Dear Heat,
What the fuck? When I moved to Ukraine, I was told to prepare for the cold. Being from New England, I didn’t think I would have to prepare that hard for it. A bit of important information seems to have been left out… nobody mentioned that we should also prepare for extremely hot summers. The temperature has been over 100 degrees for over a week now, and there doesn’t seem to be a break in sight. How am I expected to be productive? My brain is simmering and seams to be leaking out of my body in the form of sweat. Could you please give me a break? (I realize I might regret this request in a few months).
Me and my sweat soaked clothing are eagerly awaiting your response.
Sincerely,
Amy
Dear Cold,
Where did you go? I have multiple sweatshirts and special new toasty socks and am awaiting your return.
I miss you dearly,
Amy
While my brain has been simmering, things have seemed to pick up here in Balakleya. Who knew that a gas leak and a little CO2 poisoning would be the catalyst which seemingly got things moving here for me? The day after the whole gas leak fiasco, I had a new faucet and shower nozzle installed and had put a down payment on a bed (and, after a week in Lugansk, I now have the bed. It’s HUGE and extremely comfortable). My Director had also arranged for me to meet with a partnering organization solo. And that is what I did.
I met with two ladies at a Social Services organization for Families, Youth and Children. I asked a few questions in Russian and learned what they were all about. The ladies were extremely gracious and well-humored in light of my lack of proficiency with the language. They explained things really simply and spoke slowly and we laughed a lot and passed around the dictionary when I didn’t understand. It was light and jovial and it seemed like it will be a pleasure to work with them starting in the fall.
At a lull in the conversation, the Director of this organization asked me how old I was. I told her, then we went around the room and everyone told their ages. The girl who I thought was in her mid-twenties, was actually 30 and had a 7 year old daughter. The director told me she just turned 40. So we laughed about her turning 40. They asked about the girls in my office, and I told them the ages that I knew, and then learned the ages that I didn’t. I thought this was an interesting cultural difference. It’s apparently not rude to ask people in Ukraine how old they are.
One of the girls had a really hip haircut and since I have been re-thinking my plan to grow my bangs out, I asked her where she got her hair cut. If you have a good haircut then potentially, the hairdresser is good and I wouldn’t end up with a mullet. (The mullet seems to be in fashion here, or never went out of fashion and has been around since the 80s. It’s a real fear that women will end up with a mullet if you go and ask for a haircut without really being able to speak the language effectively). I needed to cut the bangs back and get a trim, but I didn’t want a mullet. So the Director told the girl with the hip hair to take me to the salon and help me out with communicating with the hairdresser. Awesome!
On the way to the salon, we chatted and apparently, I agreed to be a private English tutor for this girl’s 7 year old daughter. The word for tutor sounds like ‘re-pe-teeter’, which to me sounds like the Anglicization of the French word ‘to repeat’ or ‘re-pe-teet’ with an ‘-er’ on the end. Well my languages have all become a giant mush in my brain, so in fact it might not even be that. Now I have to review the French to be sure, but anyhow… I tried to pretend that I didn’t understand, because I really don’t know if I will have time to commit to something like private tutoring when things get rolling, but if it secures me a friend in town, I might as well do it.
I got a great haircut and after my new friend invited me to go swimming with her and her daughter that night. A big thing in Ukraine which I am learning is that summer = swimming in the river. Balakleya has a river that kind of winds through a portion of the town, and it is perfectly acceptable to swim and bathe in the river. The river, as it turns out, is THE place for social gatherings in the summer. The hotter it gets, the more time is spent at the river. Apparently, a lot of people die in Ukraine, swimming in the rivers because they can’t swim well, or they are swept away in the current, but that doesn’t stop people from cooling off in the summer.
Anyhow, after struggling on the phone, I waited outside of my apartment and my friend and her friends picked me up in their car. We stopped at her parent’s house and I met her entire family: her mother, father, brother, his wife and new baby, her husband, and her 7 year old daughter. I was invited to ‘chai’ (tea and cookies), but had to decline because there was a car full of people waiting for us to go. We ended up going to a different beach than the beach that I went to with Conor. Apparently there are tons of different swimming holes up and down the river. I met a bunch of her friends and we swam for a couple of hours. We drank beer and shared snacks and listened to the car radio.
Then we decided to keep the festivities going and went to the forest after dropping off her daughter. We picked up some snacks and some vodka and picked a spot, parked the car and proceeded to chat and do shots of vodka, in the forest. I had a few shots, chatted and joked a bit, and had a great time. Around 11, my friend asked if I wanted to go home even though the party was still going on, and knowing that I had work the next day, I figured I would take advantage of the offer of a ride and get out of there. Now, I know that it sounds really irresponsible of me to drink shots of vodka in the woods. But, drinking vodka is a HUGE part of the Ukrainian culture. I am just choosing to chock it up to a cultural exchange. Once I fit in a bit more, then I can ease up and do my own thing.
On another note, I had apparently agreed to grab drinks the next day, but when the next day came around I realized that I better not. I can’t drink like that all the time. My friend did call me to remind me to come, but I was leaving for Lugansk early the next morning and it would probably be a better travel experience if I wasn’t drunk or hung over. I told her I couldn’t make it. I hope this doesn’t impact our new friendship, but we’ll see. Perhaps now that I am back in town, I’ll swing by her office to say hi.
