It's tiring being here. I won't lie. I woke up today and had absolutely no energy. I think I'm sick. That'd explain the headache, no desire to eat, little energy, sleeping for vast amount of time, and the really runny nose. I think Ukraine is trying to kill me.
What else is there to update with? Life is complicated. I'll keep some of this on the down lo' because well it involves more than just me. But things are complicated and yet not. That itself sounds complicated. It all goes back to trying to figure out things.
I've met someone that to put it plainly, makes life interesting. I call them, they call me, and we hang out. It's a good thing. But it's complicated. Wow...my descriptions suck. But hey it all goes back to keeping some form of privacy going until it's okay to be "public". Whatever that really means. It's rough being the nice guy but someone's gotta do it.
I can say that the whole "complicated situation" has made life interesting and kind of fun. That really helps when the winter starts in November and night occurs at 4pm. That's just painful really.
I need a break from this country. I mean all through training I just kept thinking "when do I get a vacation?" It was just day in and day out of training. Yet I've gone every day since the exact same way. It's tiring.
I think tiring is my word of the day. Tiring to be nice, work, and live here. I need a break. Maybe someone will just do something really nice for me and then I'll get a good recharge. Hopefully that's something like "hey you don't have to work tomorrow" or "how about I clean your apartment for you".
I've noticed that people wear me out and sap my happiness from me. That sounds weird to say and yet weirder to notice. I guess its true though. I spend a lot of time trying to get other people to smile or do something and it just slowly drains me of energy. Thus I occassionally get cranky and unwilling to do things. At this moment...feeling like being an ass just because. But I won't...
What else is there...? Going home for sister's birthday and for Christmas. HOLLA! I'm white and I just said that, deal! I look forward to the la-z-boy, American television, and home cooked food.
Oh and there's the possibility of going to Poland when I go back. I've never been, sounds exciting and relatively close. We'll see though. Another volunteer asked to combine our trips into one. So who knows.
That's all I got at the moment. Not too intriguing but there be an update.
November 20, 2007
September 10, 2007
On with the show
Point for technology
About a month ago my zip drive stopped working. It was due to my technological savvy or the fact that the computer I was on was in Ukrainian. Sure I could look up all the technological words in Ukrainian before I hit up the internet but really I don’t feel like it. At the end of the session I attempt to safely remove my drive. No go. Feeling distressed I just pulled it out. Now, in retrospect, that was a bad thing to do. So now I have the dilemma of having no way of taking in something I wrote to the internet to send stuff out. Or so I thought.
A problem for me is that I own a Mac. I like my Mac. It’s durable, dependable, and user friendly. Only downside is that my iPod only works with the Mac. It’s only formatted FOR Macs. But while staving off boredom I found that I could put notes on my iPod and I can look at my iPod and simply retype the information. Not as easy as just using it as storage but hey, it’s something. So this is my first attempt at doing so.
Fortune favors
These are some things I’m glad I don’t have to deal with:
1. Mass Media. Oh how I hate the celebrity gossip stuff. Who really cares?
2. Fast Food. Sure I miss the easiness of driving to whatever I’m in the mood for and stuffing my face. But you lose weight when you actually have to make your own food.
3. Family issues. Sure I love my family but the pressures of the family suck. I once received an email attempting to bring me into some drama in which I simply replied back “I don’t care. I’m 5,000 miles away from everyone. Give me the decency of not trying to bring me into it”. I got another email, I may have to send something similar again.
Hot wine, shashlick, wenches…oh my!
A week ago I was eating lunch with Ezra and preparing for my unknown work week ahead. As we were getting ready to go our separate ways he told me about a Medieval Fair the coming weekend and asked if I was interested. Knowing I had nothing planned, except maybe some reading and watching movies, I said okay.
The days went by, with a slow pace. An update came, definitely Saturday. I passed along the invite to Adam, Ashley, and even Linda. They were in, except Linda. On the eve before, i.e. Friday, I got a text from Katie asking about my plans for the weekend. I let her know what I was doing and a text message came back 30 minutes later with “I’ll see you tomorrow”. An event for three people, including Ezra’s girlfriend and now included Dayna, turned into 7. Crazy Peace Corps.
The next morning I woke up with the thought of “I should just make up an excuse and not go”. But I relented and continued to get ready. Ezra let me know that he would be late, that Adam, Ashley, Dyana, and Katie would be traveling together, and we’d meet them there. An hour and a half later we were off to only God knows where. It’s a little scary going absolutely nowhere you don’t know. But by God we did it. Eventually we found our second marshruka and waiting for us was none other than the other four. As a group we headed to Tustan in the Carpathians (pronounced Two ston) where the smell of horse crap filled the air. The games began.
After a well-deserved meal of shashlick we were off to watch some dressed up knights beat each other up. That itself was worth the trip. We eventually trekked up the hill to look at the castle’s remnants and enjoyed some good picture taking. Afterwards we headed to look for the stone lake. Alas we never found it.
Through the jokes and the laughs, especially at some girl that kept making out with people, we headed out. We were of course stopped from doing so. Ezra found it first then my eyes caught it. A chance to dress up like a knight in chainmail. Only downside to it all is that the guy that put on the stuff was behind us and therefore ruined a lot of the pictures. We also hit another snag. No transport. Marshruka’s were apparently only going TO the fair and not FROM. So we broke into groups and had to hitchhike back to the main road. Unfortunately for Adam and I is that the girls, who went first, got the last marshruka to his site. We now had to play a game of risk to see if we could make it to my site before the building closes. We didn’t make it. So we had three options: hope that we could stay with another volunteer (the married couple), cough out some dough for the hostel, or stay with an American in town. Fortunately the American was cool with it.
All things considered, a good day. It was cold, fun, full of laughs and walking. I could kill for more shashlick though.
About a month ago my zip drive stopped working. It was due to my technological savvy or the fact that the computer I was on was in Ukrainian. Sure I could look up all the technological words in Ukrainian before I hit up the internet but really I don’t feel like it. At the end of the session I attempt to safely remove my drive. No go. Feeling distressed I just pulled it out. Now, in retrospect, that was a bad thing to do. So now I have the dilemma of having no way of taking in something I wrote to the internet to send stuff out. Or so I thought.
A problem for me is that I own a Mac. I like my Mac. It’s durable, dependable, and user friendly. Only downside is that my iPod only works with the Mac. It’s only formatted FOR Macs. But while staving off boredom I found that I could put notes on my iPod and I can look at my iPod and simply retype the information. Not as easy as just using it as storage but hey, it’s something. So this is my first attempt at doing so.
Fortune favors
These are some things I’m glad I don’t have to deal with:
1. Mass Media. Oh how I hate the celebrity gossip stuff. Who really cares?
2. Fast Food. Sure I miss the easiness of driving to whatever I’m in the mood for and stuffing my face. But you lose weight when you actually have to make your own food.
3. Family issues. Sure I love my family but the pressures of the family suck. I once received an email attempting to bring me into some drama in which I simply replied back “I don’t care. I’m 5,000 miles away from everyone. Give me the decency of not trying to bring me into it”. I got another email, I may have to send something similar again.
Hot wine, shashlick, wenches…oh my!
A week ago I was eating lunch with Ezra and preparing for my unknown work week ahead. As we were getting ready to go our separate ways he told me about a Medieval Fair the coming weekend and asked if I was interested. Knowing I had nothing planned, except maybe some reading and watching movies, I said okay.
The days went by, with a slow pace. An update came, definitely Saturday. I passed along the invite to Adam, Ashley, and even Linda. They were in, except Linda. On the eve before, i.e. Friday, I got a text from Katie asking about my plans for the weekend. I let her know what I was doing and a text message came back 30 minutes later with “I’ll see you tomorrow”. An event for three people, including Ezra’s girlfriend and now included Dayna, turned into 7. Crazy Peace Corps.
The next morning I woke up with the thought of “I should just make up an excuse and not go”. But I relented and continued to get ready. Ezra let me know that he would be late, that Adam, Ashley, Dyana, and Katie would be traveling together, and we’d meet them there. An hour and a half later we were off to only God knows where. It’s a little scary going absolutely nowhere you don’t know. But by God we did it. Eventually we found our second marshruka and waiting for us was none other than the other four. As a group we headed to Tustan in the Carpathians (pronounced Two ston) where the smell of horse crap filled the air. The games began.
After a well-deserved meal of shashlick we were off to watch some dressed up knights beat each other up. That itself was worth the trip. We eventually trekked up the hill to look at the castle’s remnants and enjoyed some good picture taking. Afterwards we headed to look for the stone lake. Alas we never found it.
Through the jokes and the laughs, especially at some girl that kept making out with people, we headed out. We were of course stopped from doing so. Ezra found it first then my eyes caught it. A chance to dress up like a knight in chainmail. Only downside to it all is that the guy that put on the stuff was behind us and therefore ruined a lot of the pictures. We also hit another snag. No transport. Marshruka’s were apparently only going TO the fair and not FROM. So we broke into groups and had to hitchhike back to the main road. Unfortunately for Adam and I is that the girls, who went first, got the last marshruka to his site. We now had to play a game of risk to see if we could make it to my site before the building closes. We didn’t make it. So we had three options: hope that we could stay with another volunteer (the married couple), cough out some dough for the hostel, or stay with an American in town. Fortunately the American was cool with it.
All things considered, a good day. It was cold, fun, full of laughs and walking. I could kill for more shashlick though.
September 5, 2007
Dear Lord...
At some point in training, I forgot where exactly, we all sat down with one of the PC doctors to talk about emotional health. Having scoured the internet for information on Peace Corps before departure I realized that "yes life would suck at some point". So the thought of this part of training was expected. In a nutshell we were told that "yes life will suck at some point".
It seems life hit that mark of suckiness here and there. I was positively ecstatic on Monday. New apartment seemed possible, had a package waiting for me, a new and better tutor (though keeping the old one as well), just in general life seemed positively better. Life likes to take a turn of events. For instance I've learned a very important thing. I do not like Ukrainian laws on post. I'm sure they are protecting themselves, and rightfully so, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
In order to send a package to Ukraine you cannot (CANNOT) have the name AND business organization on the package. Where was that during training? I've seen three packages be sent back to America. Today I got to see what I was not allowed to have. A baseball mitt, two baseballs, my Solio charger, cashews, and beef jerky. All were shown to me then bundled up and sent back to America. What makes it worse is that I had to pay 50 hrvn for it too. It was like torture.
On a brighter bud odd side of events. I don't have a weekend free until October 16th. In fact there are some things going on the exact same time. Not a big fan of that. Do I go cross country to see a pig slaughtered and eat it? Or do I go and help out with a softball program that I want to bring to my site? Do I skip a birthday party in my oblast to head to Kyiv to meet people? No idea. It's good to have things to do on the weekends, but really...no idea what to choose. Atleast this weekend I have a birthday party, Medieval fair, and a trip to Kyiv all lined up.
Ukrainian handshakes
Here are some guidelines to know when dealing with Ukrainian men (women need not worry as this does not affect you):
1) Men do not shake women's hands. You'll get laughed at, like I did.
2) Every time you greet or say good bye you must shake hands.
3) Every man you meet, even if you only know one of them, you must shake their hand.
4) The handshake must be firm otherwise you'll be made fun of, hasn't happened to me yet.
5) Never shake hands under a doorway. It's bad luck. It means a rooster will eat your mother. Actually I've no idea why it's bad luck but don't do it.
6) Never try to shake hands with something on your hands. It's offensive.
7) Don't worry if your hands are dirty. Shake anyway.
These rules are now embedded into my skull. In fact when I meet an American friend we always shake hands.
It seems life hit that mark of suckiness here and there. I was positively ecstatic on Monday. New apartment seemed possible, had a package waiting for me, a new and better tutor (though keeping the old one as well), just in general life seemed positively better. Life likes to take a turn of events. For instance I've learned a very important thing. I do not like Ukrainian laws on post. I'm sure they are protecting themselves, and rightfully so, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
In order to send a package to Ukraine you cannot (CANNOT) have the name AND business organization on the package. Where was that during training? I've seen three packages be sent back to America. Today I got to see what I was not allowed to have. A baseball mitt, two baseballs, my Solio charger, cashews, and beef jerky. All were shown to me then bundled up and sent back to America. What makes it worse is that I had to pay 50 hrvn for it too. It was like torture.
On a brighter bud odd side of events. I don't have a weekend free until October 16th. In fact there are some things going on the exact same time. Not a big fan of that. Do I go cross country to see a pig slaughtered and eat it? Or do I go and help out with a softball program that I want to bring to my site? Do I skip a birthday party in my oblast to head to Kyiv to meet people? No idea. It's good to have things to do on the weekends, but really...no idea what to choose. Atleast this weekend I have a birthday party, Medieval fair, and a trip to Kyiv all lined up.
Ukrainian handshakes
Here are some guidelines to know when dealing with Ukrainian men (women need not worry as this does not affect you):
1) Men do not shake women's hands. You'll get laughed at, like I did.
2) Every time you greet or say good bye you must shake hands.
3) Every man you meet, even if you only know one of them, you must shake their hand.
4) The handshake must be firm otherwise you'll be made fun of, hasn't happened to me yet.
5) Never shake hands under a doorway. It's bad luck. It means a rooster will eat your mother. Actually I've no idea why it's bad luck but don't do it.
6) Never try to shake hands with something on your hands. It's offensive.
7) Don't worry if your hands are dirty. Shake anyway.
These rules are now embedded into my skull. In fact when I meet an American friend we always shake hands.
September 1, 2007
Personal Day
Some days suck. I think that's an easy way to identify off days. The past few days have been off days. These were due to an increase in speculation at my ability to teach ecology in Ukrainian to high school/early college students. I can't teach ecology in English. So naturally I'm freaked.
Add that with other stress factors...I took a personal day(s...two really). What did I do? Watched tv series on my laptop, ate whatever I had in my room, and only left to shower and to use the bathroom. Naturally my room looked...well really bad. I put my phone on lights only, meaning no sound at all, and have only talked with a couple people (by talk I mean two quick text messages). Probably would've been zero if it didn't include someone that's helping me with ecology lessons and the other with an apartment.
The mere realm of what I'm doing here has caught up and it's overwhelming. Plus I feel like the people I'm closest to are nowhere near me, so naturally it feels a bit lonely (that's an understatement). But I keep on trekking.
I think I'll take another "personal day". I mean what good am I to any one if I just want to snap at them. But I think I'm safe. I've only had one person call me in three days and my only emails are from the family.
It's like a sign saying "do nothing...now's a good time to go unnoticed".
On Supermarkets
There are supermarkets located in Ukraine, it is not Africa folks...they have stuff, and I have to argue that I have the best. Not only do they sell peanut butter, only bought to give to someone though, but they also sell random crap. It's like Super Target but smaller. My only wish is that they sold MATCHES! Which is kind of pointless. I bought matches but turns out that the kitchen in my dorm doesn't even work. Fantastic. But back to the point of my fantastic supermarket. They sell everything and make it nearly pointless to go to the food bazaar. Which to be honest I don't enjoy going to anyway because they sell meat in the "indoors" part and frankly I could never buy meat there. It almost drives me to want to be a vegetarian. Not really though.
Add that with other stress factors...I took a personal day(s...two really). What did I do? Watched tv series on my laptop, ate whatever I had in my room, and only left to shower and to use the bathroom. Naturally my room looked...well really bad. I put my phone on lights only, meaning no sound at all, and have only talked with a couple people (by talk I mean two quick text messages). Probably would've been zero if it didn't include someone that's helping me with ecology lessons and the other with an apartment.
The mere realm of what I'm doing here has caught up and it's overwhelming. Plus I feel like the people I'm closest to are nowhere near me, so naturally it feels a bit lonely (that's an understatement). But I keep on trekking.
I think I'll take another "personal day". I mean what good am I to any one if I just want to snap at them. But I think I'm safe. I've only had one person call me in three days and my only emails are from the family.
It's like a sign saying "do nothing...now's a good time to go unnoticed".
On Supermarkets
There are supermarkets located in Ukraine, it is not Africa folks...they have stuff, and I have to argue that I have the best. Not only do they sell peanut butter, only bought to give to someone though, but they also sell random crap. It's like Super Target but smaller. My only wish is that they sold MATCHES! Which is kind of pointless. I bought matches but turns out that the kitchen in my dorm doesn't even work. Fantastic. But back to the point of my fantastic supermarket. They sell everything and make it nearly pointless to go to the food bazaar. Which to be honest I don't enjoy going to anyway because they sell meat in the "indoors" part and frankly I could never buy meat there. It almost drives me to want to be a vegetarian. Not really though.
August 30, 2007
It’s rough
I can’t lie or make it easy for those that read this thinking “what is it really like”. I can’t buff it up to those that are inspired that they have a friend that’s serving. I can’t even entertain the family and friends that read this. Well at the moment I can’t.
I get the feeling I get kicked around a lot in this country. Not on purpose or God’s will. But a general feeling of getting kicked around. Whether it’s trouble locating housing, wanting to get my point across in another language, or just eating food that I want to eat. Two weeks ago…was rough. When I thought that it just couldn’t break down more it did and part of me is still reeling from that. Whether it’s major or minor, still dealing with it. So three days ago I thought I was in heaven.
A good day in the U.S. is hard to find. Some days just melt into the next and seem a bit mediocre. But here you see, you don’t know what you wake up to. You may wake up in with an amazing spirit and the day may go just the way you want. Or you may have to fend off all the bad that attacks you from around the corner in the store, the center, or God forbid the person that walks in on you showering. Then there are bad days where you can’t imagine that the day is getting better or that it is somehow, beyond belief, getting worse.
But three days ago I knew it was a good day. I felt it in my bones. I woke up and I felt enthused. I felt as though there was life to be had. Of course I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my tutor but I had life in me. I had friends in town, I was getting packages, and there was a glimmer of hope that I’d find an apartment. Nothing could ruin the day as soon as I was given two packages. I about cried in front of my director, could barely keep from opening them as well. And it happened. The day went downhill. I fought, I seriously fought off the badness with what I thought was my positive stick. Didn’t work. It was like fighting an army of zombies with a wiffle bat. But that’s how it’s supposed to be right? Challenging?
Complaints and Discussion
I had been told that Peace Corps Volunteers talk about sex, food, and poop. Occasionally all in the same conversation. I can now confirm that yes, yes we do. In fact I should probably check on someone to find out how their poop came along (don’t ask). But in the middle of a conversation with someone I was told the following thing that made me rethink some things. They said that they complain about real things that they can’t change and I complain about things I can. Now this person is right but not fair in the judgment.
I hate having to think about the things I can’t change. I hate talking about the stuff that’s deep inside to people. I’d rather keep it all in and focus on the things that I have control over. And once I fix one of those things I have to have something else. I have to. I have to have that control to not feel so helpless, so powerless. I can’t help that I want to keep those major things in. So yes, I complain about some things I can do to fix my life but for reason.
You’re never really aware of these character flaws of yourself until all you have is time. Lots and lots of time. Time to ponder life, meaning, feelings, and the ineptitude of the U.S. government. So much time to think about who you are and what you want to be or do. It’s a scary thing this time.
Story
I hate traveling. This hasn’t always been the case. I liked the outcome of traveling more than anything. Meeting that final destination and just having a moment to go “yeah…I’m there”. Recently, and I hope not permanently, I have started to hate traveling. The main reason was due to my recent dental work and the six trips on the train. Now Ukrainian trains are not well…great. They are rather cheap and somewhat reliable, I’d say reliable but that four hour trip I took once turned into seven.
But once upon a rather tiring trip back to Kyiv, after having spent 22 hours at my site from a train ride to it, I was attempting sleep at 11:30 pm. Who joins my cabin? A Bulgarian, Lithuanian, and a Ukrainian. To be fair the Ukrainian guy was there only to put his stuff down, for that’s all I saw of him. The other two ladies, being polite now, were wasted. I mean they were gone and apparently spoke English. So when they spoke Russian, which of course I don’t know, and I threw out Ukrainian they naturally figured out I was foreign. Ahhh…English…how I shouldn’t have said anything in it. For the next two hours the two…drunken ladies…wanted to talk in English.
Needless to say I would’ve moved if for one thing didn’t happen, they brought in the conductor to get drunk. I took it like a champ I thought. I attempted sleep while they partied the next couple hours before getting a refreshing 2 hours of sleep.
For the record, I was polite though I was plotting their death for four hours. Still A for effort though right?
I can’t lie or make it easy for those that read this thinking “what is it really like”. I can’t buff it up to those that are inspired that they have a friend that’s serving. I can’t even entertain the family and friends that read this. Well at the moment I can’t.
I get the feeling I get kicked around a lot in this country. Not on purpose or God’s will. But a general feeling of getting kicked around. Whether it’s trouble locating housing, wanting to get my point across in another language, or just eating food that I want to eat. Two weeks ago…was rough. When I thought that it just couldn’t break down more it did and part of me is still reeling from that. Whether it’s major or minor, still dealing with it. So three days ago I thought I was in heaven.
A good day in the U.S. is hard to find. Some days just melt into the next and seem a bit mediocre. But here you see, you don’t know what you wake up to. You may wake up in with an amazing spirit and the day may go just the way you want. Or you may have to fend off all the bad that attacks you from around the corner in the store, the center, or God forbid the person that walks in on you showering. Then there are bad days where you can’t imagine that the day is getting better or that it is somehow, beyond belief, getting worse.
But three days ago I knew it was a good day. I felt it in my bones. I woke up and I felt enthused. I felt as though there was life to be had. Of course I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my tutor but I had life in me. I had friends in town, I was getting packages, and there was a glimmer of hope that I’d find an apartment. Nothing could ruin the day as soon as I was given two packages. I about cried in front of my director, could barely keep from opening them as well. And it happened. The day went downhill. I fought, I seriously fought off the badness with what I thought was my positive stick. Didn’t work. It was like fighting an army of zombies with a wiffle bat. But that’s how it’s supposed to be right? Challenging?
Complaints and Discussion
I had been told that Peace Corps Volunteers talk about sex, food, and poop. Occasionally all in the same conversation. I can now confirm that yes, yes we do. In fact I should probably check on someone to find out how their poop came along (don’t ask). But in the middle of a conversation with someone I was told the following thing that made me rethink some things. They said that they complain about real things that they can’t change and I complain about things I can. Now this person is right but not fair in the judgment.
I hate having to think about the things I can’t change. I hate talking about the stuff that’s deep inside to people. I’d rather keep it all in and focus on the things that I have control over. And once I fix one of those things I have to have something else. I have to. I have to have that control to not feel so helpless, so powerless. I can’t help that I want to keep those major things in. So yes, I complain about some things I can do to fix my life but for reason.
You’re never really aware of these character flaws of yourself until all you have is time. Lots and lots of time. Time to ponder life, meaning, feelings, and the ineptitude of the U.S. government. So much time to think about who you are and what you want to be or do. It’s a scary thing this time.
Story
I hate traveling. This hasn’t always been the case. I liked the outcome of traveling more than anything. Meeting that final destination and just having a moment to go “yeah…I’m there”. Recently, and I hope not permanently, I have started to hate traveling. The main reason was due to my recent dental work and the six trips on the train. Now Ukrainian trains are not well…great. They are rather cheap and somewhat reliable, I’d say reliable but that four hour trip I took once turned into seven.
But once upon a rather tiring trip back to Kyiv, after having spent 22 hours at my site from a train ride to it, I was attempting sleep at 11:30 pm. Who joins my cabin? A Bulgarian, Lithuanian, and a Ukrainian. To be fair the Ukrainian guy was there only to put his stuff down, for that’s all I saw of him. The other two ladies, being polite now, were wasted. I mean they were gone and apparently spoke English. So when they spoke Russian, which of course I don’t know, and I threw out Ukrainian they naturally figured out I was foreign. Ahhh…English…how I shouldn’t have said anything in it. For the next two hours the two…drunken ladies…wanted to talk in English.
Needless to say I would’ve moved if for one thing didn’t happen, they brought in the conductor to get drunk. I took it like a champ I thought. I attempted sleep while they partied the next couple hours before getting a refreshing 2 hours of sleep.
For the record, I was polite though I was plotting their death for four hours. Still A for effort though right?
August 8, 2007
An old update
Wrote this awhile ago...issues arised...like getting it approved and just waited a bit before now. Here's the old update. Lot more has happened but enjoy:
Explanation of Change
I really wanted to have a well-kept and updated blog for all to see. So people could understand the true nature of being a Peace Corps Trainee/Volunteer. I know by reading through blogs I felt a sense of connection to the individual. I wept when they struggled, I laughed at their jokes. I felt the pain that they experienced just by reading. I wanted that connection to run through with this blog. Sadly it's hard to keep a blog updated when getting to the internet is so rough. Fortunately now that I am at site I know where the internet cafes are. I just have to have them checked before I can really send them off to be viewed by everyone.
So I promise to try and keep life here updated and kept in perspective.
A brief update from the last time I wrote. Life got harder. I think that's an understatement really. Where did I last leave off? Oh! With the Fascist and cheese. After that event I remembered being just…sad. It hit me that I wanted to share the story in person with my friends, to see their faces, and enjoy the humor with them. And it hit me that I felt so disconnected with my group. Three females PCTs, female language instructor, and female technical instructor. I felt more alone at that moment then I have ever experienced in my lifetime. I wanted to quit. I was fully packed. I didn't tell anyone in my group that I was going to leave. All that was left was the phone call after the service that day. What stopped me? A conversation.
I sat down with one of my group mates and let out my frustration. That I indeed felt so by myself and alone. They told me that they were hurt and that I was their best friend there. It put everything into perspective. I had finally cracked and she had put me right. Not by beating me down or giving me a guilt trip. But making me realize that I was a moron and to see life in front of me.
I unpacked.
Time came and went with language, technical, and finally came site placement. A quick description for those that are in the "what is my friend doing here?" realm of thought. Those interested in the Peace Corps will undoubtedly know what I mean. All of Group 32 gathered for lunch and then the waiting game. As we crammed into the conference hall a brief lecture was given that some of us would be instantly crushed by our placements and some would be overjoyed. But that our placement would indeed need us to make things happen. At this point a much simpler version of the accounts: each regional manager gave the title of the work site, the location, and who was invited to it. A poor man's The Price of Right really.
After the event some were all smiles, myself included. And some…not so much. The next day we left for site visits. On return from site we all experienced what I like to call as "too much time in a hole" or a lot of sessions that were far from helpful. Then it was back to the world we knew it, our training site. At this point I can say that training came to a speeding and hurtling end. Language lessons were harder, summer camp took our energy, and the thought of packing and leaving scared us all.
Nothing can really describe what I'm about to say. Only those that have experienced it or will one day experience it will know what I mean. Leaving training site is the most daunting, challenging, and frightful experience you can imagine. It is the process of leaving a newly established comfort zone for the opportunity to wallow in the unknown. The mere thought of leaving is exciting and befuddling. I can seldom count the nights I worried about that day. It was worse than I could imagine.
After several days of unjoyous times in sessions we were off. Off to what we all didn't know. We just knew it was us, by ourselves, that led the way. Being dropped off in the beginning of training was difficult, worrisome, and overall scary. This was worse. We had no English speaker there. No American retelling stories about who they voted for in 2004 or what they used to buy at American Eagle. Nothing awaited us. No back up. No helping hand. Just you. You in a foreign land, foreign food, and two years. It still haunts me.
In America I would drive the 15 minutes to a friends apartment just to hang out for an hour or so. When I heard that a friend was coming up an hour by bus to see my site I walked a good 45 minutes just to see them. My knee and ankle have taken the toll of seeing friends, and its worth it. Tears swell up just hearing an English phrase. Your heart skips a beat when someone knows a bit of English. It's a hardship one can barely imagine. No matter where you live in this country, you feel the loneliness, the boredom, depression, and that deep desire to be wanted and felt for in some way. It's an overwhelming feeling. I read about it, I thought about it, and now I live it.
Countdown
Home is where the heart is. I heard this before. I never fully understood it. I took stabs at it in college when going to my parent's home for holiday breaks. Here I am. In another country and I've no idea where home is.
Is it in Indiana where my parents live? Is it in Florida where my friend wants me to live? Is it here in the "Florence of the east"? I don't know. But I can tell you that it's not with my host family.
Host families are a special breed in humanity. They take in someone that can't speak their language all that well, helps them, guides them, and watches them grow into some awkward human that slightly understands their culture.
I'm fortunate this time around to see my host father, who attempts to be a Mr. Mom when no female is around. At one interval, last week, I had hurt my knee from an exceptionally large amount of walking in dress shoes. Upon hearing this he came in my room with some cream and rubbed my knee. Most. Awkward. Experience.
With my host sister is the remnants of the 80's in America. I mean this with deep pride in my generation, though it doesn't sound like it. She has the appearance that she will be watching Rainbow Bright on Saturday. I like it. One aspect about where I live is that I am well aware of the luxuries I am allowed to "endure". Their house is far bigger than my parents house, they have a sauna, and a guard dog that I've lovingly nicknamed Harry. Truth be told I can't pronounce the dog's name at all and Harry sounds close, and yes it's a she. Although I have these luxuries available they are also a hindrance. For me to leave the house requires a lot of effort. Someone to unlock the doors, put up the dog, turn off the alarm, and open the gate. So what's the countdown for? An apartment.
It's a coveted thing by PCVs to have their own place. Their own time to eat, what to eat, when to sleep, where to go, etc. I eagerly await such experience.
Human Frogger
I grew up with Nintendo, Sega Genesis, Playstation, etc. But the first gaming system my family had was the Intellivision. Which truth be told had one game I liked, Masters of the Universe. But my best friend's family had an Atari.
One afternoon I was at his house and he had to leave with his mom for some reason. So I sat in his bedroom playing Frogger. People came and went out of the house and I made little to no noise and went unnoticed. Finally he returned, which surprised his dad that I was there, and saw me still playing. The first comment out of my mouth was "I can't get the damn frog across the road".
Why's that story important?
For me to exist in my host site I must play Human Frogger. Unfortunately it's with my life and there are no resets. This is a certain downside to my time here. To go to the center, school, meet someone, etc., I must cross the street that contains cars, trucks, motorbikes, tramvies (think trolleys), mashrukas, autobuses, buses, delivery trucks, etc. It is a hassle that bears down on you on the bad days, like today. It rains, I've no umbrella, and nearly got hit by three vehicles. Normally that'd freak someone out but today was a good day, only three. Other volunteers that experience this when they visit ask me how I deal and my only response is "you just do". Plus other volunteers here have grown quite used to it and know exactly which street to take because it has less traffic. I'm working on that one.
Explanation of Change
I really wanted to have a well-kept and updated blog for all to see. So people could understand the true nature of being a Peace Corps Trainee/Volunteer. I know by reading through blogs I felt a sense of connection to the individual. I wept when they struggled, I laughed at their jokes. I felt the pain that they experienced just by reading. I wanted that connection to run through with this blog. Sadly it's hard to keep a blog updated when getting to the internet is so rough. Fortunately now that I am at site I know where the internet cafes are. I just have to have them checked before I can really send them off to be viewed by everyone.
So I promise to try and keep life here updated and kept in perspective.
A brief update from the last time I wrote. Life got harder. I think that's an understatement really. Where did I last leave off? Oh! With the Fascist and cheese. After that event I remembered being just…sad. It hit me that I wanted to share the story in person with my friends, to see their faces, and enjoy the humor with them. And it hit me that I felt so disconnected with my group. Three females PCTs, female language instructor, and female technical instructor. I felt more alone at that moment then I have ever experienced in my lifetime. I wanted to quit. I was fully packed. I didn't tell anyone in my group that I was going to leave. All that was left was the phone call after the service that day. What stopped me? A conversation.
I sat down with one of my group mates and let out my frustration. That I indeed felt so by myself and alone. They told me that they were hurt and that I was their best friend there. It put everything into perspective. I had finally cracked and she had put me right. Not by beating me down or giving me a guilt trip. But making me realize that I was a moron and to see life in front of me.
I unpacked.
Time came and went with language, technical, and finally came site placement. A quick description for those that are in the "what is my friend doing here?" realm of thought. Those interested in the Peace Corps will undoubtedly know what I mean. All of Group 32 gathered for lunch and then the waiting game. As we crammed into the conference hall a brief lecture was given that some of us would be instantly crushed by our placements and some would be overjoyed. But that our placement would indeed need us to make things happen. At this point a much simpler version of the accounts: each regional manager gave the title of the work site, the location, and who was invited to it. A poor man's The Price of Right really.
After the event some were all smiles, myself included. And some…not so much. The next day we left for site visits. On return from site we all experienced what I like to call as "too much time in a hole" or a lot of sessions that were far from helpful. Then it was back to the world we knew it, our training site. At this point I can say that training came to a speeding and hurtling end. Language lessons were harder, summer camp took our energy, and the thought of packing and leaving scared us all.
Nothing can really describe what I'm about to say. Only those that have experienced it or will one day experience it will know what I mean. Leaving training site is the most daunting, challenging, and frightful experience you can imagine. It is the process of leaving a newly established comfort zone for the opportunity to wallow in the unknown. The mere thought of leaving is exciting and befuddling. I can seldom count the nights I worried about that day. It was worse than I could imagine.
After several days of unjoyous times in sessions we were off. Off to what we all didn't know. We just knew it was us, by ourselves, that led the way. Being dropped off in the beginning of training was difficult, worrisome, and overall scary. This was worse. We had no English speaker there. No American retelling stories about who they voted for in 2004 or what they used to buy at American Eagle. Nothing awaited us. No back up. No helping hand. Just you. You in a foreign land, foreign food, and two years. It still haunts me.
In America I would drive the 15 minutes to a friends apartment just to hang out for an hour or so. When I heard that a friend was coming up an hour by bus to see my site I walked a good 45 minutes just to see them. My knee and ankle have taken the toll of seeing friends, and its worth it. Tears swell up just hearing an English phrase. Your heart skips a beat when someone knows a bit of English. It's a hardship one can barely imagine. No matter where you live in this country, you feel the loneliness, the boredom, depression, and that deep desire to be wanted and felt for in some way. It's an overwhelming feeling. I read about it, I thought about it, and now I live it.
Countdown
Home is where the heart is. I heard this before. I never fully understood it. I took stabs at it in college when going to my parent's home for holiday breaks. Here I am. In another country and I've no idea where home is.
Is it in Indiana where my parents live? Is it in Florida where my friend wants me to live? Is it here in the "Florence of the east"? I don't know. But I can tell you that it's not with my host family.
Host families are a special breed in humanity. They take in someone that can't speak their language all that well, helps them, guides them, and watches them grow into some awkward human that slightly understands their culture.
I'm fortunate this time around to see my host father, who attempts to be a Mr. Mom when no female is around. At one interval, last week, I had hurt my knee from an exceptionally large amount of walking in dress shoes. Upon hearing this he came in my room with some cream and rubbed my knee. Most. Awkward. Experience.
With my host sister is the remnants of the 80's in America. I mean this with deep pride in my generation, though it doesn't sound like it. She has the appearance that she will be watching Rainbow Bright on Saturday. I like it. One aspect about where I live is that I am well aware of the luxuries I am allowed to "endure". Their house is far bigger than my parents house, they have a sauna, and a guard dog that I've lovingly nicknamed Harry. Truth be told I can't pronounce the dog's name at all and Harry sounds close, and yes it's a she. Although I have these luxuries available they are also a hindrance. For me to leave the house requires a lot of effort. Someone to unlock the doors, put up the dog, turn off the alarm, and open the gate. So what's the countdown for? An apartment.
It's a coveted thing by PCVs to have their own place. Their own time to eat, what to eat, when to sleep, where to go, etc. I eagerly await such experience.
Human Frogger
I grew up with Nintendo, Sega Genesis, Playstation, etc. But the first gaming system my family had was the Intellivision. Which truth be told had one game I liked, Masters of the Universe. But my best friend's family had an Atari.
One afternoon I was at his house and he had to leave with his mom for some reason. So I sat in his bedroom playing Frogger. People came and went out of the house and I made little to no noise and went unnoticed. Finally he returned, which surprised his dad that I was there, and saw me still playing. The first comment out of my mouth was "I can't get the damn frog across the road".
Why's that story important?
For me to exist in my host site I must play Human Frogger. Unfortunately it's with my life and there are no resets. This is a certain downside to my time here. To go to the center, school, meet someone, etc., I must cross the street that contains cars, trucks, motorbikes, tramvies (think trolleys), mashrukas, autobuses, buses, delivery trucks, etc. It is a hassle that bears down on you on the bad days, like today. It rains, I've no umbrella, and nearly got hit by three vehicles. Normally that'd freak someone out but today was a good day, only three. Other volunteers that experience this when they visit ask me how I deal and my only response is "you just do". Plus other volunteers here have grown quite used to it and know exactly which street to take because it has less traffic. I'm working on that one.
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.
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.
March 27, 2007
Staging take three
"Shit or get off the pot"
Life scares the hell out of me. The general fact that you can walk down the street and get hit by a car, random person, an animal, or debris from a falling airplane is scary shit. And later today I leave the country for two years. Live in a country where I literally don't know any of the language (do certain foods count?), none of the customs, and the only real similarity is my faith.
So why am I ready to head out into the great unknown if its scary? Why am I so ready to just give it a shot? Because it feels right. It feels good. 99% of the time we go against that great unknown. Common sense kicks in. The logical mind flickers on in a normally irrational human being. We just ignore the thought and go "I wish I could do that". But eventually we get to the point where its "shit or get off the pot".
That happens far too often in life. If nothing else this trip and this experience has taught me to actually listen to that "scary" thought. I don't want to live in that day to day bubble. I don't want to not try because of fear. I WANT to try. I want to give it my all and never look back and wonder why I was such a moron.
I've already done something like that. I already went out on a limb. A pretty high up and risky limb. Threw caution to the wind and for once spoke out completely. Did it turn out well? No. But thats okay. Because it's ME who's doing this. Not everyone else. To ask anyone to do the same is unfair. But I don't regret going on that limb and just saying "Here I am". Besides in 24 hours I'll be in Germany before I arrive in Kyiv. Maybe I need to learn how to say "Here I am" in Russian.
So besides my babble about shitting on the pot or leaving it, last night all of us went out to eat and to drink. Which was an amazing time, short for me, yet still amazing. Yet it makes me sad that in a short time we'll be split up into smaller groups. I wish I could pick my group. Though everyone is pretty cool.
And here's how we handle the idea of leaving the country for two years:
Life scares the hell out of me. The general fact that you can walk down the street and get hit by a car, random person, an animal, or debris from a falling airplane is scary shit. And later today I leave the country for two years. Live in a country where I literally don't know any of the language (do certain foods count?), none of the customs, and the only real similarity is my faith.
So why am I ready to head out into the great unknown if its scary? Why am I so ready to just give it a shot? Because it feels right. It feels good. 99% of the time we go against that great unknown. Common sense kicks in. The logical mind flickers on in a normally irrational human being. We just ignore the thought and go "I wish I could do that". But eventually we get to the point where its "shit or get off the pot".
That happens far too often in life. If nothing else this trip and this experience has taught me to actually listen to that "scary" thought. I don't want to live in that day to day bubble. I don't want to not try because of fear. I WANT to try. I want to give it my all and never look back and wonder why I was such a moron.
I've already done something like that. I already went out on a limb. A pretty high up and risky limb. Threw caution to the wind and for once spoke out completely. Did it turn out well? No. But thats okay. Because it's ME who's doing this. Not everyone else. To ask anyone to do the same is unfair. But I don't regret going on that limb and just saying "Here I am". Besides in 24 hours I'll be in Germany before I arrive in Kyiv. Maybe I need to learn how to say "Here I am" in Russian.
So besides my babble about shitting on the pot or leaving it, last night all of us went out to eat and to drink. Which was an amazing time, short for me, yet still amazing. Yet it makes me sad that in a short time we'll be split up into smaller groups. I wish I could pick my group. Though everyone is pretty cool.
And here's how we handle the idea of leaving the country for two years:
March 26, 2007
Staging take two
Yesterday was interesting. I didn't have a whole lot of time to go into detail about what all happened because of two things:
I was on the phone while typing (yay multitasking)
I was eager to do some other stuff and not just sit around and type.
Needless to say the airport experience, rushed goodbye, and flight took a lot out of me. Oh and don't forget the small amount of sleep that took place on a couch.
Last night "we" went out to dinner. We being pretty much everyone. Since no one knows each other it was an odd yet fun experience. What made it more fun was that some of us decided to go drinking. Ahhh drinking with new people. Its a great socializer.
I made a bad choice in deciding to have another shot of vodka shortly before we left the bar.
I will like these people. Sure I may not know them and I may not totally get them. But I'll like them. They're funny, smart, rather easy going, and up for almost anything.
Just yesterday we were breaking down stereotypes of Americans. Well they were, I was putting them up. Let me explain. One volunteer, lets call him Steve, told me that he heard Indiana was just a flat state...I corrected him. Then one person, lets call them Sara (there were a few of them), said that Iowa was part of the midwest. I disagreed. A lot. It was funny to me. But really in typing it I've found that its not.
Today's adventures relies on all of us being able to stay awake and in tune to what is going on.
I see that as a challenge. You would too after all the drinking that took place.
I was on the phone while typing (yay multitasking)
I was eager to do some other stuff and not just sit around and type.
Needless to say the airport experience, rushed goodbye, and flight took a lot out of me. Oh and don't forget the small amount of sleep that took place on a couch.
Last night "we" went out to dinner. We being pretty much everyone. Since no one knows each other it was an odd yet fun experience. What made it more fun was that some of us decided to go drinking. Ahhh drinking with new people. Its a great socializer.
I made a bad choice in deciding to have another shot of vodka shortly before we left the bar.
I will like these people. Sure I may not know them and I may not totally get them. But I'll like them. They're funny, smart, rather easy going, and up for almost anything.
Just yesterday we were breaking down stereotypes of Americans. Well they were, I was putting them up. Let me explain. One volunteer, lets call him Steve, told me that he heard Indiana was just a flat state...I corrected him. Then one person, lets call them Sara (there were a few of them), said that Iowa was part of the midwest. I disagreed. A lot. It was funny to me. But really in typing it I've found that its not.
Today's adventures relies on all of us being able to stay awake and in tune to what is going on.
I see that as a challenge. You would too after all the drinking that took place.
March 25, 2007
Staging take one
The word of the day is "almost".
1. Almost crapped my pants.
More about my bowel movement than you care to know. But I was in a long long long looooooong line and had to use the bathroom and had to high tail it to another terminal.
2. Almost lost my laptop.
Upon finally getting checked in I had to go through security in like 3 minutes. They couldn't understand my backpack. Upon it finally going through I grabbed it and ran to the gate. Totally forgot my laptop and someone acted as my angel and brought it to the plane.
3. Almost didn't make the plane.
This is the biggie. We (another 20 folks) barely made the flight and had to leave late.
And now I'm about to pass out at the hotel before orientation/staging.
1. Almost crapped my pants.
More about my bowel movement than you care to know. But I was in a long long long looooooong line and had to use the bathroom and had to high tail it to another terminal.
2. Almost lost my laptop.
Upon finally getting checked in I had to go through security in like 3 minutes. They couldn't understand my backpack. Upon it finally going through I grabbed it and ran to the gate. Totally forgot my laptop and someone acted as my angel and brought it to the plane.
3. Almost didn't make the plane.
This is the biggie. We (another 20 folks) barely made the flight and had to leave late.
And now I'm about to pass out at the hotel before orientation/staging.
March 20, 2007
Packing
Ever try to pack two years into two bags and one carry on?! It's not working oh so well. I mean really...100 lbs and 2 bags. I gave it a shot today. Unfortunately I had shoes at the bottom that went right into my lower back.
I'll try again later tonight. Hopefully I'll figure something out.
I'll try again later tonight. Hopefully I'll figure something out.
March 15, 2007
Power of Attorney
I have my forms filled out, minus being notarized and recorded. Somehow this entire thing is taking way too much effort. I had to call my bank who said prosecutor, prosecutor said clerk, clerk said recorder, recorder said get it notarized and then they'd record it. So now I have to call my bank to see if they'll notarize it. Good lord...
CRAP!
The days are going by WAY too quickly. I've got a fair amount to do in preparation to going to Ukraine. I mean I've yet to move back into my parents house. I've not packed, though I plan on it soon. I need to add my mom to my bank account. Set up a power of attorney, maybe I'll do that today. Here's hoping.
But in my defense..I've been hanging out with friends and its all starting to settle in. I'm leaving soon. For two years. You can't come with me.
Scary...I know once I pack I'll post up what I decided to take. You know...the penultimate packing list. On that note I did pack my backpack for a trip to Florida this weekend, I know I know...why not be more productive?!, and it turned out I can fit four days in my backpack.
I've a feeling that I'll be coming down to the wire in preparation....we'll see.
Oh and mad props to Ashley for posting on my blog. It always amazes me when people reply to this. Why? I've no idea. Its like getting a letter in the mail.
But in my defense..I've been hanging out with friends and its all starting to settle in. I'm leaving soon. For two years. You can't come with me.
Scary...I know once I pack I'll post up what I decided to take. You know...the penultimate packing list. On that note I did pack my backpack for a trip to Florida this weekend, I know I know...why not be more productive?!, and it turned out I can fit four days in my backpack.
I've a feeling that I'll be coming down to the wire in preparation....we'll see.
Oh and mad props to Ashley for posting on my blog. It always amazes me when people reply to this. Why? I've no idea. Its like getting a letter in the mail.
March 10, 2007
I get by
Yesterday was my last day of work. It was glorious. Actually it was boring. I sat in a chair the entire time and did really nothing. I even had time to go home and have an hour and a half lunch then surf the net for a couple hours. I was not missed. Such is the way. But they took a lot of work that I would've done awhile ago. Thats what happens when someone is leaving. Oh well.
Today is the day I should start freaking out. I mean in two weeks I need to get a power of attorney set up, do some financial stuff, buy a duffel bag, visit Bloomington, have a great time in Florida, and somehow pack for two years.
The freaking out will begin later. Tonight I eat, drink, and be merry!
Today is the day I should start freaking out. I mean in two weeks I need to get a power of attorney set up, do some financial stuff, buy a duffel bag, visit Bloomington, have a great time in Florida, and somehow pack for two years.
The freaking out will begin later. Tonight I eat, drink, and be merry!
March 5, 2007
Holy Poop!
No I'm not going to discuss the bowel movements of Pope Benedict XVI (or Benny 1-6 as he lets me call him).
Yesterday was my birthday, I received a digital camera (my parents) and a box of DOTS (from my boss), and it hit me when I was driving home to have lunch with my family at 9:15 am. In three weeks I would be sitting in a hotel in Philadelphia. Yikes!!!
What have I gotten myself into?!?!
The day passed, not as uneventfully as I would hope, and around 7:15 my best friend called to wish me happy birthday and told me he looked forward to my trip down to Florida. Which brought up again getting me plastered before going to Ukraine. I eagerly await said trip. Gotta bring up my tolerance some. I think tomorrow morning I'll have a screwdriver before work. Kidding....maybe.
Life seems to have hit the fast forward button and to be honest I kinda like it. This is my last week of work for the government (YA!!!!!), then on Saturday is a trip to my favorite German restaurant, and Sunday I head to Bloomington to visit a friend for a couple days. Then I head to Florida, come back and then off to Philly. Stellar. The month of March shall be busy.
Oh and a comment that was said by my mother "There are a lot of drugs and prostitutes in Ukraine. Don't do drugs okay? And don't have sex with any prostitutes! I mean it!"
I told her I would steer clear of the drugs but the prostitutes would be tricky to evade. :-)
Yesterday was my birthday, I received a digital camera (my parents) and a box of DOTS (from my boss), and it hit me when I was driving home to have lunch with my family at 9:15 am. In three weeks I would be sitting in a hotel in Philadelphia. Yikes!!!
What have I gotten myself into?!?!
The day passed, not as uneventfully as I would hope, and around 7:15 my best friend called to wish me happy birthday and told me he looked forward to my trip down to Florida. Which brought up again getting me plastered before going to Ukraine. I eagerly await said trip. Gotta bring up my tolerance some. I think tomorrow morning I'll have a screwdriver before work. Kidding....maybe.
Life seems to have hit the fast forward button and to be honest I kinda like it. This is my last week of work for the government (YA!!!!!), then on Saturday is a trip to my favorite German restaurant, and Sunday I head to Bloomington to visit a friend for a couple days. Then I head to Florida, come back and then off to Philly. Stellar. The month of March shall be busy.
Oh and a comment that was said by my mother "There are a lot of drugs and prostitutes in Ukraine. Don't do drugs okay? And don't have sex with any prostitutes! I mean it!"
I told her I would steer clear of the drugs but the prostitutes would be tricky to evade. :-)
March 2, 2007
Promise
So I've been re-reading my past posts, I'm avoiding any and all "work", and I've come to the following conclusion. My blog sucks. Not that I don't mind all the dots and the dark blue background. Its just that I started this blog on such an upbeat sort of way. I was all "look at me I'm trying to do the Peace Corps and this is whats going on in my process"!
Then at some point reality hit home and my blog started to show only one side of my personality and/or frustrations. Which isn't really fair to myself seeing as I know other people read this. Who are these other people? I've no idea. I've not had any contact with B for quite some time, Kat may look at it one day, as might Julia, or other group members. But the fact is that this has been my release of all the frustrations I've had. Instead of pouring out my inner thoughts to people I just put them here. Which is a comfort and a vice.
So on a positive note I promise to make a correction of that. Which can be seen earlier today with my post of ten things. I didn't know just HOW frustrating things would be with Peace Corps until rather recently when I reflected. My advice for those considering the Peace Corps, do it for the love of helping others but realize it's not easy. It's more like a sugar coated tylenol than a sugar coated piece of chocolate (aka M&M). The idea is great but once you get the ball rolling...it turns into a giant snowball that chases you through a busy San Francisco street picking up more passerbies until it rams into you. The snowball equals all the paperwork by the way. It's a necessary evil...I get it...doesn't mean I like it but I get it.
But there's a lot going on in my mind that made me freak. I'm going to Ukraine, not Azerbaijan. That alone was hard to decide and even harder to do in one day. I called almost everyone I knew to ask for advice. Throw in my parent's somewhat support, thats changed because of the location. Toss in a little time to get prepared, and then WHAM one more unexpected hurdle just tossed me for a ride. I mean I was all gravy until the whole CD only being on Windows. Crazy that a CD just broke the camel's back.
I handled it somewhat like a champ. I was grumpy last night and made the post and then proceeded to kick and punch at my punching bag on and off for about an hour. (My thighs hurt still.) But in the end I realized it wasn't impossible. I downloaded Boot Camp on my Mac and I'll just get a copy of XP to put on it and then I'll have both Windows and OSX on my computer. Crisis averted for the time being.
On a lighter note. A much lighter note that doesn't involving me freaking out.
A co-worker (only four years older...second closest to my age) told me about a Ukrainian she dated and told me to watch out for a weird Jello dish with meat on the inside. The idea of jello with fruit in it makes me gag. I mean I like jello and I like fruit. I do not like them together. I mean who really wants a hunk of banana in strawberry jello?!?! So this idea of jello and MEAT made me almost barf in my mouth.
So I did what any American with time on their hand would do. I googled it. Turns out the dish is called studynets. There are two types of studynets, kholodets and zalyvne. Zalyvne is jellied fish and kholodets is jellied beef. A big lesson learned for me is that they don't use jello. That changes a lot for me. Instead the jelly comes from broth and gelatin. So basically its a cold meat dish with the fat congealed around it. Thats liveable. It doesn't sound amazingly appetizing but it doesn't scare the crap out of me. Okay mildly scares the crap out of me. If you're reading this do the following; open google, type kholodets (copy and paste if you must), and click images instead of pressing enter. You'll see a green...glob with meat on the inside.
On another culinary side I'm looking forward to borscht. I've never had it. Doesn't sound terrible either.
I'm now both hungry and turned off by jello...amazing.
Then at some point reality hit home and my blog started to show only one side of my personality and/or frustrations. Which isn't really fair to myself seeing as I know other people read this. Who are these other people? I've no idea. I've not had any contact with B for quite some time, Kat may look at it one day, as might Julia, or other group members. But the fact is that this has been my release of all the frustrations I've had. Instead of pouring out my inner thoughts to people I just put them here. Which is a comfort and a vice.
So on a positive note I promise to make a correction of that. Which can be seen earlier today with my post of ten things. I didn't know just HOW frustrating things would be with Peace Corps until rather recently when I reflected. My advice for those considering the Peace Corps, do it for the love of helping others but realize it's not easy. It's more like a sugar coated tylenol than a sugar coated piece of chocolate (aka M&M). The idea is great but once you get the ball rolling...it turns into a giant snowball that chases you through a busy San Francisco street picking up more passerbies until it rams into you. The snowball equals all the paperwork by the way. It's a necessary evil...I get it...doesn't mean I like it but I get it.
But there's a lot going on in my mind that made me freak. I'm going to Ukraine, not Azerbaijan. That alone was hard to decide and even harder to do in one day. I called almost everyone I knew to ask for advice. Throw in my parent's somewhat support, thats changed because of the location. Toss in a little time to get prepared, and then WHAM one more unexpected hurdle just tossed me for a ride. I mean I was all gravy until the whole CD only being on Windows. Crazy that a CD just broke the camel's back.
I handled it somewhat like a champ. I was grumpy last night and made the post and then proceeded to kick and punch at my punching bag on and off for about an hour. (My thighs hurt still.) But in the end I realized it wasn't impossible. I downloaded Boot Camp on my Mac and I'll just get a copy of XP to put on it and then I'll have both Windows and OSX on my computer. Crisis averted for the time being.
On a lighter note. A much lighter note that doesn't involving me freaking out.
A co-worker (only four years older...second closest to my age) told me about a Ukrainian she dated and told me to watch out for a weird Jello dish with meat on the inside. The idea of jello with fruit in it makes me gag. I mean I like jello and I like fruit. I do not like them together. I mean who really wants a hunk of banana in strawberry jello?!?! So this idea of jello and MEAT made me almost barf in my mouth.
So I did what any American with time on their hand would do. I googled it. Turns out the dish is called studynets. There are two types of studynets, kholodets and zalyvne. Zalyvne is jellied fish and kholodets is jellied beef. A big lesson learned for me is that they don't use jello. That changes a lot for me. Instead the jelly comes from broth and gelatin. So basically its a cold meat dish with the fat congealed around it. Thats liveable. It doesn't sound amazingly appetizing but it doesn't scare the crap out of me. Okay mildly scares the crap out of me. If you're reading this do the following; open google, type kholodets (copy and paste if you must), and click images instead of pressing enter. You'll see a green...glob with meat on the inside.
On another culinary side I'm looking forward to borscht. I've never had it. Doesn't sound terrible either.
I'm now both hungry and turned off by jello...amazing.
Another Day
Since a day went by I'm doing a bit better. In fact I was in an upbeat sort of move this morning. That is until I got to work. Ahhhh...I can't wait to leave.
But I came up with something over the last 24 hours that made me smile.
Top Ten Reasons Why I'll Thrive in Ukraine (or some reasons why I'll adapt)
10. I love potatoes.
9. Making snow angels most of the year round excites me.
8. Ukrainian women...they're pretty attractive.
7. I hope to see a three eyed fish.
6. Black market is thriving. Yay cheap music and movies!
5. It has a Catholic church.
4. Ukrainian hospitatlity.
3. Drinking vodka for breakfast. Any one that has experienced my job will know that alcohol makes the work day just a bit more bearable.
2. The sniff method. Guys are stereotyped as doing this. I do it. What is the sniff method? You sniff your clothes and if they smell clean, then by god they are. If they smell a bit musky...air dry them for a bit and then they're good.
1. Volunteers. I may not know many of them. I may have very limited interaction with them at this point but I'm positive they'll make life more pleasant.
But I came up with something over the last 24 hours that made me smile.
Top Ten Reasons Why I'll Thrive in Ukraine (or some reasons why I'll adapt)
10. I love potatoes.
9. Making snow angels most of the year round excites me.
8. Ukrainian women...they're pretty attractive.
7. I hope to see a three eyed fish.
6. Black market is thriving. Yay cheap music and movies!
5. It has a Catholic church.
4. Ukrainian hospitatlity.
3. Drinking vodka for breakfast. Any one that has experienced my job will know that alcohol makes the work day just a bit more bearable.
2. The sniff method. Guys are stereotyped as doing this. I do it. What is the sniff method? You sniff your clothes and if they smell clean, then by god they are. If they smell a bit musky...air dry them for a bit and then they're good.
1. Volunteers. I may not know many of them. I may have very limited interaction with them at this point but I'm positive they'll make life more pleasant.
March 1, 2007
I think the Peace Corps hates me...
***Note- I'm a bit...frustrated at the moment. So this post is merely an inner look at WHY.
A year ago I submitted my application, had an interview, and was nominated for a program for a year and a half later. I was ready to leave in six months.
Once I got my medical packet I started to make doctor appointments. Problem, no one knew who my doctor was. Not even my insurance who then reassigned me, didn't tell me, and then he switched who he took. I didn't have a doctor for three months.
Finally got a doctor, filled out the forms, and gave blood for labs. The PC didn't say exactly WHICH hepatitis B test they needed. I gave more blood. And then some more for safe measure.
3 months I heard nothing for my clearance.
Two months of hearing nothing about placement.
Finally get invited. I have one day to decide. I accept and am told "fill out and send your visa/passport application like the next day". Receive a CD that only runs on PC.
Today I get a welcome packet from the country desk. It has a CD for 30 days of language. I have roughly 17 days until staging to do this.
CD only runs on PC. I own a Mac.
Add into the fact that I feel like the last kid picked to play a game at recess. People are clicking and getting to know each other...so naturally I feel a bit..left out? Something like that.
By the time staging comes around, I'll know a couple people by name but not face, have no idea of the language, and apparently be under prepared technology wise because I prefer Macs over PCs and refuse to buy a new laptop.
I think the Peace Corps hates me....that or I have bad luck.
Maybe the bad luck. Its hard for an organization to hate someone.
I'm just stressed. I've so much to do with little time and with each thing I get from the Peace Corps it just adds more stuff to do that I literally cannot do. Argh I say...argh!
Updated- Letting that out made me feel better...still frustrated but less...
A year ago I submitted my application, had an interview, and was nominated for a program for a year and a half later. I was ready to leave in six months.
Once I got my medical packet I started to make doctor appointments. Problem, no one knew who my doctor was. Not even my insurance who then reassigned me, didn't tell me, and then he switched who he took. I didn't have a doctor for three months.
Finally got a doctor, filled out the forms, and gave blood for labs. The PC didn't say exactly WHICH hepatitis B test they needed. I gave more blood. And then some more for safe measure.
3 months I heard nothing for my clearance.
Two months of hearing nothing about placement.
Finally get invited. I have one day to decide. I accept and am told "fill out and send your visa/passport application like the next day". Receive a CD that only runs on PC.
Today I get a welcome packet from the country desk. It has a CD for 30 days of language. I have roughly 17 days until staging to do this.
CD only runs on PC. I own a Mac.
Add into the fact that I feel like the last kid picked to play a game at recess. People are clicking and getting to know each other...so naturally I feel a bit..left out? Something like that.
By the time staging comes around, I'll know a couple people by name but not face, have no idea of the language, and apparently be under prepared technology wise because I prefer Macs over PCs and refuse to buy a new laptop.
I think the Peace Corps hates me....that or I have bad luck.
Maybe the bad luck. Its hard for an organization to hate someone.
I'm just stressed. I've so much to do with little time and with each thing I get from the Peace Corps it just adds more stuff to do that I literally cannot do. Argh I say...argh!
Updated- Letting that out made me feel better...still frustrated but less...
February 28, 2007
Freaked
Not counting today, I'm due to leave for Ukraine in 28 days. SERIOUSLY!
I feel as though I have so much to do. Like pack. Which of course I've not started, cause that'd be dumb. But just the thought of packing freaks me out a bit. I mean thats 2 years in three bags!!!
On another note I asked around about how long people's aspiration statements were. I got "250-300 words" as the majority. So in my email to the country desk I threw in what I was told. I knew mine was a bit over but I stuck with it. Yesterday I got a reply saying "We got your aspiration statement but we'd like you to take out one word. You're over limit......kidding!" I about crapped myself. Really?! I mean all the stuff I've gotta do and you reply with that? Thats something I'd do.
Oh and I've got less than a month to learn as much Ukrainian as possible. Yeah thats not impossible. I look forward to butchering your language Ukrainians. It'll be glorious. :-)
I feel as though I have so much to do. Like pack. Which of course I've not started, cause that'd be dumb. But just the thought of packing freaks me out a bit. I mean thats 2 years in three bags!!!
On another note I asked around about how long people's aspiration statements were. I got "250-300 words" as the majority. So in my email to the country desk I threw in what I was told. I knew mine was a bit over but I stuck with it. Yesterday I got a reply saying "We got your aspiration statement but we'd like you to take out one word. You're over limit......kidding!" I about crapped myself. Really?! I mean all the stuff I've gotta do and you reply with that? Thats something I'd do.
Oh and I've got less than a month to learn as much Ukrainian as possible. Yeah thats not impossible. I look forward to butchering your language Ukrainians. It'll be glorious. :-)
February 22, 2007
Re-Evaluation
Yesterday was a rather "not great" day for the most part. Or so I thought.
Going to work when you know that in a month you'll be headed to live in another country for two years just bites. I mean it gives me little to no motivation to give 110%. Heck it doesn't give me motivation to give 60%. But alas I go and still give atleast 85%. I can't really measure it. Heading into lunch I was determined to attend Ash Wednesday.
This is where my normal day would be just grand. Mass at work. Sounds good. We had to sit in the balcony but were able to move down lower after ashes were delivered. Who was caddy corner (thats diagonal to those not in the midwest) from me? The love of my life.
...okay so she's not the love of my life. But she definitely WAS the love of my life...even though I never directly told her. Plus it doesn't help that she married a "gay guy" (his homosexuality is contested but many of us firmly believe that he is in fact gay and will come out one day). I ignored her presence. I've not talked to her in atleast a year. She caught me though. At the end of the service I bolted. In retrospect I feel ashamed of bolting and not trying to rekindle my friendship with this great person.
It all came down to the guy. I've never liked him. So the day was blah. Then I had dinner with my friend Laura. Laura and I had a good dinner and caught up a fair amount and in general had a nice time. But the convo turned to said individual and it was nice to hear that my impressions of him were coming out of her mouth and that she knows it was said by more than her and others. Yay? Not that I despise him...just bitter folks. A little bitterness is okay. I mean thats why I like dark chocolate.
But it brought up a big thing, experience. See this guy acts like he's better than others and doesn't recognize the help that he's been given. He ignores it or puts a blind eye to it. He talks himself up and the story just keeps going back to him. I hated that...still do.
I've compared myself to him on so many occassions. And part of me was just thinking "ha! I'm doing the Peace Corps you greedy and selfish American!" And then I felt bad...how bad? Bad bad. Like I should put myself in the corner for a good week to feel less guilty for those thoughts. I've been assured those thoughts are not uncommon.
In reality it made me re-evaluate not only my reasonings for the Peace Corps but what I want to do with life. Actually the entire convo with Laura put my life into perspective. I'm a good guy. Hey it's hard to come to that conclusion when you keep thinking about other things. Today I actually FELT grown up. Going to Starbucks and getting a latte, although not uncommon, it made me realize that in about a month I'll be walking around Ukraine. It made me feel...fresh. Like it's a new shot at things. Completely new surrounding and a new opportunity to experience life.
I'm not just doing the Peace Corps to be altruistic, none of us are really, but owning up to that made me feel better. I'm getting trained to speak another language, two years of living in another culture (which will MAJORLY boost my resume), volunteering my life (again...major boost), AND I get to help! How lucky am I?!?! I mean afterwards I'll just have to put down "PC Volunteer in Ukraine" and so many more jobs will open up to me. Hell I might be able to work overseas. Which is my dream.
Thinks are just starting to fall in place and for once I can notice it.
Going to work when you know that in a month you'll be headed to live in another country for two years just bites. I mean it gives me little to no motivation to give 110%. Heck it doesn't give me motivation to give 60%. But alas I go and still give atleast 85%. I can't really measure it. Heading into lunch I was determined to attend Ash Wednesday.
This is where my normal day would be just grand. Mass at work. Sounds good. We had to sit in the balcony but were able to move down lower after ashes were delivered. Who was caddy corner (thats diagonal to those not in the midwest) from me? The love of my life.
...okay so she's not the love of my life. But she definitely WAS the love of my life...even though I never directly told her. Plus it doesn't help that she married a "gay guy" (his homosexuality is contested but many of us firmly believe that he is in fact gay and will come out one day). I ignored her presence. I've not talked to her in atleast a year. She caught me though. At the end of the service I bolted. In retrospect I feel ashamed of bolting and not trying to rekindle my friendship with this great person.
It all came down to the guy. I've never liked him. So the day was blah. Then I had dinner with my friend Laura. Laura and I had a good dinner and caught up a fair amount and in general had a nice time. But the convo turned to said individual and it was nice to hear that my impressions of him were coming out of her mouth and that she knows it was said by more than her and others. Yay? Not that I despise him...just bitter folks. A little bitterness is okay. I mean thats why I like dark chocolate.
But it brought up a big thing, experience. See this guy acts like he's better than others and doesn't recognize the help that he's been given. He ignores it or puts a blind eye to it. He talks himself up and the story just keeps going back to him. I hated that...still do.
I've compared myself to him on so many occassions. And part of me was just thinking "ha! I'm doing the Peace Corps you greedy and selfish American!" And then I felt bad...how bad? Bad bad. Like I should put myself in the corner for a good week to feel less guilty for those thoughts. I've been assured those thoughts are not uncommon.
In reality it made me re-evaluate not only my reasonings for the Peace Corps but what I want to do with life. Actually the entire convo with Laura put my life into perspective. I'm a good guy. Hey it's hard to come to that conclusion when you keep thinking about other things. Today I actually FELT grown up. Going to Starbucks and getting a latte, although not uncommon, it made me realize that in about a month I'll be walking around Ukraine. It made me feel...fresh. Like it's a new shot at things. Completely new surrounding and a new opportunity to experience life.
I'm not just doing the Peace Corps to be altruistic, none of us are really, but owning up to that made me feel better. I'm getting trained to speak another language, two years of living in another culture (which will MAJORLY boost my resume), volunteering my life (again...major boost), AND I get to help! How lucky am I?!?! I mean afterwards I'll just have to put down "PC Volunteer in Ukraine" and so many more jobs will open up to me. Hell I might be able to work overseas. Which is my dream.
Thinks are just starting to fall in place and for once I can notice it.
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