May 21, 2007

Finally!

So finally I get to update. And here it is.

It's been awhile since I've last updated on my life. There are tons of reasons as for why. For example, I live in a town that does not have internet and the next closest town doesn't either. That alone makes this whole updating a blog to be a bit difficult. So how am I able to pull off this update? I could tell you but then it would take to long to really understand the complexities of Ukraine. Or it's really not all that interesting. So what has happened in a month? Here's the quick rundown of a month: Bonding in Ukraine. All of the PSTs spent some time getting to know each other, a bit of the language, and then being told what to do and what not to do. Getting dropped off at our PST site with our cluster mates. Yeah this is a trip and a half. Every conversation I had up to this point with someone that was questioning why I'm going popped in my head as I got off the bus. "You're doing what," they all said to me. It all made sense. You get off a bus, say hello to someone you don't know, and then they take you back to their place. In the mean time you don't understand anything they say and they don't understand you. It's one heck of an experience. Language. Hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Fortunately I have had some amazing instructors, one of whom I miss a lot, that have really pushed and helped a lot along the way. Yet, if only they had the Latin alphabet. I dream of that every night. Forget the late night trips to Taco Bell; I want my W's and J's back. The Ukrainians. They're like Americans. Well not really. I could try and judge them but in truth each one of them is different. But as a generalization, wow. Talk about hospitable. I've been stopped a few times just so they could shake my hand. It's little weird but nice. The kids are even better. Talk about being curious. I'm almost upset that there aren't any young kids in my host family. They could help me with my homework. My cluster mates. This is where it's good that I can't access the internet all the time. Some day's life is amazing here and some days it's not. Those days that aren't usually involve some drama with the cluster mates. They're good people, I mean they did join the Peace Corps, but it's like a family. Of course there is going to be issues and drama but we've gone through a lot together even though it's only a month. I can at any point say "remember that time at the airport where we were there for four hours?" or "how about that time at Roscoe's?" Sure they can drive me crazy, three women and only me...lot of estrogen, but they can keep me sane as well. It's a weird set up. Public transportation. Funny stories are bound to happen on public transportation. One of my cluster mates is "vertically challenged" and can barely reach the pole above her head, another is squished in between some babusas, I have a volunteer hugging me, and our language instructor is practically straddling another guy. All this while going down the road at 65 mph with another 30 people tightly packed next to us all. Why don't they have this in America?! Teaching in Ukrainian. I don't know the language all that well at this point. Sure if I try real hard I can ask some questions about a fair amount of things, but to teach? Regardless of my speaking abilities the Peace Corps insisted on us teaching. To be blunt, I'm actually not a bad teacher. Sure I may not understand what my students say but they seem to like me and I have a certain amount of control over the class. They may be talking bad about me but hey it doesn't matter, I don't understand Ukrainian yet. Probably should invest in a tape recorder and study what they say. Food. I miss Taco Bell. I crave crunch wrap supremes, and pinto's and cheese. Alas there are some killer dishes here in Ukraine, and no it's not kholodets. My host mom makes these killer crepes, or better known as malentsies. Which is weird because she makes these doughnut like things that she calls malentsies as well. I look forward to both of them. My opinion is still out there on sallo (spelled calo in Ukrainian). It's literally fat. Yeah I could do an entire blog on it. But all in all, smachno (spelled смачно in Ukrainian, means tastey). Story time. What would life be like without a little story time? It would be dull I say, dull. Before I left for Florida before my journey through the life as a Peace Corps Trainee I had a beard. A beautiful bushy beard. In fact some may say I looked like the Gorton Fisherman's son (by the way I miss fish sticks). Well I shaved the beard before leaving for Florida and decided I would just grow it back during PC. Well it got long and a bit bushy and the only way to keep it up was to use my Swiss Army knife. I stood in front of the mirror with a Swiss Army knife in hand and thought to myself 'this could be good or bad'. Then I looked at my hair. Man it looked long. Next day a cluster mate was talking about how her host dad gave hair cuts. So I bought a razor and off came my beard with the intent of getting a hair cut come the next day. Here's an important thing to remember while reading this. We have no internet, constantly have to buy phone cards, no news in English, some of us don't have television in general (like it matters...its all in Ukrainian or Russian), no bowling alley, no pool house, it's only us. 'He's getting his hair cut?!' Somehow me getting a hair cut became a big deal. We arrive as a group to watch me get a hair cut. Within seconds cameras are popped out of their cases, the whirring of lights start to show before even the hum of the electric razor begins. This is what its like to be the center of attention in a small Ukrainian town. The happenings of my hair style are now engrained on cameras, SIM cards, flash drives, and computers. I would feel special if the circumstances were different. In a polite but joking tone my cluster mate's father wants to know if I wanted to keep my bangs with my now buzzed hair style. Apparently me saying no please buzz it off was not enough. I had to get the affirmation from the group that yes, I would look far better without bangs. Another story while I can remember it. Easter. As my host family discovered on my first night in my small town, I'm Catholic. Not a huge deal, especially in an Orthodox dominated country. So I was actually looking forward to experiencing a country where Easter is THE event. I told my family that I would go with them on Easter to church and their activities. It's important to note that I said this on my own free will. I had no idea what was going to ensue. Early Sunday morning, really early. I was woken up at 3:30 am. My first thought, 'who died?' As I put on clothes and was rushed out the door into a small vehicle and driven to a nearby town I thought 'they are going to kill me and leave me in the woods...I'm going to die in Ukraine!' Then the car stopped at a person's house. I didn't/don't really know where I was at this point but I assumed they were picking up more people to kill the crazy American that was living in their home. I shook some hands when they were pushed in front of me and then we walked. I assumed it was my death march, it was after all 4 am. What else happens at 4 am than death marches? I wouldn't know what happens at that time because I'm usually asleep. My host sister asked if I saw the light. 'Did I miss my death,' I thought until she pointed at the other people and said 'the church light'. Then it dawned on me, it's Easter. The thoughts of Ukrainians killing me and leaving me in the woods soon changed into a joyous event that I didn't understand a word of. We walked into this elaborate, and cold, church and lit candles and listened to the choir sing. If only I could have taken a picture. As we left the church I assumed it was a mad dash home to warm up and sleep. I was wrong. I was pulled in besides what I just now figured out as the extended family and waited. I had no idea for what but all the churchgoers were surrounding the church with candles and baskets of food. 'He blesses,' my hoster sister told me. An 'ahhhhhhhhh' moment came over me, quite similar to 'it's Easter you moron.' I watched as the priest and his entourage walked the church a couple times and then noticed he was sprinkling water on everyone and they would leave. I wish I knew what was coming but as I looked up the priest had gotten closer and with a quick flip of the wrist a bucket, what appeared to be a bucket, of water was thrown at my face. I used my scarf to dry off. After my brisk early morning shower I thought the morning to be done. Alas it wasn't. Turns out there something that comes after church at 4 am. It's called eating jellied meat, dry sweet bread, and drinking vodka. As I sat down at the table with a bunch of strangers a load of different types of food was placed in front of me in which I was told to eat a sampling of each, or so I assumed that's what the hand gestures and 'eat!' commands were about. As I sat though I didn't notice the vodka being bored. A little late to refuse. I couldn't help but smile at the oddity of being served vodka at 5 am. My host sister's boyfriend thought it was funny as well, actually I think he was laughing at me, my eyes probably popped right open at the idea of drinking so early in the morning. After the feasting we drove back and all collapsed. The next few hours after sleep consisted of yet another food induced activity, followed by another nap, and then more eating. So far I firmly believe Orthodox Easter to be equivalent to America's Thanksgiving, but with religion and starting at 4 am. Another update: Victory Day! The other day, as in May 9th, Ukraine celebrated Victory Day. What is Victory Day you ask? Well I'll tell you. It's the celebration of the victory over Nazi Germany. The closest thing America has to that is D-Day celebration, which is not too big. So how does an American in a tiny Ukrainian village celebrate the victory over Nazi Germany? By going to the monument built to recognize such a thing. Makes sense doesn't it. Here's the kicker to the story, we had the day off. Still mandatory to show up but it meant I got to sleep in. Not good. With ten minutes to the opening speech my host mom was making breakfast, fried sweet cheese. I let her know in my broken, although improving, Ukrainian that I had to leave. So what does she do? Put's the hot fried sweet cheese in a plastic baggie for me. So there I was waiting in the group of oh 70 people, I said it's a small town, watching little kids hold odd numbers of bright flowers. And then there's the American, with hot fried sweet cheese. For the most part I didn't understand anything of what the speaker was saying. Sure I heard some dates but alas nothing was really settling into my head. I did quickly hear America and some reference to the number two followed again by today America. The LCF was kind enough to point out that she said that America came to aid the former Soviet Union, which included Ukraine, and now Americans are here again to aid Ukrainians. She was talking about us. At that exact moment I had one of those awesome moments. Bill and Ted moments if you will. The 'WOAH!' moment. It hit me that 60 some odd years ago my grandfather was in Europe fighting the Nazis and here I am helping an old ally, minus the death and such. Pretty cool. After the speech kids came up and presented flowers to the war veterans/nurses of the town. Really sweet. Then some kids gave what I assumed is a prepared speech, no I didn't understand it. So what came next? Why the best part of the story, a Communist. Now the old gentleman that came up to speak is probably the richest man in town. I had no idea. What I could piece together before he spoke was that he seemed rather polite. Gave up his seat for two individuals and rather sharply dressed. And when he spoke he had immense passion. I liked it. Sure I didn't understand it, but I liked it. Then out of nowhere the LCF started to make some verbal noises that showed her discontent. She didn't want to tell us what he was talking about until after the event. So when all was settled and everyone was on their way back home she stopped us and told us that the speaker was a former member of the Soviet Army, richest man in town, thinks little of the political situation in Ukraine, and is the current leader of the Communist Party in the town. Now my opinion on politics could take up an entire book, so no reason to go into it now. What really made me sit back was the fact that on this day I was with three other Americans holding a plastic baggie full of hot fried sweet cheese and I listened to a Communist talk about the good ol' days. All in all, good day for me.