I do have another round of letters to go out soon that are also already outdated, but hey, what can I say? I'd rather send them late than not send them at all!

Again, mucho thanks and sorry for all the current postings, but I just want to get caught up--I'm almost there!

Mailing Warning

I asked for gifts, and gifts I did receive. The day before my birthday when we were at the big training, I got a wonderful package from my Aunt and Uncle (THANK YOU!). I was able to share some cookies with some Americans who were as excited as me about them and still had enough to come home and share with my host family!

I also know that others have sent things and they have not been received. I don't know what the deal is. I have now heard though that PCHQ is notorious for not getting mail through or having things "disappear." As such, if you do have something, please hold onto it until after January where I can have it sent to my new host family in M-- or after I get a post office box in that town. It sucks, but I'd rather get your stuff and have you know that your stuff will be delivered than question whether or it arrived or if someone else is drinking your tea and enjoying that cd.

Letters seem to come okay though...

Training Events

After our visit to our sites, we headed back up to another training where we would talk more indepth about completing certain responsiblities our various sites demand of us. At first it was exciting to an extent, the possibility of reconnecting with folks that we haven't seen in awhile, hanging out with other people besides clustermates, and just being someplace different where you don't have to speak Russian or Ukrainian all day.

Unfortunately, everyone gets sick at this Soviet Sanatorium, and especially unfortunately this time around a group of us ended up encountering an unsavory character which caused for extreme amounts of drama and someone going in for backup. No one was hurt, and women were not even involved and there was no violence, but it was uncomfortable, unpleasant, and well, sucked, since some of us wanted to be like Spike Lee and "Do the Right Thing," which we felt was to report the problem to PC so that they could tell others about it, the next division of my entire group (29) being much younger, and more prone to alcohol and questionably violence.

After that, our toilet stopped working properly and smelled to high heaven. But the showers were hot.

Finally, on our last day they took to a Kyiv metro stop where we were supposed to lug all of our stuff back to the PCHQ, I went with an early group since I was supposed to get some more shots. (Honestly, that is what being in the PC is all about---getting various flu shots and hep shots and shots for shots.) On the way there, after we changed lines, the Metro was crowded and half of our group took one train, while the rest of us waited for another one. I got into the same car about about 4 or 5 other volunteers, but I was all the way in the back, where there was room. I looked over at one point on our travels, just one stop, and could see a PCT's blue hat and thought everything was okay. However, as I got off the train, I noticed the entire group hauling two trainee's out of the place and their luggage. An older PCT just exclaimed that she was pickpocketed and had her documents stolen. Apparently three men just cornered her in the crowd and pushed up against her and away from the nearest PCT. And yep, they took her stuff. She was okay though.

We went back to our headquarters and she met with our safety and sercurity dude, who by now I was getting a picture of exactly how busy he must work. He was able to retrieve her documents, but not the cash.

No one ever said that Ukraine was a safe place to live, or that America was, but it was totally in your face this past week for some of us, and I am tired.

When we all happily arrived back in our training town, I got a taxi with another PCT who lives in the same building as me. When we got home, I offered him the 5 gry, and he just said no, and left. It was great to be home.

City, Site, Etc.

My city is completely fabulous.

It has 5 movie theaters.

It has supermarkets.

It has stores, department stores, even regions of the city.

It has ethic food, including a bbq place, a Japanese restaurant, and decent pizza. Better than BG.

Several PCV's currently live in this city and when I meet up with the first one, he said, "What nobody realizes is that you are in the best PC city in the country." I could see what he meant. Not terribly far from places like Kyiv (an overnight train journey at less than $10) and close to Odessa without having to live there (word is that it's not a great place to live).

Besides the city, the site seems awesome too. Granted, no one is ever forthcoming with details in Ukraine, but my counterpart explained that I will be teaching culture of the USA, a homereading course where I have to come up with a list of books for them to read and also the books themselves, and a creative writing course. I'm excited about the challenge and just happy that it is not what was originally written on my sheet. They also have a bunch of projects that they'll want me to work on while I am, including a debate event, a conference of my choice, an English club, and a variety of other things. I'm up for the challenge, happy about the challenge, and just super happy that it all seems like exactly what I wanted. I can't wait to go back.

First Impressions

Many years ago, a volunteer sat in the back of the room. She had just moments earlier been introduced to her new boss. They were sitting in an informational meeting about the work they would be doing and the various rules and regulations. There were probably 40 or more people in this room.

This volunteer was tired. She and her other volunteers had been sitting through such riveting training topics as "service learning 101," "Higher Ed 101," and the infamous "Marker Training." Day dreaming about something not memorable, this volunteer leaned back in her chair. Way back. This volunteer ended up falling backwards to the floor causing such a commotion that the presenter all the way in the front of room asked if she was okay and if she could continue. This voulnteer was humilated.

As months moved into years the partnership between the volunteer took the original meeting almost as an omen of sorts. An odd and embarassing start to what became a highly productive, professional, and fun two years.

Some years later, before 6am, a volunteer steps off a train. She's excited. She's tired. She's carrying a heavy bag. She misses a step getting off the train and falls the rest of the way causing commotion and a flutter of hands. Embarrassed, she moved behind the sign two young men are carrying that reads "Peace Corps," hoping that they are mere drivers that will take her away to meet her new host family and counterpart.

From out of the shadows appears a very tall figure who peers down from behind spectacles and a knit hat and says, "You must be Molly." Crestfallen, the volunteer shakes her head and realizes that her new "partner' had witnessed the whole thing. She is hopeful that this too was an omen. Only time will tell.

What's Up with the Secrecy?

As per PC instruction, we are told to keep personal info minimal-our whereabouts, who we stay with, where we work, the towns we live in, etc. I try to follw this as best as I can, as I see how it makes sense. while I have attempted to make this site as private as possible nothing is ever really 'private' on the web. Consequently exact names and locations will not be mentioned. But I will tell you, you will want to visit. Probably in the spring or summer. Although it seems that I will be working like a dog.

Location, Location, Location

After announcements everyone adjourned for celebrations. Our cluster couple invited us up for wine. It was a relief to an extent. My roomate and I had gone back to our rooms to read about our prospective homes. Don't expect to find it in the Lonely Planet guide, which clearly believes that Southern Ukraine begins and ends with Odessa and focuses extensively on the West, Kyiv and Crimea. I turned to other guides. The additional one I brought spoke favorably of my southern city. Population of over 500,000. Shipbuilding major industry. Museums. A theater. Outdoor cafes. Trendy shopping area. Tree lined streets. A zoo. A big zoo. And the most magical word of all in Ukraine--my city has a McDonald's.

While having a glass of Moldovan wine with my clustermates, I read the couples Ukrainian travel guide. "The best thing about M--," it proclaimed, "is leaving it."

Soon I would see who I believed for myself.

Before Site Jitters

Friday before site announcement we were visited by our CD. To some of us he gave us glimpses of what our sites will be like. He told me a couple had gone before and been quite happy. He also said that they left fluent in Russian. I told him I awnted a place were the students spoke enough English so they could read books. He said that was "possible." Before our meeting ended I made mnetion of going out East to some coal mine. "Oh now I've said too much, " he said and declined further comments.

For days, no weeks, before finding out about my site, I takled endlessly about what I wanted, what I didn't want, and how scared I was about findnig out where I waas tgo be. I asked about the 'ceremony' -->were you told privately (which I advocated) or in a huge public forum where if you cry, everyone will see.

Public, obviously, was the PC plan.

I was told that they would tell you your name, and the name of the institution, and ask you to put your name on the corresponding town on a map of Ukraine. Oh, I could feel the tears already.

Of course they drew it out longer, showing us a movie they made of us at various airports, with all of us looking bedraggled and pissed off. Some faces were no longer a part of the group as cynical guffaws could be heard from around the room.

Finally we were seated and it would begin--Region by region. Ukraine is split up into 7 regions for the PC. I watched as they passed through Kyiv oblast and Zhytomerskaya oblast, where I currently live. Similarly, I sat and watched the Ukraine regions go by, knowing that with my Russian, there was no need to be nervous. I would not be called. I waited to be called when they moved through the east. And yet my name was not mentioned. Crimea came and went amongst a rowdy applause for the "lucky" few who can call that region home. And then there was only one more region left: Region 7. 4 of my 5 clustermates did not yet have a placement. I don't nkow how long I waited, I just know that I heard "and joining J* in M-- will be" and my name. I didn't hear if it was a Pedalogical College (what I had feared) or not, just went up, shook my regional manager's hand and took a seat. A clustermate sitting next to me said "It's a real university!' I humbly responded, whatever, we'll see won't we? and I read the job expectations and my heart sank.

Every damn interview I had with PC officials I told them that I wanted to teach subjects, not English. That my background warrented it and the English language was not my strength. All these pleas were countered with "even in context courses you'd have to teach English" and "sorry but you joined the PC to be a TEFL volunteer" and I'd alwasy counter with "well, in the VAD it says that you can also teach literature, history, culture, etc." Now there was nothing to do but wait and see.

A Grand Goodbye

Ah. The honeymoon has been over in my host family for some time now, and that is a good thing. I am no longer expected to eat tons and am welcome to do things like the dishes. I can stay out late and have them not worry, etc. etc. Simply put, we have developed a routine.

That Sunday before we left for our training and site announcement in some old time Soivet sanatorium my family decided to have a shashlik party out in the woods and wanted me to invte the other young American lasses too. Only 1 could make it, so we enjoyed the unusually fair and beautiful weather and ate some tasty food and hung out with Koom's and Kooma's. It was great.

After the party was over, my host mother and another kooma asekd us to go out for tea. the other American protested because she had her own family to go home to and say goodbye before o7ur trip. My host mother insisted, saying that we would go and get some tea and then be off to her parents so that she and I could get showers (this is a 1 a week treat that I never turn down). Surprisingly, for this "tea" they take us to the sketchy bar called "Texas" (yep, that's rgiht) and instead of tea we get fruit and chocolate and cognac that tastes like cough syrup. (Upon further investigation we find out that it is flavored with holly berries). Then a group of men come in who know my host mother (this is par thru the course, as the other 2 American women have grown to detest my family's 'connectedness' as it means that I am known in town and therefore by proxy, so are they --> drinks ensue and invitations to toher bars, clubs, and towns.)

So anyway, these men suggest putting our trables together and get anotyher bottle for us to share. Thankfully they bring over some tasty "zyitz" that this man, who my host mother has told me was her nanny, has killed and cooked. It was really tasty and hit the spot after every toast that ensued and "required" me to "drink to the bottom" which they indicated by a motion of their wrists upwards, like emptying a glass. One such toasts involved me having to stand and link arms with the Nanny drinking to the bottom, which was then followed by a kiss. I was quite surprised at that part-but tradtion is tradition, I suppose and later I made the other American do the same thing.

While in the beginning this appears to be a good time, I notice that my little host mom is drunk. Flat out. The kooma and I make various pleas to go, but occassionally the kooma would also make comments like "everything will be okay." At some point in time the other American is taken home so she can dine with her host family and I am left with a drunken mommy and her very elegant friend who is just as perplexed as me in regards to what to do.

Eventually the three of us leave, but do not go to the parents house for a shower. We go to some couples apartment where a certain member of our party rings the doorbell about 2 or 3 times and knocks impatiently on the door. It's now past 10:30pm and these are (from what I've been informed) social no-no's. We are allowed inside where someone falls off a chair and explains to me (in English) the relationship of the visit and who the people are. While I will not mention such info, needless to say it was all kinda crazy and stupid. And I was all but hopeless--> I had forgotten to take my key--I mean, here I thought we'd just have some tea and get a shower!

Finally the kooma takes me out of the apartment and outside. I tell her that I don't want to leave my host mother upstairs and she just tells me that I can shower at her place. (She speaks little English, I little Russian). I tell her, "R HE XACHO DOZHT CECHAC, R XACHO DOMA C MAR Mommy" (please keep in mind this is not real Russian, I can't get the board to go to Cyrillic) . This seems to work and she goes back and gets her. From there though, we do not go home. We pass a black cat and must change our path. We then go to the other place that is even more sketchy than Texas to retreive their husbands. I'm thinking my host father will flip his lid when he sees how drunk his wife is and that he'll be none too happy with me for being the "reason" why she's so drunk.

She plunked herself down on some bench and tried to introduce me to every available gentlemen. Thankfully, she did this in English, so perhaps they just didn't understand, although some dude, I think named Sergei, seemd to be wanting to take her up on the offer of a greencard. I went down the stairs and asked Sasha to come home with us, but he came up, looked at his wife, talked to her, looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and went back downstairs to play computer games. Oh well. Soon after I was able to get her home and helped her into bed. It wasw around 11:30pm and I had not packed for my travels or taken a shower, which meant that I'd have to get up exceedingly early to do both. And, oh, did I mention that the 5 year old was at home all alone during this time?

The next morning I got up, and while I was doing my bucket bath, I heard the all too familiar sounds of someone throwing up. I only had one exchange with her before I left where she told me she was "ploha" (bad) and some other stuff I didn't understand. She went back to bed and I said "paka" as I shut the door behind me.

Disclaimer

Sorry for the long absence. I got back to training a few days ago and only now have had time (or ability) to write. I am continuing in chronological order from before I left for site, so it may take me a week to catch up to what is up now. Thanks for your patience, folks.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

To Love!

Last week when I went over to Sveta's parents house for the shower (yup, once a week I get to feel a steady slow trickle of water from a hand held shower-thingie, it's fantastic!) we had a small meal after showering.

Alcohol usually will accompany such types of gatherings and in company that I trust, I feel comfortable having a bit. The first toast of vodka was to me finding my other half here in Ukraine. The second toast was to love.

Ukrainians are obsessed with the fact that me (as well as the other two young ladies in my group) are single. One host mother even insinuated, what is the point? We are all too old anyway.

Most women I've met got married before they were 20. Actually, this is basically all the women that I have met. I hear that in the big cities that this is not the norm, and we shall see--time will tell. But I also hear that them encouraging me to go out with some Ukrainian dude is also a token of their own affection for me, and that they want me to be happy, as family is the basis of happiness in Ukraine.

While I have no desires to actually do this, I suppose I will have to take the compliment and I'll certainly accept the free cake, vodka, and other things that accompany being one of three single American women in a small community not used to such exotic beauties.

Another Big Shout Out

To Leah! Leah, thanks for the letter and especially thanks for the cd of Ria's wedding. It was fantastic to see and I got to share it with some of the other members of my cluster who brought up the point that if I ever end up teaching something about weddings in the United States that this will be a perfect thing to use! Keep it coming folks!

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Culture Shock

This past Saturday, part of our technical training involved finding out where we are on the accepted Culture Shock scale. This is a scale that goes from "the Honeymoon" to "Final Adjustment" and consists of about 5 or 6 stages. I forget. I was too busy looking at the first three trying to figure out where I was.

Upon reflection, the honeymoon is definitely over. Things are no longer 'quaint' or 'charming' like they were in the beginning. I was able to eat anything (despite my tummy being upset afterwards, I'd still try anything), do anything, stay up long hours and study my Russian like it was my job (well, actually... I guess it is...) but then things started to settle in. Cows on the side of the road (not fenced in) ceased being "quaint" and just are odd. As is eating spaghetti with ketchup. In the beginning I would have been able to eat that stuff up and asked for more. Now, it's just like, "oh, that sucked."

But you know, the second stage is where the frustrations come, where things "stop being polite and start getting real," to use the Real World's phrase. And these things are good. We start to settle in more, feel more comfortable in our environment, and see certain things as how they really are. The stage after is the first readjustment phase, where we are able to recognize and adapt to the changes.

Upon reflection, I see elements of all three stages in my current disposition. Some things still rock, some things less so, and some things just are. It's the same anywhere, really? And honestly, it took me much longer to adapt to living in Ohio, because well, Ohio is America, afterall, right? So why were things so different?

The important lesson from that session didn't actually come from finding where I was on some academic scale though, it came from a question my TCF asked, "during what stage is it okay to complain?" Some folks said the second stage. I was also thinking that. But then I thought a second longer and responded, "never."

"Exactly," she said. "You didn't come to Ukraine to complain."

Well said.

Halloween

K asked whether or not they do Halloween here.

The answer is no.

Beforehand I talked to my host family and extended family about Halloween, what it is and how cool it is, because it is. It's probably easiest my favorite holiday, simply because I love dressing up and going to parties and eating candy. I did not tell her that last year I went to the department party dressed as a Russian mail order bride. I thought that would probably be culturally insensitive, since there are also many Ukrainian bride exchanges here and Ukraine is a definite stop in the human trafficking route. It's crazy. And something to delve into (in terms of education) later, quite possibly as a secondary project.

But no, there was no Halloween for me this year. I went and bought some candy and ended up giving it to the little one telling him that it was because it is Halloween and made him say "trick or treat" to me. Ah. That was enough for me. Plus, I got to eat the rest of the candy I bought, I mean, share it with the other girls in my cluster at Safety Day.

"Safety Day" you ask?

Yes, we have an entire day of dedicated to making sure that we can be the safest volunteers on the planet. We looked at stats on crimes in Ukraine and talked about how to keep ourselves out of trouble. Avoiding alcohol and walking alone at night seem to be extremely key in this equation.

We had this safety day in some small town past another city and it was far away. Well, about an hour and a half away or longer, seeing as how we picked up our link group in their podunk village in the morning before heading off to this other podunk town. Members of the other group mentioned how they celebrated Halloween by going out to a local bar and having a few beers. Some people took the opportunity to dress up. I asked what they dressed up as. Their costumes were unclear, apparently.

The next holiday (I hear) is the Christmas holiday season. Apparently the western half (the most Catholic part of the country, thanks to next door neighbor Poland) celebrates on the 25th, the day that we will depart from some old time Soviet holiday place to our sites. Yes folks, that is how I will spend my Christmas, on some train heading out to the coal mines of Eastern Ukraine.

Traditional Christmas is celebrated on January 7th, after New Year, which is on the first of the year, and is celebrated much like our Christmas, from what I hear and the pictures I have seen. Kids get candy and money, decorate a tree and eat food. I can't wait.

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