Hey! Look What You Can Do!

Send me free text messages to my cell phone! Joy!

What's that you say? How?

Simply go to this website:

http://www.umc.ua/eng/sms_services.php

And then go to the bottom of the page where you will see the option, "send SMS." Click on it, type up your message and send it! If you don't have my phone number, e-mail me and I'll send it out.

It will cost me money to respond to you (via e-mail) but it's a pretty cool thing to do!

My First Weekend Trip

So far I've spent six month in country and never travelled anywhere overnight other than for work reasons.

It's time to change that, and I think that April will prove to be a busy month. It all starts this weekend with a trip to Odessa.

Odessa has over one million people and is a real city. I have yet to go, but as travel guides only rave about four places in Ukraine, Odessa being 1, I am super excited about it. (For the record, Kyiv, Crimea, and Lviv are the others).

This weekend Odessa has it's largest carnival, the Humor Carnival to celebrate April Fool's Day. Supposedly it's a big deal and I didn't want to miss out. The city is particularly known for it's sense of humor, which is dervived from it's Jewish population. Many famous comedians come from Odessa, including the entertain who dresses up like a woman and sings songs and supports the Green party.

Odessa is also known for its extreme beauty, built to be a crown jewel for Catherine the Great, the archetecture is supposedly more European and grand than most cities in Ukraine.

Odessians are themselves supposedly a breed apart knowing that they are inhabitants of a charmed city.

All of this will be checked out this weekend for verification.

Election Results (Sort of)

So, Ukraine had its election on the last Sunday of March, and to my knowledge (as I asked students every day) there has been no winner officially announced, but it looks like Yanacovich won (with soemthing like 30%). Yulia is next followed by Yushchenko's bloc, and then the Socialists (Moroz) and then the Commies.

But here is where things get weird:

My students told me that there is still a chance that Yulia could win by Наша Ukraina and her bloc joining forces. However, my students also pointed out that there is alos a chance that Party of Regions and Наша Ukraina could join, which again, blows my used-to-American-politics-mind. That's as if after Kerry lost, the Democrats decide, "well, f*** it, let's support Bush too," because it seems that people view Yanacovich and Yushchenko as political opposites, even enemies (I mean for goodness sake, Yushchenko was poisoned by someone).

I'm sure if there hasn't been already, there might be soem stuff in the news about it, if Belarus's business isn't hogging up the Eastern Europe scene in the news.

Life has seemed to settle down and back to normal. No more flag waving. No more billboards. No more tents. The election is over, so it's back to business as usual.

The Letter to Americans

In what will probably go down as my biggest hit with my fourth course students, I gave them an assignment that they all really enjoyed. A few weeks ago we did a unit on letters and letter writing. I made them learn about and write "thank yous," "invitations," "acknowledgements," "complaints," condolences," and so on before I wielded out the "letter to an American student" homework. They seemed amused when I initially told them, but when I said that I would actually send the letters their eyes got big and you could see the combination of genuine fear and excitement in them.

Several of the letters stood out from the rest. The first one I read (by the same student featured in an earlier entry, "The Assignment") was excellent, mentionally all the natural beauty that can be found in Ukraine. I commented to her how well written it was and she replied, "I should be good at writing letters, it's my job. I work for an agency in town." "One of the marriage agencies?," I asked. "Yes. I write letters to the American men." Like it or hate it, the marriage/dating agencies are a part of life here in Ukraine (especially in my town and nearby Odessa) and they are a lot of teh times somewhat unseemly, from the men, to the women, and the folks who run the places. But that is a different entry for another day.

I ran out of time in that class editing and the second class I read another letter that merits a mention, as it in a similar vein. The student asked why American men are always coming to Ukraine looking for women. "I never hear of American women coming to look for Ukrainian men," she pointed out in her letter. This query prompted her to ask, "what is wrong with American women, anyway?" It was at that point that I burst out laughing and asked her if she'd let me nkow what the response was, because I also would like to know, although, I think I already have an idea.

I gave them a form for feedback on the course thus far to see what have been interesting and useful for them and this overwhelmingly has been a hit amongst the group.

Thanks for the Packages!

Last week I received two packages from the States containing such wonderful treats as Oreos, peanut butter, cheese whiz (I'm wondering how I can make cheesesteaks with it), various chocolates and candies, towels, a people magazine, peeps, pictures, tea, and so on.

I live for such small treasures. So thank you Mom and Leah!

I occasionally get requests in regards to what folks should send. The answers vary according to moods, but these are always to please:
-cake mixes, cookie mixes, brownie mixes
-pudding mixes
-taco mixes
-fajita mixes
-so, essentially, anything spicy or tasty in a mix form. If they have salsa or dips in a packet form, send it.
-magazines are always good and can pass them along. Just know that as volunteers we get Newsweek International.
-photos. People love 'em.
-dvd copies of American TV shows.
-books. About just about anything. Favorite piece of fiction? Some junior classics? I can make excellent use of them.

I will warn that packages sent to Kyiv are notoriously lighter or nonexistant by the time they reach the volunteers. And supposedly a package to N-- has gone missing, but otherwise all are accounted for.

Again, letters and postcards are also welcome and I have a good track record for writing everyone back, even if it takes a while (Leah, your letter is on its way).

St. Pat's In Ukraine

Early in the day, I got a text message from a volunteer in town suggesting to meet up at a bar/cafe for a beer after he was done with work.

I agreed, and when we met , I decided that I too would partake in some vodka and juice, because afterall, it was St. Patrick's Day, and there was no Guiness for miles (or should I say kilometers?).

So, starting the night of right, he asked if I wanted to continue the evening doing karaoke. You know he didn't have to ask me twice. He then inquired to our waitress where we could go, but alas, she did not know. She asked the woman behind the bar who promptly was at our side with a piece of paper in hand. She gave us the address, told us the stop, and away we went.

While the selection was scant and the charge per song was a bit pricey ($1), we sang every song together, putting as much soul as we could into every rendition. Be it "Annie's Song," "Hey Jude," or "How Deep is your Love." While by most patrons (and the karaoke Queen) we were merely tolerated, several Ukrainian men appreciated our stylings as they bounced their head and mouthed the words to "Yellow Submarine" or "Let It Be." One man even bought us both a beer, which we then felt obligated to drink.

The next mroning we reminisced about all the tunes we belted and figured that we must have sung at least 13 songs and had quite a fantastic time. An interesting way to spent St. Pat's Day none the less.

Thoughts While Packing

Every time I have packed up all my belongings my thoughts return to that late night in West Chester and making some final decisions in order to simly carry my belongings alone (which actually, inretrospect is an exaggeration, as I got help along the way).

I am reminded of the anxiety I felt on the way to Chicago and then from Chicago to Kyiv, and so on. I found my first host family information (a small drawing of the family along with their address and phone numbers) that our LCF gave us before we got on the bus to our training site and how anxious I was about meeting them. But it all went wonderfully.

I remember going back to Prolisok in November with the knowledge that when I returned to training I would know where home would be in Ukraine. And taht was another nail biting event. Pretty much anytime I had to pack any bag was unbelievably nerve racking. But this time it was only exhiliaration. After nearly 6 months, I am going to be on my own. I know where I am going, what I am doing, and I couldn't be more pleased.

The morning of the day I was moving out I woke up early, much like a kid on Christmas morning full of excitement and anticipation. No anxiety. No need.

Politicking Ukrainian Style

Here in Ukraine, where over 40 parties are registered in the upcoming election, it is common to see people wearing aprons or brightly colored t-shirts proclaiming their parties waving tall matching flags all day near busy intersections. Nearby stand their tents with info. Off hand, I can remember Наша Ukraine (weird to see Ukraine in Russian with this party, so I will just type it in English), Party of Regions, Yulia's bloc, the Communist party, some new student/civil society party (пора), the Socialist party, the "Not Yes" party (Не Так), the Pensioners party, and the Green Party (which supposedly is not related to the American Green Party), the Homeland party, and many others that I have no idea what they are. The idea and concept of choice astounds me.

This past weekend there was a huge Green Party concert that we only walked by to avoid any political association as per our PC rules and regulations. There were more people in N-- than I had ever seen at this thing, all coming for a popular Ukrainian entertainer. A humorist/singer/entertainer who dresses up like a woman. In America we would call this political suicide: can you imagine a dude in drag supporting either the Democrats or Republicans publically? However, in Ukraine it's obviously the way to pack a town.

The next day I spotted about 20 cars, in what could be compared to a funeral procession, rolling down Prospect Lenina with big Party of Regions flags. The day after it was the same thing down by my house but only with more flags and more cars for Yulia's bloc. The day after that I finished up work and came down to Sovietskaya and saw what looked like a mini Orange Revolution with Nasha Ukraina's (Yushchenko's bloc) orange tents lined up all up and down the busy pedistrian street.

These are all some pretty interesting campaign techniques, ones I have not and probably will not see in America, where we prefer a less wide-canvassing and stick to demographics.

The First 10 Things I Will Do in My Own Apartment

Rather than focus on the negatives of the past three months living in the confines of a family,* I chose to spend my few remaining days** concentrating on all the things I have to look forward to. I share some here with you:

1. Enjoy the silence.
2. Take a mid-morning hot bath.
3. Stock the fridge with things I like, including juice and вода без газа.
4. Make phone calls from my land line!
5. Buy мёд and have it with my Plantation Mint tea and drink it out of my special mug.
6. Leave bathroom door open.
7. Not bring change of clothes into bathroom with me.
8. Wash my clothes in the washing machine!
9. Catch up with what's going on on my favorite Russian serial.
10. Dance, dance, dance.

*I want to make it clear that this refers only to my N-- family.
**As everything here is not quite what it seems, I fear having to send yet another week at the family. We are allowed to leave on Sunday. It depends on my university to come through, which, so far, they have.

Another Concept I Can't Wrap my American Head Around

Yesterday I was asked to give the fifth year studnets credit. I was given a form and I asked, "exactly what am I do with this? What kind of mark do I need to give?" "You need to write pass," my colleague responded. "Even to the students who never showed up?" "Yes, because the mark will go on their diplomas, you see." I didn't. I tried asking a few times more, incredulous, trying to understand why I would need to pass a student who never attended one class. Getting nowhere, I then switched gears as to not offend and asked why any student would show up if they would get a credit whether or not they attended or did any work. Essentially, I have no authority or purpose (it seems to me) if this is the case, therefore, why teach at all?

I see that this is something I am going to need to ask more questions about to other PCVs and to my university. I try to work my classes on a point system, assigning a specific amount for every assignment with the intent of using them to calculate a grade at the end of the semester. This seems now pointless and no less confusing to my students.

My colleague menioned the possibility of doing something else with my courses next semester, but I am not sure what that grading scheme is like or if it is any different.

But honestlyy, from my American education background, I just can not comprehend how or why someone can get credit for a class he or she never attended. I am hoping (and assuming) that there is more logical explanation for everything, but currently I am at a loss.

Graffitti

In case you were not aware, this is election season in Ukraine. The actual day of the election coincides with our offical move out date, now less than two weeks away. Since about mid-February, its been political campaign madness about town with at least a dozen different parties setting up camp all over the place. Colorful tents pop up basically everywhere supporting one party or bloc or candidate. Yulia Timaschenko has probably done the best in marketing--beautiful air brushed photographs of her wearing white and an all white background. Her logo is a red heart. Orange is taken for Yuschenko's party and all blue for Yanocovich. There are many other groups including the Не Так bloc, which promotes some sort of union with Russia, Kazakstan, and Belarus; saying no to NATO; and 'yes' to Russian language (Ukrainian is now offical language, but depending on where you live it's either widely spoken or not at all, like where I live).

So with all this politics in the air, I have within a week come across some rather amusing graffitti. One was on a party Regionov poster that only has Yanocovich's face on it. Across his face was written Козел, which means goat, the derogatory term for Russians. Considering where Yanokovich support lies, the comment definitely made me laugh to myself.

Then today, on my way to work, I saw that someone had written on an awning, "FUKC OF RUSSIA." This also made me laugh, mostly because it took me a second to realize that the author probably meant "off" not "of," who cares about the other misspelling, you get the idea.

We will see how gets to tell who to "fukc" off in a few weeks. It's an interesting election and definitely will be a very foretelling one for the futures of not only Ukraine, but Russia, other FSU countries, America, and Europe.

A friend update

As I was sitting in the kitchen with my host mom and sister Sunday evening I got a phone call from the man I met the day before Women's Day. He was on a train heading to Kyiv. He left earlier than he had expected to and expressed regret that we could not meet again. My host family laughed silently as I tried to talk to him in Russian, wondering who the hell it could be.

He'll be gone for 6 or 7 months, which counts him temporarily out of the running for being my new best Ukrainian friend, but I still contend that it's helpful for me to talk to people and take chances on putting myself out there.

We will see if my female Julia Roberts friend calls. Right now that's all I got!

Остoронжа! (or something like that)

On Saturday, when I was walking with two other volunteers, I slipped on some ice and fell directly into a large muddy puddle.

All I could do is laugh, as I had gotten the seat of my pants wet and muddy. I reached out for a hand and was helped up. The other volunteer pointed out that neither of them laughed. They could have. Just another humbling moment in Ukraine.

The Assignment

My Creative Writing class at the university had a homework assignment to write a persuasive essay last week. I gave them some innocuous topics to choose from, such as "why people should stop smoking," or "why people should visit our city," but some students decided to get creative on their own. The essay that follows is a product of this assignment. I have decided to leave it unedited in its original form:

Why people should leave Ukraine
We live in Ukraine, and this country doesn't worth of saying much about. I think in future there will left not many people in Ukraine. They will leave to foreign countries to have better life.

At first, her is no oportunities for good life and making money. Now there is a tendency that having ties is much more important then to have higher education. I mean, those who have ties will be rich and won't be worry about their future, and people who are well educated and ready to work have to sweep the streets.

Secondly, the government doesn't care anybody. It can't provide graduates job places. Retired people have to work to earn money for bread. Women are afraid to born children, they afraid not to have money to feed them and bring them up worthy people.

And the last, it's simply not pleasant to live in disrespectful conditions and it's scary to walk on the streets, espesially at night. People don't know what will happen to them the very next day and that's why live the single day.

So, making a conclusion, I want to say: people, espesially youth, think twice weather you want to live in the country where hardly be good future.
*********************************************************************************

I have mixed feelings about the essay personally, as I think that someo f her arguments are exaggerations, but the overall idea of it left me saddened, offended, and understanding all at the same time.

Saddened because when I think about my native county, none of these are reasons I'd ever think about leaving. America has it's problems, and yes even some of her arguments would carry weight in America, yet it's certainly not the same sort of hopelessness that pervades this essay, and it only is exacerbated by the numerous grammatical errors. This student is in her fourth of five years studying to become a translator and intrepretor. All my students in this year write better and more coherently than they speak.

I was offended by this article because I see Ukraine as something different, something hopefuly, something awakening. She has been in a sleep, and has not been as successful in her transformation to democracy as her Northern Baltic cousins. Her future has the potential to be bright, certainly brighter than other FSU countries. Ukraine is a country rich in history and culture if not in its average GDP. If you are considered family, they will do anything for you. They are much more giving of themselves and material belongings than Americans. Ukraine has great potential. I believe that.

Despite this, I understand her frustrations. I too am scared to walk home at night. I specifically asked for an apartment within a quick walk from a bus or marshrutka stop. With unemployment high, it is not uncommon to see many young and old men intoxicated at any hour of the day or to walk over hyperdermic needles disguarded on the sidewalks all around the city. While I feel for their economic situation, I feel more for my own safety. I understand why someone young, someone who is educated, would seek a different life somewhere else. Somewhere where they could potentialy make more money even send some home and get a job based on merit, not because so-and-so worked with your parents. While these things also happen in the U.S. I don't think that it evokes the same sense of helplessness that one can experience here.

Chalk it up to communism. Think of it as being a product of the centuries its people have been under rule and oppressed by different outside forces.

Whatever it is, it dose remind me how strnog the American spirit of hope actually is and how we tend to beleive more strongly in the powers of tomorrow and have a more prevailing sense of idealism. That idea of the "American Dream" still exists today even if it factually can be hard to locate. I understand that other cultures do not have this same tradition or understanding, but I do not really know what do do with that or really even how to respond, other than with a combination of sympathy and disbelief. I want others to be proud of their country and want to make it a place worth living in. I want them to see the patriotism involved in being a dissenter, that it takes soemone who wants their home to be better to make it so.

Women's Day

It was decided earlier in the week that one of the volunteers in town and myself would head out to a town where two other PCVs live to celebrate Women's Day at their site. It increased in number to include another female PCV living in another small town in another direction.

Plans changed a bit once we realized that our old and new managers would come to town for dinner and it was decided that we would visit the town (B--) for the day and then have all the girls (4 total) come back with us to N--. It was to be a fun-filled day full of adventure.

Early in the morning I meet up with the other two volunteers and we wait for about 45 minutes for the marshrutka to fill up. Finally it does and it takes off on ever increasing bumpy and icy roads. Eventually we get to B-- and are greeted by the two enthuastic volunteers who are happy to have people come and visit their town. This is the first time that I've been in a small town since I left K-- in training. It was great to be back in a small town where people go out of their way to be extra friendly and helpful.

We went to one of the PCV's host family's to celebrate and ate till we could not eat another bite and drank numerous bottles of champagne. Ever the gracious hostess, the host mother kept the conversation going (in both Russian and Ukrainian) and the food and drink coming. Finally, we all went out for a bit to the "night club" in town, which turned out to be a really nice place. As we were the only customers in the place, save some youngish boys playing archades, the owner brought over a complimentary bottle of red dessert wine and asked is she and one of her employers could join us. Ah, the sorts of small pleasures that come with living in a small town.

Drinking and dancnig to "Mambo Number 5," we looked at our watches and realized we had to poshlee to the marshtruka in order to meet our managers at the designated time. Myself and my N-- mate get their a few minutes earlier while the girls are getting their things together in order to save some seats, but as we were waiting, three people came, leaving us two seats short, so after some attempts at sitting on some laps, they just decided to stand, the whole while we are talking and enjoying the ride.

We get back to N-- and meet our managers and go downstairs for drinks and dinner. We do some dancing, chatting, and in general just having a great time. We also witness a Ukrainian wedding proposal.

On my way up to use the bathroom, I run into this young Ukrainian woman who asks me if I speak English and again, we go through the "where are you from" deal. She is very nice, asks me to call her Julia, because she looks like Julia Roberts (she does) and her name is Yulia, Julia is the anglicized version. At any rate, when I am finished and go back downstairs, she calls out to me, asks me to dance, and wants to chat. I go over to where she and her boyfriend are and we talk for quite a bit, again, do the number exchange, and speak more and more in Russian, mostly through the help of another volunteer who actually has a good command of the language. I am always happier when a woman or girl takes an interest, because you know there is no chance of their being some sort of relationship miscommunication, and also because it happens so rarely that a female will randomly seek out the company of another female, at least in my experience.

I am still sitting and talking with them when the rest of my party leaves, so I follow them out and we decide that all the girls will stay with one volunteer for the night and we head back to his place where we get ready for bed and chat for awhile before finally going to sleep. We hit up McDonald's in the morning for breakfast.

Chalk Women's Day up as one of the best holidays ever. Also, this good streak is continuing, and I am hoping that it does not stop.

Meeting New People

Since the Maxim fiasco, I have decided that it is best to try and take chances, put yourself out there, and see what happens.

This plan worked into action the last time I was posting to all of you lovely readers. Someone asked me a question about the computer next to me, and I helped him out, but explained that I didn't really understand Russian. He then asked me (in English) if I spoke English. He wanted my help sending out an e-mail and asked me the usual: where I am from, what I am doing here, etc. Except he already seemed to know a few things about me after I did the "I'm an American, I teach at a university" business. Turns out he knows one of my students who has obviously talked about me.

Anyway, he asks if after I am doing checking e-mail if I will go to a bar or cafe with him. Because he has not shown any signs of being sketchy and it's daylight and in public, I agree. I run into another volunteer before I go and tell him what I am up to--we have English club in an hour, which also makes for a good escape.

We go to a bar and he brings me some tea and we chat for a bit, he using mostly English and some Russian and me trying to use mostly Russian, but probably more English than I'd care to admit. We exchange numbers and I leave.

I have feared doing this sort of thing in the past, but I feel that if I really do want to make attempts to learn the language and know the people, I have to make use of these opportunities, especially when people seem to only want to talk to me, nothing more.

This case was an especially good experiment because he works on ships and should be sailing off in a little more than a week.

Overall, that day was an excellent one--heading out to the English club I was presented with flowers from the boys and a gift from the student that I helped earlier in the week (and who I've written about prior). I'm going to try to ride this good-feeling wave as long as I can!

Happy Women's Day

All over the world, (okay, most of Europe) March 8th is International Women's Day. The day is celebrated by giving women flowers, candy, champagne, and letting them know how much they mean to you in your life.

Today, because the university is closed tomorrow for the holiday, my two male students gave me a card and there was a special concert that shut down the school early. There I was given a plant, I suppose because someone noticed that I was female.

Truth be told, I don't often feel female in Ukraine. Actually, I usually feel barely human. See, in a country where every woman is hyperfeminized, it's difficult to feel like a woman unless you are wearing little clothing, much makeup, and stiletto boots. Conversely, I do exactly the opposite: I wear little makeup, boots without a heel or point at the toes, and my clothing... well... it could hardly be defined at "little." Often times I feel that I dress here more like a man and that women and men hence treat me accordingly. Being foreign of course only adds to this equation, in that you suddenly cease to have a gender. I am the American. Although, thankfully in Russian, I become a Американка, the feminine form of the word American.

It is something that we female volunteers comment about from time to time, how being in this sort of culture where roles are much more stereotyped and traditional, it becomes difficult to define what about yourself is actually feminine. At home that would mean something quite different that it does here. We comment that we often times feel ugly, fat, ungirly, or the word that I most often use for lack of a better term, "dykish," simply because we do not fit into the mold that is made for Ukrainian women, and many of us wonder how we are supposed to feel like a woman when we are such a spectacle ourselves with our unfeminine behavior. Sit on the ground or on a cold bench and you get yelled at for freezing your ovaries. Never had your hair dyed? Not married by the time you are 22? Something obviously must be wrong with you. Not want children? These are concepts that are very much unfathomable to many Ukrainians my age and older, of both sexes. Younger people, and especially those people in the cities, seem to understand a bit more about the need for a career and the pain that can come from becoming permanently attached in a relationship before you are quite mature enough, but for the most part, we American women are freaks. Sloven Amazons among maidens.

Of course Ukrainian women are world reknownded for their uncommon beauty and hence, I think, take great pride in their appearance and dress. We American women are taught that if you dress in a certain way (short skirt, low cut blouse, fishnets and boots), you will not be taken seriously. It's hard to reconcile these things and decide who is actually doing what for whom. Not follow? I've had conversations with male volunteers about this: who is the Ukrainian woman actually dressing up for? Is it men, who simply want to objectify her as a sexual object? Is it for other women? For them to be jealous of their beauty and physical appearance or simply to fit in with the group? Or is it for herself? Is she dressing up and showing off her assets (also for lack of a better word) simply because she wants to feel sexy, beautiful, or confident? None of us really have answers for this, but we typically point to Communism as being the culprit. For years lack of self expression have obviously built up and now that women have money and means to dress the way that they want to, they seem to have bought into (again) this hyperfeminized idea of what a woman is.

Ah, I could go on and on about this topic, but the short of this long entry really is just this: Happy Women's Day to all you beautiful, wonderful, smart, lovely, talented, and amazing women reading this post and I am in dire need of new Ukrainian clothes.

Encore

So I waited until Sunday evening to call Maxim. I really had been looking forward to it, mostly for the comical farce I imagined it being--trying to communicate over the phone . In the days after the meeting, I imagined my Russian excelling by having tete-a-tete's with Maxim in dark cellar cafe's all around N--, discussing cinema, literature, culture, politics....

But alas, the romance was over before it ever began. One indecipherable number has made it impossible for me to locate him, unless I put a lot more effort into it than I am honestly willing to do. I made several attempts at guessing, but both guesses led me to a dead end, or at least only what I can interpret as being incorrect. *Sigh*. I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

The Concert

My sitemate had extra tickets to a classical guitar concert held at a church and so I went along.

He knew little details, other than the music university was putting it on, so we didn't really know what to expect.

The concert had two parts. The first was a Serbian guitar player who really played some beautiful pieces and the second was a sort of student recital, with less memorable but nonetheless pretty musical selections.

I spent much of the concert deep in my own thoughts, keeping my eyes nearly always focused on the stain glass window behind the pulpit, as I could not see the performers. I saw the glass get darker and darker as the sun set. My sitemate and I hardly spoke after the concert started and said nothing when it ended. He and his host mother disappeared when it was over while I was still collecting my hat and other belongings. As I turned around, I heard "как вас зовут?" and saw a man looking directly at me. "что?," I responded, even though I knew exactly what he was asking, for my name. I was just so shocked. He repeated himself and told me his name (Maxim) and went into some story of which I could understand "get acquainted with," "to marry (in the form a man would use)," and "person." I told him my name and immediately began searching the sea of faces for my sitemate. Maxim wanted my phone number, and as if I wasn't floored before, I was even more so now. I feigned ignorance but we continued to talk and he insisted that I was German. "HET!" Ukrainian? How I wanted to laugh at that. "нет, я американка." "But you are German," he persisted. "Uh, no, I'm American." But your ancestors, he continued in English, "your blood is German." Wondering what his fascination was about all of this, I responded that yes, I was German, because I am, on both sides of my family. I ask him in English and then in Russian if he works in Germany, because I swear he told me this earlier, but he just looks confused. Actually, he looked and seemed confused the entire time we talked. Sadly, I find this trait somewhat both scary and endearing at the same time. It's like "hey, are you sociopath or Hugh Grant? Only one way to find out!"

I would not give him my phone number, so instead I got his. I told him I had friends waiting and I had to go and he asked, to check, whether or not I had a phone to call him, which I do, even though it will cost me tons to call a land line, and inquired as to when I would call. "Two days," I responded. "Okay. Call after 6pm, then I'll be home." Okay, I said and left wondering exactly how that phone conversation would go. I then remembered the zhenitsa comment and went back to him. "You aren't married, are you?" "No," he said and so finally, I exited the church.

When I saw my sitemate again I chastized him for not helping me out and he promptly teased me about picking up a man in church. I of course went home to tell my host mom about all of this who shook my hand and laughed when told. Then I called a clustermate to tell her that I had proof that our former TCF (a devout Orthodox Urkainian woman) had been praying for us...

Walking Home After Film Club

The volunteer who heads the American film club here in N-- got delayed out of town this week, so I told him that I'd go ahead and show the movie, as I usually attend and also as when he is out of town, I frequently make use of his empty apartment. Tit for tat, you know.

Only three students showed up this week, they were all my students though, so it made for a relaxing time watching the film, being able to make comments, ask questions, etc.

As per routine when club is over, we usually walk part way together and then one student will usually walk longer with me because she likes to spend as much time as possible with me.

At first this was difficult to comprehend or get over--that the sole reason people wanted to get to know me was because I am an American, not because of who I am. Little by little though, I recognized her genuine sincerity and also learned to deal with the fact that people are only going to want to be my friend because I'm American, so I best get over it and just be glad that someone is interested. She's a sweet girl who takes language and studies very seriously and is always an ally in the classroom. I had discussed on occasion to the boys that I decided I wanted to pursue a friendship with her, as we seem to have things in common and we could help each other out.

Anyway, we are walking together now just the two of us against a hard N-- wind and I confide in her how much I appreciate her and her classmates. I tell her I want to teach more of her classes next year if I can because her group is interested and responsive. At this point, she tells me she has something to share with me, but won't share it in a store, where I am getting juice and we are taking refuge from the wind. Back out in the cold, she tells me she won't be here next year, that she's going to Germany. Soon, actually. I tell her that I am excited for her and congratulate her but remark that her English will suffer and shake my finger at her accusingly. As we discuss some details tears well up in her eyes. She remarks that in part she doesn't want to go because I now at her university. Can you even imagine?

I am floored by this remark, but counter with an elder's advice about seizing opportunities as to not live in regret later. She understands all of this, she assures me, but is sad she won't get a chance to see me or the other PCV's anymore and wants to stay in touch and maintain a relationship. We hug and I assure her that good people are everywhere and she better stay in touch--at the very least to practice her English. She cries before we part.

I think that we all have moments. At least I assume that we all have them, those things that give us purpose. We spend so much of our time asking ourselves, "why am I here?," "what am I doing?," "who am I helping?," and at a moment like this it all becomes clear and the temporary frustrations are actually worthwhile. It is in these moments that I actually understand the power of this program and realize how much greater than myself and my own personal irritations it is. The trick is to remember these moments in the trying times. But that is such a big person thing to do.

Always Remember Murphy's Law

PC's mantra is "be flexible" and for the most part, I try to be.

The problem for myself always arises in teaching.

I have been looking forward to showing my class a movie for weeks. I had asked about getting a tv and vcr, had my coordinator ask all the right people and he got the right room assigned to me for that day. It was all going to be taken care of.

So, today I was surprised to see that I was assigned a different classroom, but didn't really fret...I thought that everything would be okay.

I ran into my coordinator who was on his way to get to the tv and vcr. Another colleague asked if her students could sit in on the film. I said "sure" so probably had something like 50 students sitting in there as my coordinator tried to figure out why the tv was not working (power problem). To get things rolling, I had some students do their assignment: to tell some current event news about the United States. Finally when they were done, the tv/vcr was working and we started to watch the film.

We maybe got a half hour into the film and the next thing you know, there is no electricity. Actually, a man came into my room and said that there would be no electricity in five minutes, but I thought that it was a joke, since he clearly saw that I was showing a movie.

So, there I have a group of 50 students with no electricity.

I ask them to tell me about what they just saw, and after that is over, there is still no electricity. I go into the office and ask how long it will be off. The office secretary responds maybe till 2pm. "Till 2pm!" I was very furious at this point in time. I had not made any other lesson plans and I have these students for 160 minutes and we had only been in class for 45 minutes. What was I supposed to do for 2 hours? "Talk about the movie?" was her suggestion.

Sadly, it's always times like this when the American in me just can't help herself. Of course if there is going to be a planned power outage, they let you know. Obviously, I would not have planned to watch a film on this day, you know?

So I marched back into the classroom, looked at all the students, including about 25 that were not mine and said, "well, I guess we will move onto the next topic." They looked at me sadly and said, "but we haven't done that reading yet, it's due next week." "Ah, well..." I trailed off and picked up a piece of chalk ready to go into a improv of the American Government. Thankfully, spending two semesters as a TA for an Intro to American Government course in graduate school completely paid off. For a good 10 minutes that is. Because then the lights came back on and viola! We were back in business.

During the break between classes (I have two 80 minute pairs), my coordinator told me that someone would be coming into my room to make an announcement about student credit cards. "Okay," I said. I still would have time to show the rest of my movie and assign them homework.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 20 minutes later they are still talking about credit cards and percentages and in general making me extremely angry and puzzled. Again, the American teacher in me is just shaking her head thinking, "can't they just sit outside in the student lobby area by where they sell lunch and get people there? Why do they have to interupt classes for this? Soliciting students' business?

As such, I did not have enough time to show all of my film and I am sure that the homework that I've assigned them will not be done because they will say that they did not understand it, since we did not have adequate time to go with it.

In my heart of hearts, I knew when I was lesson planning this week that I should have provided a backup plan, but I simply did not. It just teaches me that sometimes the unexpected will happen, and instead of having a fit about it, which I did today, I should simply just breath deeply and relax. все будет хорошо.