Well the most amazing thing happened this past week. I went to a real Ukrainian camp. My boss invited me to go to camp for 3 days when I first started working. He’d pick up the calendar, point to the dates, and say ‘CAMP’, ‘understand’? (This is how my boss communicates with me for the most part… he says one word in Russian, then says ‘understand’… which I do, I understand what the word means, but without at context is doesn’t mean that much). So this happened a few times over the past weeks so that he made sure that I understood that I was doing something August 5th through the 7th.
Of course, I wanted more information, so at some point, I asked him where the camp was. He pulled up a map of Kharkivska oblast and pointed somewhere east of Kharkiv. ‘There, that’s where it is, understand’? Fine, and then I wanted to know what kind of camp it was. ‘HIV/AIDS, training, understand’? So I had the bare minimum for what I could expect. I asked him what I should bring and he told me, nothing… and then, he didn’t know. And then, I got more specific. Do I need a sleeping bag, sheets, pillow, towel? Well sleeping bag, no, sheets, no, pillow, no… but towel, yes. Okay fine. So armed with this bit of knowledge I was supposedly prepared for camp.
The morning we were supposed to leave I met him in the center by the administration building. At a certain point, he said, Amy let’s go, so I got in the car and we started driving. My boss put on his seatbelt. This is a novelty in Ukraine. People just don’t wear seatbelts. When I get in the front seat its automatic, I put on my seatbelt. But in Ukraine, this is offensive. It says to the driver that you don’t trust them. My boss asked me at some point, why I put it on, I explained that it was a reflex, automatic. In the US, it’s the law, so I don’t even think about it. That time, he put his on in solidarity. This time, I was confused momentarily, but then as we were driving a driver approaching us in the opposite direction had crossed his arm across his chest and was tapping the opposite shoulder. I came to learn that that gesture means cops.
So my boss said, Amy, cops, da? I said it, and he tried to match my pronunciation. Cops. Then I said, or you can say ‘Po-Po’. Po-Po is slang for cops. So he said it and laughed, and said it again and I laughed because when he said it, it sounded more like Poo-Poo. But eventually, he got it. Then for the gusto, I said, ‘Po-Po in da hawz’. And that confused him because he understood the word house, but didn’t understand because we were outside in a car. So I explained that that meant that there were Po-Po around and I gestured around with my hand. And he got it. So for a few minutes he repeated, Po-Po in the house. This is something I wish I got on videotape.
Our drive to the camp, was scenic and long. Logistically speaking, the camp wasn’t that far from Balakleya, but the roads are so crappy that it takes double and triple the time that it would take to drive anywhere in the states. After almost 2 hours we made it. When we got there my boss greeted his friends and pointed out his boss, but then told me to go walk around the lake for a couple of hours. He would call me when he was ready. Uh okay. This was fine, but it was HOT and my water was locked in the trunk of his car at his suggestion. Before parting, I demanded the water and that he show me where the toilet was. He showed me the toilet and explained that each dorm had one, but we didn’t get my water. I ended up sitting by the lake and reading my book.
After awhile, I went back up and looked for him because I was thirsty. Ukrainians, actually don’t drink that much water, so they don’t understand why Americans need to drink lots of it. I needed my water. I got my water, deposited my valuables in his trunk, got my bags and we set out for my room. I got my own room, it had 5 beds in it. My door didn’t close, but eventually, a handyman came around and fixed the lock and gave me a key. Prior, I jammed a Rolling Stone magazine in the jam to keep the door closed. Ah Ukraine.
With my prior prompting, after lunch he sat me down with his schedule and told me the important things like, when to eat and when the trainings were to take place and that there was an opening ceremony that night that I needed to go to before dinner, and that after dark there was a discotheque. This discotheque seems to be a common theme at Ukrainian camps. Some guy with a sound system blares techno and the kids dance. So for a couple of hours I was free, so I swam for a bit then went to my room to relax and read and charge my phone. My boss came in shortly after bearing a light blue t-shirt, a ball cap, a handkerchief, a small pouch and a pen and pad all with the social organizations logo on them. Camp schwag, very nice. He explained that I was to wear this to the opening ceremony. Fair enough. He left and came back a half an hour later and took the handkerchief back and explained something about the ceremony and tying it around my neck. Okay.
I then went to some trainings and finally settled on one that was outside in one of the camp’s gazebos. The kids were interested and the trainer was really energetic, so even though I really couldn’t understand what was going on, it was amusing to watch. The training seemed to wrap up when another lady came by and explained that the kids had to go and pick up their t-shirts and ball caps for the ceremony. So, I went for another swim and headed back to my room and read for a bit since the ceremony wasn’t for another hour.
When it came to be around time for the ceremony, I ventured out and was welcomed by a sea of people dressed in the same uniform of the light blue t-shirt, caps, etc. It made me think of the Smurfs. I headed to the patio to meet my boss and we ended up standing around for a bit waiting. Then the sound system cued up, the techno music started and the kids in 3 lines each of single-file lines started marching onto the patio. They marched on, the lady with the microphone told them they looked like crap (or so I imagined she said, based on the tone and volume of her voice) and they filed off the patio. Cue the music, they did it again, and then again, filed off the patio. I was confused so I asked my boss if it was over, and he said no, that this was an exercise in repetition. Ah okay.
So a few more ‘repetitions’, the kids in teams of twenty or so recited something for the crowd in a very cheerleader kind of way, and then there were introductions, like at an awards show. Except in this case, it was the higher ups in the Kharkiv Oblast Government that lead the social services organization. The lady with the microphone gave an introduction and the person would saunter across the patio and everyone would clap. It was a bit surreal.
Towards the end of the ceremony, they came to the part where they were honoring their guests that were visiting the camp. So each person who was honored was asked to come forward and stand in a line. In Ukraine, when people make speeches they are, let’s say, extremely long-winded. It’s like that with toasts too. So my mind tends to wander, especially since I only understand 2 out of every 5 words and then don’t always understand how it all fits together in a sentence. But at a certain point, I clued in. The last honoree was me! My boss cleverly snapped my photo at the exact moment when I realized that they were talking about a volunteer from the United States, who was in Ukraine with the Peace Corps. The look on my face in the photo is absolutely classic. It can only be described as my ‘What the Fuck?’ Face. I joined the people in line and one of the kids was assigned to present me with a small gift and tie the handkerchief around my neck, scout style. This whole ceremony was AWESOME, so Ukraine. Then at the end of the ceremony the kids filed off to blaring techno music. I went directly to my room and took off my blue get-up because honestly, that t-shirt was super hot.
I then ambled around waiting for dinner to start, but in so doing was scooped up by the Secretary of something or other and he told me that I was supposed to be in the staff room for a celebration. My boss told me nothing of the sort, but maybe I missed the invitation when I scooted to change my clothes. In the room the table was lined with wine, cognac, beer, kvas (fermented black bread drink), juice and water, plus a whole bunch of Ukrainian drinking snacks like break, cheese and sausages, olives, cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce (that might have been garnish). The Secretary of so and so demanded that I sit next to him and drink. My boss, kept saying Amy, Beer, Amy, Beer, so guess what I drank?
There were a lot of long-winded toasts, I felt like it was my place to put my two cents in on that, so I stood up and said ‘May I?’ in Russian. Then said, ‘Rock and Roll’, understand? Heads nodded. And then I said Ukraine, understand? And there was a chorus of ‘Da’s. And then I said, ‘Ukraine ROCKS!’ and there was some mumbling and then someone yelled out, ‘To Ukraine!’ in Russian so it went over well. I was being associated with Rock and Roll to begin with because there were a few people at the table who were fans of Woodstock, the music festival. So thanks to the old last name, I get some instant recognition, but then confusion when I explain that no, I wasn’t born at, nor conceived at Woodstock.
I made friends with two hip gals at the table by joining them when they went out for a smoke break. (In case you were wondering, I did not partake). They told me that they had just returned from a concert in Poland, like Woodstock, called the Heart to Heart festival. Then they wanted to take picture for Facebook. Later when we went back the party seemingly had dispersed so I loaded some water, the rest of a bottle of red wine and some cognac into my bag and we high-tailed it out of there after one of the girls grabbed some of the food. At this point, I had started doing shots of cognac with them and I was feeling really good. And they thought it was awesome that I smuggled the booze out in my bag. They told me that was very Ukrainian. I told them, that was very Amy. We went back to their room and continued to drink, then we headed off to the discotheque where we shook our money makers like crazy, probably to the embarrassment of all the kids.
Let’s just say, I had fun that night, but the next day, was just a tad painful. This is the second time I have sincerely tried to drink with Ukrainians. Amy, learn your lesson. You are not built for that crap. Stick with your red wine and gin and tonics, refrain from the vodka and cognac shots… or shots of anything for that matter. You will thank me for this bit of advice later.
I went to the second half of the training with the energetic trainer. The kids played some fun team-building games that I have and haven’t seen before. At the end, they handed out certificates to the kids for all their efforts. And oddly enough, despite the fact that I just sat and watched, I got a certificate too (certificates after events are also very Ukrainian). After the training, I swam a bit with the other adults. There was a huge picnic spread of stuff to pick on, but they were demanding I do shots. Nope, No, No Way, Not Again. Maybe they thought I was rude for refusing, but there was no way I could do that again. After lunch, I snuck to my room and took at nap.
After dinner there was a talent show that was absolutely amazing. The kids sang, and did choreographed dance sequences to techno music. It was unbelievable. I had to keep pinching myself, because it was so obvious that I was in Ukraine. There is even a Ukrainian version of what looked like the Macarena! The kicker for me though was a choreographed karate fight scene where one kid was dressed in a black Gei and the other in a white Gei and the song Final Countdown was playing as they fought. It was awesome. I figured nothing could top that, so I snuck off and went to bed early before anyone could rope me into another night of crazy drinking.
The next day we had breakfast and hit the road early. My boss asked me, ‘You went to bed early last night didn’t you’? Yep, I did. How did you sleep, OTLEECHNA (means super). I asked him how he slept and he said ploe-ha (horrible). He told me he wanted sleep badly. I think he was jealous that I snuck off and went to bed early. We drove the two hours home, I got home, got inside, and locked my door. Dropped my stuff and tried to head out the door to make it to the Post Office to pick up my packages and my key was stuck in the door. Lame. So I grabbed my bag and said a little prayer to the gods and left my key in the door and went to the store and picked up my packages. I called my boss when I got back and he came right over despite the fact that I had just woken him up. Then he turned the key and it came right out. I screamed, ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me!?!’ and we both laughed. He didn’t quite understand so he made me say ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me!?!’ over and over again. I explained that I had no idea how to say it in Russian. But then we laughed again and he left.
What a great Ukrainian adventure.
