The Toast to End All Toasts

Today the faculty had a small party in a classroom to celebrate the birth of three children to two colleagues. There was all sorts of small tasty foods that I promptly helped myself too when it was finally time to eat, and of course, because this is Ukraine, there was plenty of alcohol on hand.

I have been at the University now for two months, and this is the second time that I have drank at school. Thankfully this is the first time after my classes were through. Oh wait, I actually didn't teach today, due to a meeting with the police, but that is a different story.

Anyway, somewhere admist toast after toast that I just could not understand, the head of the department gets up and makes some toast and I can distinctly understand several words: my name, my coordinators name, and the word zamoshem. Meaning, she was wishing that I would marry my coordinator. Who was also there.

But what can you do? This is not the first time that someone has made such comments publically to me in front of him and besides being hugely embarrassing and uncomfortable, I also have to take a step back and realize that in Ukrainian culture it is a big compliment. They believe strongly that to be happy is to be married and so they are not so much asking me to press harrassment charges as they are wanting me to be happy and to stay here in Ukraine.

Good Days

In case you haven't been able to tell, I was going through a spell of "what the f*** am I doing here" for about a week or more, but things have seemed to settle themselves down now.

I had a few conversations with my host family, making things at least feel a bit more normal again, at the very least livable, which in all honesty, it had ceased being once I got back from my Russian language refresher.

But I've found that to pretty much be the case here. Anytime I'm pulled away for some training, even if it is just for a day, it is extremely difficult to get back into the swing of things and takes about a week or two to reestablish my routine and my own motivations.

On Monday I thought that my classes went well, or at least they were better than they were the week before when I wanted to smack most of my students silly just because I wasn't feeling it myself. This week, I have been somewhat excited again and looking forward to finding out exactly what will work with these students, who are quite different than American students.

I have been hanging out a bit more with the family, taking more time to talk to them and practice my Russian again. I have not done much learning of new words, but I have been trying to be more conscious of my grammar, conjugating verbs properly and whatnot. I have a habit of trying to speak fast rather than correctly. I'm trying to make it fast and correct. And as always, working on trying to not sound so much like a foreigner.

Also, last night I was finally able to make my first joke. Granted, I could get my family back K--to laugh at me too, but it was usually just that, them laughing at me. So my host father was eating some borsht and had some long green onions off to the side. He picked one up and dipped it in some salt and promptly, bit by bit, ate it, like a rabbit. My host mother looked at him and said, "tasty?" in a way that indicated her disdain. I reponded with exactly what I had thought, which was that he looked like a rabbit, and they both started laughing hysterically to which I obviously joined in, because finally I gotten exactly what I wanted across without having them laugh at my attempt. It was good.

10 Foods I am Missing the Most

Food seems to be something that is always on my mind.

Some days I will just start thinking about a particular food that I have not had in a long time and just obsess about it all day long. This is something to an extent that I've noticed that other volunteers do as well.

Here is my latest list of foods that I can't seem to get out my mind:

1) Mint chocolate chip ice cream.
2) Pizza.
3) Deviled Eggs. (I can make them here and plan on it once I have my own place).
4) Chicken Salad Sandwiches. (Similarily, I should be able to make my own, but it will never be like deli style).
5) Guacamole/salsa/Mexican food.
6) Spaghetti.
7) Salads and salad dressing. (Ukrainian and Russian salads never have lettuce or dressing, just cut up vegetables with some oil).
8) Campbells Chunky Soups.
9) Hamburgers. (You know, the big fat kind you can get at a diner).
10) Juicy Steak. (Yes, I didn't eat red meat in America, but crap, I'm going to).

Assumptions

We all know that to assume makes an ass out of u and me, right?

In terms of the job here in Ukraine, assumptions are the biggest problem. Coming from perhaps twenty-four plus years of being either educated or working for an American education system I am pretty confident that I know how our education works. The wrong thing to do was to assume that teaching at a university in Ukraine would be in any way similar to teaching at one in America.

In America, students sign up for courses. The responsibility is on the student to make the right choices so they can fulfill their credit hours in the right places and so on. They have advisors who can guide them to make the appropriate selections and then the student will head down to the registrar's office or simply do it online. All of this takes place months in advance of the next semester and you have at least a draft (if not the actual) of what your fall semester will look like in March. The same is true for educators.

In Ukraine, I found out when I'd be teaching the Saturday morning before classes started. I was assured that I would not have a Monday 8:30am class, which relieved me so I could show up early, make copies of texts, and be ready. No such luck. I would teach Monday from first to fourth period with no breaks. This lack of foreknowledge is considered normal. Students also have no choice in making their class schedules and find themselves having classes on Saturday and Sunday. Because some students have jobs, they never attend any classes, as they meet when they are working, when they did not schedule themselves. They also only find out their schedules on the first day of classes and take all their classes together as a group depending upon their specialization.

During my second week of teaching I learned even more about assumptions as I went upstairs to meet my creative writing class and found myself all alone. I went downstairs wondering where they all could be and asked a colleague about what room my class was in, as maybe I was mistaken. He gave me a new room number and off I went. See, every week, every class, we will be assigned a different room. Sometimes without a blackboard as well. Of course the American in me finds this completely impractical and sadly was quite flustered by this, as at the time, I had no idea where one went to find out what rooms you would be in. Later I found the schedule and list that is printed out biweekly with the penciled in room numbers. I still have no real explanation of this constant room switching other than there are not enough rooms for everyone to teach. I think that it may also have to do with some rooms being down right cold and teachers and students having to share that burden.

Essentially what I have learned from these two things and the many other minor assumptions I have about work on a daily basis, is that I have to learn to predict these things, ask a lot of questions, put things on the table, ask why. Before, when I would ask questions, my counterpart would not give full details, since, similarily, to him the questions I had asked had obvious answers to him. I am working on changing this attitude for both of us, so that I can be a more effective and productive volunteer, and he.... well, I don't know what he will gain from this exchange!

Assumptions have also become a focal point for my culture classes, as I have learned how intrinsic these patterns and beliefs are to each of us and how they lead to misunderstandings that could be potentially harmful. I am trying my best to avoid those situations, although goodness only knows how successful or unsuccessful I have been!

Profound Hunger

A few weeks back my host parents got a divorce.

Before I headed up to Prolisok, my host mother told me that pops had gone to visit babushka back in Zap. She seemed happy, the kids seemed happy, crap, I was happy too. With him gone for a few days, I wouldn't have to listen to them bicker. "Too bad he's leaving around the same time I am," I foolishly thought, thinking how wonderful it would be to relish more of this quiet time.

When I arrived home from training, I was not greeted as I usually am by my host father making me tea at 6am as he would smoke his first cigarette of the day. This time I just assumed that maybe he went to bed extra late or was simply passed out from having a few too many.

The day passed and still no sign of pops. Later, my host mom told me that he was still in Zap. I had no idea how long he will be gone, because she seemed scant on details but high on life, clearly enjoying having him out of the picture.

The sad thing is that while I prefer to be left alone by both host parents, I finally found out who the procurer of food was and sorely miss his absence.

Since he has been gone, I am left alone traditionally with no food--barely even any bread in the apartment. The fridge is literally empty--completely empty and I see no signs of food other than what is left on the dishes in the sink.

"Big Deal!" you may think, "just go out and buy yourself some food!" But see, that is the point--I pay over half of my salary to the host family for the sole purpose of being fed. I don't have any money to buy my own food every day. Just enough to go out with the boys from time to time and eat at McDonald's once in a while and try to save parts of my allowance allocated to travel.

Today, for instance, I smell food, so I know it is present in the home. I go to the kitchen and see that all that is on the menu is gretchka. My stomach turns at the site of it and I look for bread. None. Cookies? None. It appears that some meat is cooking on the stove, but who knows if it's ready to be eaten or if it's something I can help myself to.

*Sigh* Last night I jumped at the opportunity of going to a volunteers for dinner who, along with an out of town PCV, made a delicious dinner. On Sunday night, another one wil have his land lady teach him how to make borsch and we are invited to watch and consume the final product. But today is Saturday* and I have lesson plans to do but can only think about my grumbling tummy and how it isn't even noon yet. It looks like after a long absence, gretchka and I will become reacquainted.

*This was written several days ago at home. Pops returned on Sunday and has promised to make me something tasty tonight. Clearly one parent is my favorite.

I'm Lovin It

I'm home. I'm in America. I'm listening to English music. I'm surrounded by folks with a little jingle in their pockets. I can eat alone and not feel threatened. I can understand that menu. People smile when they take my order. There is a drive thru open 24 hours a day. The only drive thru I've seen. There is play equipment outside. It looks like new. The bathrooms are clean. And they have toliet paper. People leave you alone.

You have to know where I am.

But perhaps you can not understand why I love it so.

The familarity is what brings me here. Like opening up the Sunday Inquirer while drinking Bigleow tea with honey. Like being behind the wheel on I-90 listening to NPR or a tape. Like putting on pajamas and reading a good book. Like Lifetime Television.

Whether it be the Royal Chizburger, the gamburger, or just kartoshki fries, I am hapy and content. I am back in those places. I have never left. I am home. And I'm lovin it.

Feeling Refreshed

My first language refresher here was probably the best bit of training that I have had yet in country. While I can not say that I have mastered Russian any better than before, I did have an opportunity to practice, and to think more about why this language is so dang hard to learn.

I have talked before about the complications of this language, and I will try to illuminate even further now.

See, in Russian, there are female words and masculine words, like in Spanish or in French. Also, any adjectives that describe these nouns must agree with the gender. This too is no different. But see, there are also different cases in Russian, 6 to be exact, that change the endings on nouns, and the adjectives that agree with them, depending upon how the word is being used in a sentence. You can make these changes with just about anything--question words, and yes, sometimes even personal pronouns. Yikes.

The only case that I am any good at is the instrumental case, mostly because you can use it with food. Plus, it is used anytime you use the word "with" which is "C" in Russian. Tea with sugar or lemon. Pastry with cabbage or potato. However, I only know how to make the ending with masculine words, so thankfully all the ones I listed are masculine.

The refresher has slightly motivated me to learn the language better, as I do feel that it is absolutely necessary to me feeling more at home and safe here in my town, but has not yet answered the question I have posed myself about what way of learning language is best? Currently living with a host family, I feel that that is my language training. Granted, I have not really learned anything terribly new in the month and a half that I have been living with them, but at least I try to speak. I have found myself growing incredibly tired of the situation though, as living with a family and working is not my idea of fun. I want my own place, and I want it now. But I need to continue being patient. It will come in time. And then I'll really have to think about the language more.

Some volunteers have never gotten tutors, or used them only at the beginning but do a lot of study alone and talking with people in their community as ways of learning the language and the cases. This seems to me to be the better option for myself, but making that sort of committment is extremely difficult.

Besides language, we did get to watch some great Russian films and of course, the whole point of trainings: socializing and dancing. The two language groups overlapped somewhat, so thankfully I also got to see all the people who speak Ukrainian that I wanted to see, so it was a great time all around. Cold, but great.

Off for a Week

This is a notice that I will be "out of the office" for the next week. I leave on Wednesday night heading back up to Kyiv and then we are off to a language training where we will be practicing our Russian for awhile and then doing some technical training.

It will be great to see my clustermates again, along with all of my other PC friends, and since this training is not just for my group, but the two prior, there will be lots of opportunities to meet new people too. Should be fun.

At the very least, there will be dancing.

Until I am back in action here, take care!

Things I took for Granted....

The beginning of February marks my fourth month of being in Ukraine. A volunteer who is almost finished his service congratulated me by teling me I am 1/24th done. "That's like 7%," he encouraged me.

So while this time is short when looking at the overall goal, it's long enough to appreciate some things that I used to take for granted in America, but now sorely miss.

1) Washing Machines. Even if it meant hauling a month supply of laundry to Kip's or whatever the place was that almost caught fire while we were doing laundry, at least it was available.

Doing laundry by hand is a very difficult and strenuous task, especially compounded by the fact that my host family does not have a washing board. My hands and back hurt very quickly and there is not enough room no my radiator to dry a lot of things. I take to doing just socks, underwear, and long johns when I have A) time and B) hot water. Even something like a training trip that is coming up must be diligently prepared for, cleaning and gathering enough clean clothes to get me through a week a away from home.

Also, please realize that I never wear an entire outfit of "clean" clothes. Actually, I hardly wear anything that is truly clean, since my idea of handwashing is running hot water, putting in some soap, getting my clothes wet, sloshing them around a bit. Then comes rinse, wring, and dry.

2) Living in a country where people speak your language readily

Every day I realize how little I must have paid attention in language class as I am confronted with new verbs, combinations, questions, and so on. Honestly, I have no clue what anyone is takling about 80% of the time. Currently, I do not even have time to practice or develop it further, but my host mother assures me that everything will be beautiful and okay.

The other female volunteer in town once said that in America when you hear someone speaking English poorly, you assume that they are a foreigner, not an idiot, as they do here. I get scoffs and stares and very few people are willing to be sympathetic or anything other than disgusted.

Oh, if only England had done a better job at expanding her empire, I would not be at such a loss now.

3) Independence

Part of the reason I joined the P C in the first place was because I considered myself to be exceptionally independent. Now I realize that without some basic things that I took for granted, I am not really so independent afterall. #2, Language is a huge factor in this, but contributing factors are the host family, lack of my own transportation, different views on gender, and safety concerns.

Here I am very dependent--I am dependent on the Peace Corps, my university, the volunteers in the town and area, my host family, and basically the kindness of strangers. It takes a lot to get used to, and while I do hope that it will change over time, as I improve the language and get my own apartment, I do not think that these things will mean that I wil have completely gained my independence again.

4) Regular and Consistant Store Hours

Did you know that a lot of businesses close for lunch? Really, I only care about one particular business: the bank. Every damn time I need money (I have no bank card here, people) I have to go to the bank, bring my little bank document, and stand ni one line, then another, then walk around looking for the best exchange rate, which folks, is falling. Whie typically this "hassle" doesn't bother me, it just seems that every time *I* want to go to the bank (of which there is only one that we can use, and even in a town of over 500,000 people, this bank has only 1 location) its closed. Not for a holiday, but for lunch or repairs or somethign.

5) Free cell phone minutes

Anytime, any length, any day it costs money to talk on the phone. As a matter of fact, most volunteers do not talk on the phone, they only send text messages, which also cost money, but is cheaper than placing a phone call. I do not know why Ukraine has not yet caught on to the concept of plans or contracts, or maybe they have, but my language skills are so abysmal that I can't find that out. I do miss Alltel, and the ability to call and chat for as long as I want.

I have probably only received about 10-15 phone calls since I've moved to N--, which is a really depressing thought. Land lines are good to use for making local calls, but sadly, like the washing machine, my family does not have.

6) Relationships.

Enough said.