Well, my first impressions of site were a little rough. But after a week of settling in and some intense cleaning and scrubbing and some retail therapy, I am starting to feel more at home. I think the most awesome thing about first impressions is that when we rolled up to my new Soviet block-style apartment complex the graffiti that was sprayed near my door said 'Mothe Fuker'... Classe (that means awesome in Russian). I saw that and I instantly thought... wow, I am home.
So anyhow, the front door to my building is broken and open. We climbed some dank concrete stairs up to the third floor and my door looked pretty non-descript. What's kind of cool is that I have 2 doors. A nice wood outside door with a pretty sturdy lock, then an inside door that is padded with a peep hole. I'm not sure why the peep hole is not on the outside door, but 'Eta Geezn' (that's life). My apartment is big, but let's just say it needed a LOT of work for me to feel comfortable. (When I say a lot, I am not exaggerating when I say that I scrubbed for a minimum of 15 hours my first weekend there).
The kitchen was cute, but dirty, and I didn't have a fridge so that would be a problem. I have a 'pantry' which I am choosing to not use for anything, but storage of my cleaning supplies and my Peace Corps issued space heater. It's dark and dank and potentially could be used as a sort of fridge if it wasn't covered in mold on the inside. This is a cleaning project I am choosing to NOT undertake. That door will stay closed. I hope my space heater doesn't get too scared and lonely in there.
My main room is rather large. I have a divan (probably from the 1950s if I am guessing correctly from the fabric pattern) that pulls out into a bed. This seems to be pretty standard from what I have experienced in my little village, although, I was lucky enough to have the master-suite in Starry Belous so I had a real bed. I sat on the divan and basically thought I was going to fall through the middle, good thing I didn't plop down on one of the supports... I think I might have broken my tailbone if that was the case, but thankfully it wasn't. (I am seeing what I can do about buying a new bed, or at least a new mattress). Everytime I move, the bed creaks really loudly and I think I wake myself up because I haven't been sleeping well at all. But, anyhow the room is nice and big and I have a really beautiful wall length armoir/cabinet thing for storage. I have been offered a tv, which I think I am going to take them up on since it might help with my Russian studies. I also have a kind of rickety, slanted balcony which is great for air flow and for hanging wet clothes after I wash them. And, AND key is that all of my windows are brand new. The windows both on the balcony and separating the balcony from the apartment are high-tech. I can open them like I would open a door to the side, or I can switch the handle and have them cracked open at the top. It's pretty cool. Same for the kitchen, all new and freshly installed with some weird ugly foam stuff that I am choosing to think is NOT asbestos... but may in fact be. I will do my best not to lick it or nuzzle my nose against it on cold days.
The HUGE sore point is the bathroom. The wallpaper is hanging off the walls and the ceiling and the toilet was totally nasty. When I got there the toilet seat was on the floor and the toilet was filthy and seatless. Not too inviting to someone who just spent a few hours in a car and had to go. The tub is big, but has a huge rust spot along the middle. My way around this has been to wear flip flops in the tub and to buy a huge plastic laundry basin and stand in it... when I take my bucket showers... (I don't have hot water so I have to boil the kettle on the stove and then take the precarious walk to the bathroom with a heavy scalding hot kettle then dump it into my bucket and mix with cold water. I'm not sure if I am doing the bucket shower correctly, but I have cut the top off of one of my plastic water bottles, stand in the laundry basin, and then use the water bottle to dump warm water over myself... This has gotten kind of old already and it's only been a week, but apparently this is a normal thing to do here so I have to get over my spoiled self and make it work... and by making it work, I am buying a hot water boiler and having a shower nozzle that works installed... eta geezn).
I think possibly my two favorite parts about the bathroom were in describing two things to John and then listening to him gagging over the phone at my bathroom experience. Number 1, the toilet seat that I mentioned... that was on the floor. I picked it up to check it out since I figured it would be better to sit on that with toilet paper on it than to hover over my own toilet... It was one of those soft cushy toilet seats. It was filthy and some of the foam was exposed in a few places. I pretty much immediately demanded that my director take me somewhere to buy a new toilet seat. According to John, a cushy padded toilet seat is one of the nastiest things that can be in a bathroom... a dirty one with holes in the seat being the worst. Number 2, I told John that I pulled about 8 inches of hairy slime from the drain in tub, all the while gagging myself as I dropped it in the toilet and almost tossed my cookies.
After giving me a short rest and then taking me to my new office and shopping for a few household items - like a new toilet seat and a plastic laundry basin, my counterpart and director left me alone for the weekend to get settled and to unpack. This turned out to be really good since my new apartment required a minimum of 15 hours of intense scrubbing for me to feel comfortable. My new office, however, is AWESOME. The organization that I am working for is a governmental organization and the regional center hub that deals with children and youth that are HIV-positive. They do HIV education, training and various types of therapy. It seems like it will be a very interesting experience.
The office building is located on a hospital campus that is in the forest on the outskirts of town (40 minute walk - that's nothing for a New Yorker). The setting is beautiful, although there is a small building across from my office that sells coffins... strange, I'm not sure what that's all about, but hopefully I will find out. The office is new. Beautiful kitchen, bathroom with a shower and a hot water boiler, an office area, a therapy room/training room and a children's therapy room with books, toys, games and art supplies. And we have resident chinchillas, a hamster and fish to keep things interesting. I have befriended one of the chinchillas. She squeaks at me when I walk by, because she knows that I am good for a belly scratch and some pumpkin seeds.
A bonus with the office is that there is a part-time cleaning lady that comes everyday and prepares lunch for us. So I am almost guaranteed a free lunch if I go to the office daily. The downside of going to the office is that because of the location in the forest far from the center of town, the internet is horribly slow if not non-existent. So realistically speaking once things start rolling and I have some real work to do, I might be working from home or the Administration building in town because as an American, I am having some serious trouble working without being able to access the internet. Another bonus to the office is that there is a washing machine in the kitchen that I can use any day that I work. So, I just have to drag my dirties to the office and wash them there... however, after doing so once, I realized that maybe best to still handwash my unders at home since there isn't a dryer or even a clothesline at the office, I just kind of hang the wet clothes around the therapy room to dry while I am still at work. Not so sure that it's appropriate for my office mates to see my undies and bras hanging all over the place.
So, when I was first left alone in my apartment after an exhausting training in Kiev, saying goodbye to all my peeps, an exhausting overnight train ride to site, and then a 2 hour car ride from Kharkiv to see a filthy apartment that was now mine with a gross toilet seat I cried. I admit it. I was exhausted and dropped in the middle of nowhere with complete strangers who didn't speak any English and I was having a lot of trouble communicating with them,since it seemed like they didn't have a lot of experience communicating with someone who was learning a new language. And my mind flashed forward to being alone in the winter and trapped in my apartment, by myself and I kind of freaked. But, you know what I did? I picked up my phone and I called Conor and we bad video skyped and he saw my apartment and I saw his... and you know what... my apartment wasn't that bad. It's just all about perspective and I knew I needed to have some, but I was just too tired to manage it.
So at this point, I have found the positive. I now have a fridge. I have water and lots of it all day long - a lot of my friends here don't. I can install a hot water boiler. My windows are new and have screens on them. I have a huge, safe apartment all to myself. I don't have to share with any weird roommates. I live in the center of town and can see the administration building from my apartment. I can get anywhere in town (except my office and the train station) within a 5-10 minute walk, and I have learned that my apartment is actually quite nice once it is clean. And I have the most awesome graffiti right outside the front door of my building 'Mothe Fuker' that I can laugh at everday. To be honest, everything started to turn around once I bought a new toilet seat. Who knew that life could be set right, by a brand new powder blue cushy toilet seat? Hey, my choices were limited and I refuse to take a shit while sitting on a cushy pink toilet seat. See, it's all about having the right perspective, right?
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Hmmm Pictures
Anybody got a handle on uploading photos to the blog? Any tips so that they don't just come out strangely stacked at the top of the entry?
Swearing In
Again a ton has happened. It’s so hard to keep up with the ole blog. I have since left Starry Belous. I woke up that morning with bad diarrhea, but thanks to the 4 Imodium that I took, I managed the 2 hour bus ride to Kiev and then some. The took us to a University campus where we would be spending the next 4 days in various meetings and information sessions, in addition to meeting our counterparts for the first time, all before getting shipped off to our sites. I know I’ve said it before, but training was exhausting. Being ill on top of it was even more so, sitting through days of meetings and knowing that we were about to say goodbye to each other and forced into a weird uncomfortable social situation with our counterparts… tough man. I was one tired sister. But the last 4 days were fun and in some ways brought a lot of us closer together.
The first day at the gathering in Kiev, they told us where we would be heading to site. Our little Cluster was flung all over the country. I was headed to Balakleya in the Kharkiv Oblast. It’s a town of 45,000 people. I would have my own apartment on the 3rd floor of a 5-story walk up. I would not have hot water. I would be working for an organization that works with HIV positive children and youth. Kim and John would be sent off to the same region in Sumi Oblast and would be living roughly an hour apart. Conor is roughly six hours away from me in Donetsk Oblast. And Cassie was flung the farthest from everyone to somewhere I can’t remember right now, but she’s in a major city and was placed on the women’s soccer team before she even got to site.
Conor and I went on an adventure the last night. We took the chance at having a last ditch effort to get some American food before heading off to site and the potential for endless meals of cabbage salads, kasha and friend eggs. What did we eat? We went out for a cheeseburger! And not just any old shitty cheeseburger, we went to TGI Fridays or тжи Фрайдис. I got the Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger standard size Conor got the Jack Daniels Burger ultimate size (apparently it means you get an extra patty of beef) with an icy cold Heineken draft beer. I don’t think I have ever seen Conor so ecstatic. I think it might have been the first time he was full in three months. Whether it was the burgers or just the end of a training – we were both exhausted post-meal. We headed straight back to the dorms and we both passed out.
The last day – D-Day was tough. We had some meetings, then the official Swearing-In Ceremony, and then a few of us at a time we were to be picked off and sent to the train station to head out. The Swearing-In Ceremony was great. My host-mom showed up for the ceremony so that was a great surprise. She bought me chocolates which I immediately opened since I was nervous about committing myself to something for two years – especially since I still don’t know exactly what is in store for me. When Theodora asked if anyone wanted coffee, I jumped on that. Around the time Theodora and Cassie came back with the coffees, a man came up and started talking to my mom in Russian. So she turned her back and us and started having a conversation. As I was stirring my coffee, I said rather loudly to my friends... ‘Gee, I hope this coffee doesn’t make me want to poop during the ceremony’. And that was when Conor started laughing hysterically and said, ‘Dude, reporter… recording…’ Ooops, I was kind of wondering why the guy was holding his Blackberry in between he and my host-mom. So maybe there is a sound bite out there of me talking about poop in the background of a meaning interview about Ukrainian/American partnerships.
The actually ceremony made me feel pretty proud. They played the Ukraine National Anthem, then the US National Anthem, and I could have swore I felt an inkling of patriotism in these cynical bones. I might have even teared up a little. A bit later the Peace Corps trainees were asked to stand and raise their right hand and we actually had to repeat an oath. It was so official. I actually swore to serve my country and promote world peace. Cool. My stomach dropped a bit, but I shrugged it off… two years is a long time, but in the grand scheme of things it will probably go by in the wink of an eye.
And then the torture started to happen. First John and Kim went to head off to their sites... See Peace Corps had our departures staggered to make it less of a logistical nightmare to see off 72 people. But being one of the 7 left standing at the end of the day due to my late train departure sucked because I got to see EVERYONE go. Every damn hour hugging, lugging (baggage) and crying over and over again. It was killer. Conor went next. Then Cassie. Thankfully both Vicki and Brenda were in the 7 left standing so that I had some funny peeps to shoot the shit with. Vicki bought a bag of Snickers bars and doled them out… btw, Vicki, I still have that Snickers. I am saving it for a rainy day.
For the train ride, the Peace Corps was generous and bought out an entire Coupé compartment for the volunteer, the counterpart and all of the volunteers belongings. This sounded a little extravagant, but much safer than trying to watch over a ton of baggage in a shared space… Come to find out, we would not have been able to fit in the Coupé with the baggage and 2 other strangers. It was a tight space. I could reach out and touch my counterpart on the other side of the room from my sleeping berth. I can’t imagine trying to sleep in there with a bunch of strangers (although essential the counterpart is a stranger). I am going to find out this weekend though. I am hoping my Coupé is not sold out.
Another note on the trains… early morning the conductor makes an announcement over the compartment sound system that says, ‘It’s time to wake up, it’s time to wake up, it’s time to wake up…’ in a really soothing, not obtrusive voice. Initially, I couldn’t figure out why they would wake us up an hour before arrival, but then I went to the bathroom and discovered why. Everyone lines up for the bathroom and if you want to get in there and brush your teeth and wash up pre-arrival you have to wait in the line. I guess this is good for me to note. Do not drink a lot of water on long train trips, because you might not get to go to the bathroom, and be careful what you eat and/or take some Imodium preemptively.
Now, I want to mention, that you have to give Peace Corps volunteers some credit for being adventurous and brave. It’s not easy to get dropped in a different country where you don’t speak the language or know the customs and get dropped into a host-family setting where you are living with strangers for three months in various conditions. But setting off for site, post-training and only know a few details about your new home, new job, and new colleagues and knowing that this is going to be your life for the next 2 years and not knowing what to expect… that is scary. Even scarier when you counterpart neither speaks English, nor makes any effort to speak Russian in a way that would be comprehensible to someone just learning the language. I’d just like you to think on that before I write my next entry about what my first impressions of my new site were.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
To Vickie and Frank or just End of Training
Wow, I can’t believe it’s been almost two months since I last had the time and energy to write. It is with mixed emotions that I plug this entry out right now seeing as today is my last day, ehem, my last full day in my little village in Ukraine. I am sitting on my bed amongst strategically placed and not so strategically placed piles of clothing wondering how the hell I am going to get all this crap back into my suitcases. What better way for a procrastinator to get her shit together than to just stare and then open up her computer and start writing a blog entry. Talk about productivity!
Well, as far as I know, or so they tell us, our little cluster, in our little village has seemingly, successfully completed training. Tomorrow we lug all of our belongings to the hole-in-the-wall ‘magazine’ (convenience store) and hop on the bus bound for Kiev where we will learn our site-placements and take part in a few meetings/ceremonies culminating in the much anticipated ‘Swearing-In’ Ceremony where we, the group of now I think 72 of us, will be official sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers and our service will start. (Supposedly, there will be media at the Swearing-In so perhaps some of you computer savvy people can find the broadcast).
(In true form, re: procrastination… I am coming back to writing this two hours later after being Boodish Kooshited – this is our bastardization of Boodish Kooshite which means ‘Will you eat?’ – our families usually chase us around the house saying this at some point in time or another… usually just as we come in the front door).
I don’t think it is humanly possible for me to describe the last month and a half accurately. Let’s just say, training was a bitch, but also a very necessary learning experience. At least four hours of language study a day, followed by technical and cross-cultural classes, then in addition, we had to produce and manage a mini-project… in a village of 2,500. They didn’t think we could do it. In fact, they were pretty sure we couldn’t, but we gave it our all and surprising enough our little cluster of 5 people managed to organize a health seminar and successfully present it in a very potentially sustainable way. So within the time-frame of a few weeks… we got some project management, logistics, budget, grant-writing, and PR/marketing experience amongst other things. We also discovered that the 5 of us work well together as a group… and after working together, we are still all good friends, if not closer for it. Go team.
Within training we have faced many challenges… my challenges revolved around having to deal with various ailments (most recently a nasty head cold, a kind of severe allergic reaction to Ukrainian mosquitos and intestinal parasites – yum – all at the same time), teenage host-siblings, having the cord to my A/C Adapter on my computer go up in smoke (literally), trying to navigate a diet where the few vegetables that I was getting were doused in mayonnaise, and having my first semi-stalkerish experience with the men in Ukraine, and realizing that I can’t always go for a walk when I want in Ukraine when I need to clear my head.
But not to worry, all challenges turn into learning experiences, right? Like having to say over and over again to disbelieving family members that food drenched in mayonnaise causes intestinal distress for me… they don’t know me well enough to know that most food causes some kind of distress for me, but now there are more salads without mayonnaise. I can’t say that the mayonnaise has been eliminated from my food, but I am only doubled over in crippling stomach pain maybe once a week instead of 5 times a week. And, who knew some intestinal parasites are killed with a single pill… Who knew?
As for the computer cord, since my adapter wasn’t damaged in the mini-explosion, which was likely caused from my repetitive tripping over the cord at various points in time both prior to Ukraine and here, I was able to plug Conor’s cord into my adapter and still get juice. Now this arrangement was all fine and dandy during training, but I was dreading when we split off and go to site. What would I do? Thus ensued a two-week search in where I had to try and navigate with my crappy Russian to find a replacement Adapter. I got many odd looks like – Girl, you CRAZY – your adapter is American, this is Ukraine… funny how this situation seemed to sum up a lot of my experiences here.
But, as with many things in life, being in the right place at the right time and remembering to bring up something you heard weeks ago… like that Jay knew of a used computer parts store and actually asking Jay at the right moment (when we were standing across the street from said mystery store)… Jay accompanying me across the street only to find out that the guy did not have an adapter that would work… BUT, that there was a guy, just downstairs, that could actually repair the busted cord. And, said guy repaired the cord… for less than $3. I thanked the man who repaired my cord with Ballshaya Spaciba-s (big thanks) and then I also told him that I loved him. I’m sure he was really impressed since I was drenched in sweat (did I mention that it has been hitting the mid-90s here?) and looking slightly deranged (re: Amy + heat not a good combo). (I should probably have also prefaced this story with the information that we aren’t allowed to receive packages from the states during training – so there is a replacement adapter ready to be sent to me at my parents house, but with nowhere to send it – huh). So all is well, I can power-up my own computer now at least until said replacement can arrive in the mail.
But really, nobody wants to hear about my mayonnaise battles and my master quest for a computer cord. Although seemingly monumental to me, these situations are going to be part of my day to day life for the next two years. Learning how to navigate in a world where at this point in time a lot of your communication is comparable to how a small child communicates… by pointing at things that you want, speaking in a very broken and stunted way, making expressive facial gestures to get the point across, and running away and/or shutting yourself in your room when you want to be left alone. One has to rely on the kindness of strangers to either get the point across or to find what you need. We have to build a new network of friends and family that we can rely upon when we are having a tough day, or just need to laugh at how ridiculous some of the situations that we are put in are, or just need to get a computer cord fixed. I’m happy to say that the people that I am sharing this experience with are all super cool and there is not a doubt in my mind that a lot of these people are going to be my friends for life. I say that with all sincerity, and not because I am trying to avoid packing all my crap away.
And on that note, time to get packing. There is a lot of work to do here before I can get on that bus to Kiev tomorrow.
Well, as far as I know, or so they tell us, our little cluster, in our little village has seemingly, successfully completed training. Tomorrow we lug all of our belongings to the hole-in-the-wall ‘magazine’ (convenience store) and hop on the bus bound for Kiev where we will learn our site-placements and take part in a few meetings/ceremonies culminating in the much anticipated ‘Swearing-In’ Ceremony where we, the group of now I think 72 of us, will be official sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers and our service will start. (Supposedly, there will be media at the Swearing-In so perhaps some of you computer savvy people can find the broadcast).
(In true form, re: procrastination… I am coming back to writing this two hours later after being Boodish Kooshited – this is our bastardization of Boodish Kooshite which means ‘Will you eat?’ – our families usually chase us around the house saying this at some point in time or another… usually just as we come in the front door).
I don’t think it is humanly possible for me to describe the last month and a half accurately. Let’s just say, training was a bitch, but also a very necessary learning experience. At least four hours of language study a day, followed by technical and cross-cultural classes, then in addition, we had to produce and manage a mini-project… in a village of 2,500. They didn’t think we could do it. In fact, they were pretty sure we couldn’t, but we gave it our all and surprising enough our little cluster of 5 people managed to organize a health seminar and successfully present it in a very potentially sustainable way. So within the time-frame of a few weeks… we got some project management, logistics, budget, grant-writing, and PR/marketing experience amongst other things. We also discovered that the 5 of us work well together as a group… and after working together, we are still all good friends, if not closer for it. Go team.
Within training we have faced many challenges… my challenges revolved around having to deal with various ailments (most recently a nasty head cold, a kind of severe allergic reaction to Ukrainian mosquitos and intestinal parasites – yum – all at the same time), teenage host-siblings, having the cord to my A/C Adapter on my computer go up in smoke (literally), trying to navigate a diet where the few vegetables that I was getting were doused in mayonnaise, and having my first semi-stalkerish experience with the men in Ukraine, and realizing that I can’t always go for a walk when I want in Ukraine when I need to clear my head.
But not to worry, all challenges turn into learning experiences, right? Like having to say over and over again to disbelieving family members that food drenched in mayonnaise causes intestinal distress for me… they don’t know me well enough to know that most food causes some kind of distress for me, but now there are more salads without mayonnaise. I can’t say that the mayonnaise has been eliminated from my food, but I am only doubled over in crippling stomach pain maybe once a week instead of 5 times a week. And, who knew some intestinal parasites are killed with a single pill… Who knew?
As for the computer cord, since my adapter wasn’t damaged in the mini-explosion, which was likely caused from my repetitive tripping over the cord at various points in time both prior to Ukraine and here, I was able to plug Conor’s cord into my adapter and still get juice. Now this arrangement was all fine and dandy during training, but I was dreading when we split off and go to site. What would I do? Thus ensued a two-week search in where I had to try and navigate with my crappy Russian to find a replacement Adapter. I got many odd looks like – Girl, you CRAZY – your adapter is American, this is Ukraine… funny how this situation seemed to sum up a lot of my experiences here.
But, as with many things in life, being in the right place at the right time and remembering to bring up something you heard weeks ago… like that Jay knew of a used computer parts store and actually asking Jay at the right moment (when we were standing across the street from said mystery store)… Jay accompanying me across the street only to find out that the guy did not have an adapter that would work… BUT, that there was a guy, just downstairs, that could actually repair the busted cord. And, said guy repaired the cord… for less than $3. I thanked the man who repaired my cord with Ballshaya Spaciba-s (big thanks) and then I also told him that I loved him. I’m sure he was really impressed since I was drenched in sweat (did I mention that it has been hitting the mid-90s here?) and looking slightly deranged (re: Amy + heat not a good combo). (I should probably have also prefaced this story with the information that we aren’t allowed to receive packages from the states during training – so there is a replacement adapter ready to be sent to me at my parents house, but with nowhere to send it – huh). So all is well, I can power-up my own computer now at least until said replacement can arrive in the mail.
But really, nobody wants to hear about my mayonnaise battles and my master quest for a computer cord. Although seemingly monumental to me, these situations are going to be part of my day to day life for the next two years. Learning how to navigate in a world where at this point in time a lot of your communication is comparable to how a small child communicates… by pointing at things that you want, speaking in a very broken and stunted way, making expressive facial gestures to get the point across, and running away and/or shutting yourself in your room when you want to be left alone. One has to rely on the kindness of strangers to either get the point across or to find what you need. We have to build a new network of friends and family that we can rely upon when we are having a tough day, or just need to laugh at how ridiculous some of the situations that we are put in are, or just need to get a computer cord fixed. I’m happy to say that the people that I am sharing this experience with are all super cool and there is not a doubt in my mind that a lot of these people are going to be my friends for life. I say that with all sincerity, and not because I am trying to avoid packing all my crap away.
And on that note, time to get packing. There is a lot of work to do here before I can get on that bus to Kiev tomorrow.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Photos
http://picasaweb.google.com/acwoodstock/FirstPicsUkraine?feat=directlink
Cut and paste in your browser. Send me an email if you have any problems.
Cut and paste in your browser. Send me an email if you have any problems.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Time Flies When You are Eating Tons of Mayonaise
Time is literally flying here. I can’t keep track of the days. The last week went by in a blink. I’m not even sure what happened last week. I mean, we laugh A LOT in our group whether it’s busting on each other or just getting a kick out of the fact that one of the words in the Russian language that we use a LOT is ‘Kak’ pronounced ‘cock’. One of the highlights of one of our language classes was when Conor asked a question with the word ‘kak’ in it and Kim innocently said, “Conor likes ‘kak’.”, and then immediately realized what she had said mid-sentence. That one definitely brought on some tears of laughter.
On Wednesday the 21st we took a tour of the library in Chernigiv where we were given library cards and invited to join the English Club. They mentioned how John La Plante, the 81 year old Peace Corps volunteer from Connecticut had started both the English and the French Club at the library, but that since he had left they had found a replacement to run the English Club, but that they hadn’t found anyone to run the French Club. So guess who opened her big fat mouth and said, “I speak French!”? Yep, that would be me. So I committed to running the French Club once a week until I leave at the end of June. I think it’s kind of funny. One of the reasons that I was bummed that I wasn’t sent to Africa is that I wouldn’t be using my French. Who would have thought I would be speaking French in Ukraine? Crazy.
My family takes me to the sauna or as they call it the banya. My host-parents and their friends rent a private sauna suite. We have gone the past two Thursday nights. Things I have learned… First, that you are supposed to wear a wool cap in the sauna. This one puzzled me a lot. It’s freaking hot as hell in there and then you want to trap the heat in? I didn’t get it. My Russian wasn’t enough where I could ask why, so I asked my sister who speaks English why… I guess they wear hats to protect their hair from the dry heat. Who knew?
The people here like what they call ‘the contrast’, and this explains a little about all the Russian/Ukrainians on Brighton Beach/Coney Island that would go swimming in the winter when it was freaking cold in New York. You go in the sauna, get hot, start to sweat, then go and dump ice cold water on yourself or go outside in the snow, or just cold as it is at night here right now. Hot/Cold/Hot/cold for two hours. There is a lot of shooting the shit and eating sunflower seeds. The men drink beer and the women drink tea and water. My host-dad tried to tell me the other night that drinking beer at the banya was good for you, but then my host-mom started screaming Niet, Niet!! (No! No!) and then miming heart palpitations and saying that it was bad for me. I told her she didn’t have to worry, and that I have no desire to get super hot and sweaty and then dehydrate myself even more. It’s hot, I don’t want to pass out. My host dad is 4 inches shorter than me, who would carry me home?
First night at the banya, my host-mom dragged me around like a small child. She showed me the toilet, to go outside to cool off, to take a cold shower after being in the hot sauna, etc. As the night came to a cap, she also showed me that we should shower and wash our hair before we went home. This is where the not quite understanding the language bit me in the ass. She explained the shower, then I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do so I paused and then she said, is it okay if we shower together? I thought the look of horror on my face was really obvious, but she stripped off her bathing suit and started showering, so I really didn’t have much choice, but to do the same. So within two weeks here, I’ve seen my host-mom naked. My host dad also walks around the house without a shirt on, and my host-sister dashed around in her underwear one day… I guess, they must accept me as one of the family. Nakedness is good, right?
Clash of the Titans is opening next weekend at the movie theater. I’m not exactly sure if it will be dubbed or just subtitled in Russian, but I am pretty pumped to get to see a movie here. It’s also time to start planting potatoes here. My family is planting on Saturday. I wonder if I will be included. I offered to help in the garden a week ago, but they told me I didn’t have to. We’ll see. I’d be happy to help, but then again, I do get very little free time here so usually when we have free time we head to the city to get internet access and café lattes. I’m also learning to play cribbage, which I am pretty pumped about.
Beck Newman is a Rock Star for having coffee with me on Skype.
I’m blanking on a lot of stuff that happened at the moment. I will try to be a more conscientious blogger in the future.
Ah funny story of the day. We get a coffee break during Russian lessons about halfway through. Conor is meat deprived in his host-family, so Kim brought Conor a hotdog from her host-house. Many jokes ensued about Kim slipping Conor the wiener. Natasha, our Russian teacher, asked me “What does this mean, wiener?” So I explained that ‘wiener’ is another word for ‘hotdog’, but also ‘wiener’ is another word for ‘penis’. I should mention that Natasha is very good-humored and patient with us. So she giggled about this as well.
On Wednesday the 21st we took a tour of the library in Chernigiv where we were given library cards and invited to join the English Club. They mentioned how John La Plante, the 81 year old Peace Corps volunteer from Connecticut had started both the English and the French Club at the library, but that since he had left they had found a replacement to run the English Club, but that they hadn’t found anyone to run the French Club. So guess who opened her big fat mouth and said, “I speak French!”? Yep, that would be me. So I committed to running the French Club once a week until I leave at the end of June. I think it’s kind of funny. One of the reasons that I was bummed that I wasn’t sent to Africa is that I wouldn’t be using my French. Who would have thought I would be speaking French in Ukraine? Crazy.
My family takes me to the sauna or as they call it the banya. My host-parents and their friends rent a private sauna suite. We have gone the past two Thursday nights. Things I have learned… First, that you are supposed to wear a wool cap in the sauna. This one puzzled me a lot. It’s freaking hot as hell in there and then you want to trap the heat in? I didn’t get it. My Russian wasn’t enough where I could ask why, so I asked my sister who speaks English why… I guess they wear hats to protect their hair from the dry heat. Who knew?
The people here like what they call ‘the contrast’, and this explains a little about all the Russian/Ukrainians on Brighton Beach/Coney Island that would go swimming in the winter when it was freaking cold in New York. You go in the sauna, get hot, start to sweat, then go and dump ice cold water on yourself or go outside in the snow, or just cold as it is at night here right now. Hot/Cold/Hot/cold for two hours. There is a lot of shooting the shit and eating sunflower seeds. The men drink beer and the women drink tea and water. My host-dad tried to tell me the other night that drinking beer at the banya was good for you, but then my host-mom started screaming Niet, Niet!! (No! No!) and then miming heart palpitations and saying that it was bad for me. I told her she didn’t have to worry, and that I have no desire to get super hot and sweaty and then dehydrate myself even more. It’s hot, I don’t want to pass out. My host dad is 4 inches shorter than me, who would carry me home?
First night at the banya, my host-mom dragged me around like a small child. She showed me the toilet, to go outside to cool off, to take a cold shower after being in the hot sauna, etc. As the night came to a cap, she also showed me that we should shower and wash our hair before we went home. This is where the not quite understanding the language bit me in the ass. She explained the shower, then I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do so I paused and then she said, is it okay if we shower together? I thought the look of horror on my face was really obvious, but she stripped off her bathing suit and started showering, so I really didn’t have much choice, but to do the same. So within two weeks here, I’ve seen my host-mom naked. My host dad also walks around the house without a shirt on, and my host-sister dashed around in her underwear one day… I guess, they must accept me as one of the family. Nakedness is good, right?
Clash of the Titans is opening next weekend at the movie theater. I’m not exactly sure if it will be dubbed or just subtitled in Russian, but I am pretty pumped to get to see a movie here. It’s also time to start planting potatoes here. My family is planting on Saturday. I wonder if I will be included. I offered to help in the garden a week ago, but they told me I didn’t have to. We’ll see. I’d be happy to help, but then again, I do get very little free time here so usually when we have free time we head to the city to get internet access and café lattes. I’m also learning to play cribbage, which I am pretty pumped about.
Beck Newman is a Rock Star for having coffee with me on Skype.
I’m blanking on a lot of stuff that happened at the moment. I will try to be a more conscientious blogger in the future.
Ah funny story of the day. We get a coffee break during Russian lessons about halfway through. Conor is meat deprived in his host-family, so Kim brought Conor a hotdog from her host-house. Many jokes ensued about Kim slipping Conor the wiener. Natasha, our Russian teacher, asked me “What does this mean, wiener?” So I explained that ‘wiener’ is another word for ‘hotdog’, but also ‘wiener’ is another word for ‘penis’. I should mention that Natasha is very good-humored and patient with us. So she giggled about this as well.
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