Training ended today! We had our last Ukrainian class Thursday morning, and today was the LPI (Language Proficiency Interview), plus one more official thank-you visit to the local administration—and now we’re free! The LPI was a 10-minute conversation, kind of anti-climactic after 2 months of training (but I did feel satisfied when she said my conversation skills were especially impressive since I arrived 3 weeks late), and then we had tea with the mayor. On Monday, a bus comes to take us to Kiev for the 3-day Swearing-In Conference, and we also find out then where we’ll be living for the next two years. Next Thursday I’ll officially be a Peace Corps Volunteer, after swearing to uphold the U.S. Constitution to the best of my ability in front of the Ambassador. Then all 100+ new volunteers head off to our various permanent sites, cut off from the crutch of our cluster-mates, together with whom we’ve spent every day of training. Just in time to be alone for Christmas! Good thing I came to Ukraine armed with digital copies of my favorite clay-mation Christmas videos! Maybe I’ll make my students watch them, since December 25 is a regular workday here and I’ll probably be teaching.
I still as yet have no idea what the particulars of my site-placement will be, so future internet access is TBD, but a little note about this blog and why I’m writing it: part of Peace Corps service is to provide asked-for technical skills to further the development of the host country, but another goal of Peace Corps is to facilitate cross-cultural understanding—both at home and abroad. So I envision this blog as an interactive forum, where my friends and family can learn about Ukraine and help me introduce Ukrainians to American culture, rather than a space for me to send thoughts off into the ether. To that end, I ask you all to contribute to this online conversation. I can keep a journal for myself, so I’ll only write online if this information is interesting and useful for you—let me know what you want to hear!
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Happy Thanksgiving/Днем подяки!
Thank you all for being in my life. I could wax poetic about what it means to me to have the family and friends that I do, but then I would cry, and I'd rather make you laugh instead. So here is a list of titles that describe moments of my life and impressions of these experiences in Ukraine. Your task, should you choose to accept it, is to write stories to accompany these titles. Some of you have heard sneak peaks from me, but you must decide what to do with the power of your information (creativity and misdirection are encouraged):
The man coat and hysterical laughter;
slumber parties with 60 some-things;
Squirrels (capitalized);
stockings;
Hansel and Gretel and the wicked witch of hair-drying;
social life lamer than 16 year olds (ok, you can probably figure that one out yourself);
Sara and the (red, knock-off, Armani) purse;
History man: a lisp, 9 fingers, and a pumpkin;
steaming jeans and boiling water;
The Tragedy of Olga’s son (this one's actually not funny at all, but provides a sobering reminder of the everyday lives of Ukrainians);
The Arch of Friendship and a couple of beers
Love and a vodka toast to your health!
The man coat and hysterical laughter;
slumber parties with 60 some-things;
Squirrels (capitalized);
stockings;
Hansel and Gretel and the wicked witch of hair-drying;
social life lamer than 16 year olds (ok, you can probably figure that one out yourself);
Sara and the (red, knock-off, Armani) purse;
History man: a lisp, 9 fingers, and a pumpkin;
steaming jeans and boiling water;
The Tragedy of Olga’s son (this one's actually not funny at all, but provides a sobering reminder of the everyday lives of Ukrainians);
The Arch of Friendship and a couple of beers
Love and a vodka toast to your health!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Photos!
I tried to think of the best way to share photos with anyone who wants a visual representation of my Peace Corps experience. Here's the link:
http://yaworsky.shutterfly.com/
Let me know what you think!
http://yaworsky.shutterfly.com/
Let me know what you think!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Holubtsi and Halloween
Happy Halloween everyone! I’ve successfully survived two weeks in Ukraine and have started to establish some routines and wrap my head around training.
Then again, my training is anything but routine. The Minister of Ukraine mandated a three-week closure of all schools and universities due to H1N1, so we are officially in “quarantine.” Peace Corps Headquarters even called each volunteer to announce the “Alert” stage of EAP (Emergency Action Plan), which is just a fancy way of saying, “Pay attention to the news and don’t use public transport/go far from your site.” Last week schools were also closed for fall break. So after a month in Ukraine (7 weeks for everyone else), I will have observed two lessons and taught none. Yet the technical aspect of my training is supposed to consist of observing at least 10 classes taught by Ukrainian English Teachers and my fellow trainees, in addition to planning and teaching 15 of my own lessons. Even though we won’t be teaching for a while, Peace Corps has decided that we will plan lessons anyway, since we may be able to use them at site (and it’s good practice).
Despite the quarantine, we still have 4 hours of Ukrainian every day, on top of which I have 3 hours of individual tutoring each week (everyone else has 1). We have a coffee break halfway through, and go to the store (one of two in Bilky) after the lesson to buy food for lunch, which we cook at our LCF’s house (we almost invariably eat bread, kielbasa, cheese, and vareniky—aka pierogi—with sour cream and tea). On top of language training we have technical training, so even though we aren’t teaching, we have lesson planning, sessions with our TCF (basically seminars on predetermined topics twice a week, once being Saturday morning). Then each week there is usually a special session, which alternates between health and safety training and visits from Peace Corps staff to evaluate training—next week we have our Site Placement Interviews!!! We are also working on a Community Project together with the Borova group: we will be recording dialogues from the English books the school uses, conducting a demo lesson at a seminar for the English teachers in the community, and compiling a guidebook with examples for each stage in lesson planning using the communicative approach.
Olya leaves breakfast out for me, which I heat on the stove, and we eat dinner and do the dishes together (though she always give me more food). I live 2 minutes from my LCF’s house, so those who know me as Pokey will be happy to hear that I am never late, nor early, but arrive precisely when I mean to. Even without a lengthy commute (everyone else has between a 15-30 minute walk) I feel like every minute gets used for work, so I allow myself only a few minutes before bed to read, and I do yoga once a week. I haven’t gone running yet, but yesterday we didn’t start till noon, so I went for a walk around the village, since I haven’t really explored it yet. I noticed a lot of half-built houses, or ones with projects underway. Every house has a fence and at least a small garden. There are lots of dogs in the street, and they are not nice. Only the main road is paved. The landscape reminds me of Auburn, which is funny because that’s where my Ukrainian great-grandmother ended up after emigrating. The town center has a “department store,” several other shops, library, bazaar, post office, and a few pharmacies.
Two Sundays ago was chore day. Olya and I made liver’n’lung pies with fresh dough, pinching the edges and spreading egg yolks on top with broken bits of cloth (no pastry brush), and then it took her a few tries to start the gas for the oven, but we baked them along with a tray of cherry pies (which, not surprisingly, I prefer). Next we beat the rugs outside, swept and mopped the floors (with a rag wrapped around a stick—no Swiffer here), and harvested cabbages/weeded the garden for the winter. Yulka (the chained dog that I walk by on my way to the outhouse) and I share the same diet—she gets whatever I don’t eat. Everything else gets composted behind the outhouse.
On Halloween we had a morning session with a PCV about to COS from Lviv (aka advice from a volunteer just finishing his service), and I found it really inspiring. He told us his mistakes and what he would have done differently, and I appreciated the concrete advice. Later, to mark the holiday, I asked Olya if I could invite people over to watch a movie. I waited till the last minute so she couldn’t go out and buy stuff to play hostess, which was a good idea because she still put out tea and fruit and chocolates. Then we watched “El Orfanato” on my bed, which was appropriately terrifying.
Last Sunday Olya and I went to Fastiv, a city half an hour in the other direction (from Kiev). We bought grain for Yulka at the bazaar and walked around a bit, past a giant statue of Lenin. On the train and in the market a lot of people had scarves over their mouth and nose (myself included, since Olya made me—and it was cold). Then back at home I made holubtsi!
It snowed this morning. The first snow—light and fluffy, that melts when it hits the ground, and that you’re excited to see because it’s not February. But I’m unreasonably afraid of the coming winter, considering I’ve lived in Upstate New York and Maine.
The best way I can describe my environment in Ukraine so far would be 1850s meets 1950s meets today: we wash dishes in the bathroom sink and get water from the tub, garden vegetables and preserves are stored in the cellar of the outdoor kitchen, which also has a brick oven for baking bread, I pee in a bucket…but then I go back to watching “Ukraine’s Got Talent,” or Russian soaps, or Ukrainian MTV on cable television, or I sit in the wireless internet café drinking Stella, or Olya’s grandson tells me he plays internet games, wants to be a computer programmer, and listens to Papa Roach. Be-scarved babushkas share the sidewalk with women in high-heels, tight pants, make-up, and trendy tops (our Country Director calls them brick and stick ladies, respectively, and I find the description apt). Also, apparently sniffing hot salt cures the sniffles—any theories on that one? Since I continue to have a stuffy/runny nose, Olya heated salt on the stove and wrapped it in a cloth, which she made me hold against my nostrils, alternating back and forth.
Then again, my training is anything but routine. The Minister of Ukraine mandated a three-week closure of all schools and universities due to H1N1, so we are officially in “quarantine.” Peace Corps Headquarters even called each volunteer to announce the “Alert” stage of EAP (Emergency Action Plan), which is just a fancy way of saying, “Pay attention to the news and don’t use public transport/go far from your site.” Last week schools were also closed for fall break. So after a month in Ukraine (7 weeks for everyone else), I will have observed two lessons and taught none. Yet the technical aspect of my training is supposed to consist of observing at least 10 classes taught by Ukrainian English Teachers and my fellow trainees, in addition to planning and teaching 15 of my own lessons. Even though we won’t be teaching for a while, Peace Corps has decided that we will plan lessons anyway, since we may be able to use them at site (and it’s good practice).
Despite the quarantine, we still have 4 hours of Ukrainian every day, on top of which I have 3 hours of individual tutoring each week (everyone else has 1). We have a coffee break halfway through, and go to the store (one of two in Bilky) after the lesson to buy food for lunch, which we cook at our LCF’s house (we almost invariably eat bread, kielbasa, cheese, and vareniky—aka pierogi—with sour cream and tea). On top of language training we have technical training, so even though we aren’t teaching, we have lesson planning, sessions with our TCF (basically seminars on predetermined topics twice a week, once being Saturday morning). Then each week there is usually a special session, which alternates between health and safety training and visits from Peace Corps staff to evaluate training—next week we have our Site Placement Interviews!!! We are also working on a Community Project together with the Borova group: we will be recording dialogues from the English books the school uses, conducting a demo lesson at a seminar for the English teachers in the community, and compiling a guidebook with examples for each stage in lesson planning using the communicative approach.
Olya leaves breakfast out for me, which I heat on the stove, and we eat dinner and do the dishes together (though she always give me more food). I live 2 minutes from my LCF’s house, so those who know me as Pokey will be happy to hear that I am never late, nor early, but arrive precisely when I mean to. Even without a lengthy commute (everyone else has between a 15-30 minute walk) I feel like every minute gets used for work, so I allow myself only a few minutes before bed to read, and I do yoga once a week. I haven’t gone running yet, but yesterday we didn’t start till noon, so I went for a walk around the village, since I haven’t really explored it yet. I noticed a lot of half-built houses, or ones with projects underway. Every house has a fence and at least a small garden. There are lots of dogs in the street, and they are not nice. Only the main road is paved. The landscape reminds me of Auburn, which is funny because that’s where my Ukrainian great-grandmother ended up after emigrating. The town center has a “department store,” several other shops, library, bazaar, post office, and a few pharmacies.
Two Sundays ago was chore day. Olya and I made liver’n’lung pies with fresh dough, pinching the edges and spreading egg yolks on top with broken bits of cloth (no pastry brush), and then it took her a few tries to start the gas for the oven, but we baked them along with a tray of cherry pies (which, not surprisingly, I prefer). Next we beat the rugs outside, swept and mopped the floors (with a rag wrapped around a stick—no Swiffer here), and harvested cabbages/weeded the garden for the winter. Yulka (the chained dog that I walk by on my way to the outhouse) and I share the same diet—she gets whatever I don’t eat. Everything else gets composted behind the outhouse.
On Halloween we had a morning session with a PCV about to COS from Lviv (aka advice from a volunteer just finishing his service), and I found it really inspiring. He told us his mistakes and what he would have done differently, and I appreciated the concrete advice. Later, to mark the holiday, I asked Olya if I could invite people over to watch a movie. I waited till the last minute so she couldn’t go out and buy stuff to play hostess, which was a good idea because she still put out tea and fruit and chocolates. Then we watched “El Orfanato” on my bed, which was appropriately terrifying.
Last Sunday Olya and I went to Fastiv, a city half an hour in the other direction (from Kiev). We bought grain for Yulka at the bazaar and walked around a bit, past a giant statue of Lenin. On the train and in the market a lot of people had scarves over their mouth and nose (myself included, since Olya made me—and it was cold). Then back at home I made holubtsi!
It snowed this morning. The first snow—light and fluffy, that melts when it hits the ground, and that you’re excited to see because it’s not February. But I’m unreasonably afraid of the coming winter, considering I’ve lived in Upstate New York and Maine.
The best way I can describe my environment in Ukraine so far would be 1850s meets 1950s meets today: we wash dishes in the bathroom sink and get water from the tub, garden vegetables and preserves are stored in the cellar of the outdoor kitchen, which also has a brick oven for baking bread, I pee in a bucket…but then I go back to watching “Ukraine’s Got Talent,” or Russian soaps, or Ukrainian MTV on cable television, or I sit in the wireless internet café drinking Stella, or Olya’s grandson tells me he plays internet games, wants to be a computer programmer, and listens to Papa Roach. Be-scarved babushkas share the sidewalk with women in high-heels, tight pants, make-up, and trendy tops (our Country Director calls them brick and stick ladies, respectively, and I find the description apt). Also, apparently sniffing hot salt cures the sniffles—any theories on that one? Since I continue to have a stuffy/runny nose, Olya heated salt on the stove and wrapped it in a cloth, which she made me hold against my nostrils, alternating back and forth.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Squat Toilets and Ukrainian "So You Think You Can Dance"
Yesterday the group piled into two vans, said a quick goodbye (we won't see each other till the Swearing In ceremony in two months), and shipped out to our training sites. I was the first drop-off. The driver kept turning onto smaller roads, past vast flat fields of black earth, down a dirt road...I sensed we were getting close. He stopped to ask for directions. "Bilky? Never heard of it."
We picked up my LCF, though I didn't realize who she was till we stopped and I pointed out my luggage to the driver, who left me and my mountain of luggage to the tender mercies of my very own babushka. My LCF spent a few minutes translating "Do you have any special food needs, etc. etc." and then left me alone with Olya. We spend most of our time pointing at words in the dictionary. Then she feeds me massive amounts of food and I rub my belly to assure her it is tasty, even though I can only manage--with heroic effort--to down half of it.
Highlights: I got locked in the outhouse and had to bang on the door and yell for Olya to rescue me. There is a block of wood that swings over the door on the outside, probably to keep it from flapping in the wind during the winter or something, but it swung over the door when I was inside, and that was not good. And of course I couldn't explain it so she thought I didn't know how to use the door. While unpacking last night, I discovered my face wash had become unlocked and unloaded half its contents into my toiletry bag, drenching the bottom of my hiking backpack and everything nearby. I'm still trying to scrub the suds out of the fabric, but at least it will be very clean! Right now it's still sticky though, and Olya hung the entire pack on the clothes line, which amuses me. I'm sure she thinks I'm crazy, since I spent a good hour trying to scrub the soap out (it's still not gone). Last night I also peed in a bucket. That was not a mistake. Before going to bed, she pointed to the bucket and said "tooalet," so apparently we don't use the outhouse at night. I made sure she had used it for the intended purpose before I did, in case I had misunderstood. I don't know, however, if the bucket is the proper place for other nighttime bathroom visits, and I don't know how I'm going to figure that out either, without some interesting miming/broken Ukrainian.
The house has running/hot water and electricity. The entryway is part mudroom/part hallway (perpendicular to the door, if that makes sense?), then straight ahead is the kitchen, to the left is the bathroom with sink and tub (and bucket), to the right is her bedroom (with a tv), and through a door off the front hallway slightly to the left is the dining room, left off of that is the living room (with another tv, and a wardrobe where I put all my clothes and suitcases and miscellaneous stuff), and straight through the dining room is my bedroom (minus a door). At night she shuts the dining room door and that acts like my bedroom door, so I essentially have dining room, living room, and bedroom to myself at that point. I have to walk past a chained dog on my way to the outhouse, but she seems nice so I pet her on the head and hope for the best each time. Olya has a big garden (pretty typical for Ukrainians, I'm told--they grow a lot of their own food if they can, since the hyperinflation of the 90s hit incomes hard).
Yesterday after lunch and a quick nap, my LCF (teacher), Svitlana, picked me up and we walked to another trainee's house for a party. I was tired, but I wanted to meet my cluster. We walked past a new neighborhood, and I was shocked by the contrast: the houses were double, triple, quadruple the size of Olya's house, and very elegant. Don't get me wrong, I think Olya's house is lovely, but these houses were nice in a different sort of way. It always surprises me when such contrasts exist in adjacent neighborhoods, but I don't know why I'm so taken aback, since it seems to happen everywhere in the U. S. too. We went to Alia's house and I met her host family (a very jolly--yes, I would describe them as jolly--couple with a 16-year-old daughter and a son somewhere in the 8-12 year range) and the 4 other volunteers I will be training with. We sat around the table and worked our way through a big meal (I had eaten two hours ago), chatting mostly in English, with Svitlana occasionally asking one of them to translate into Ukrainian for the host family. They all seemed to understand most of the Ukrainian spoken and be comfortable responding, so I'm anxious to get started. The tv on the counter was showing a marathon of Ukrainian "So You Think You Can Dance," and everyone was entranced.
Lauren has 9 host siblings, Sean lives with host parents, grand parents, and a 3 year old grandchild, and Sarah's host grandparents live in the next town and happen to host one of the trainees in that cluster, so there's a lot of back and forth visiting between their host families. Borova (sp?) is the "big" town and host to another cluster that together with ours makes a "link." I am sitting in an internet cafe in Borova right now with my LCF and three trainees: it has free wifi and we are all silently typing away at our computers. All of my cluster mates have indoor flush toilets, so they were a little shocked to learn that I did not. Frankly, I was too. I don't mind it, but it would be nice if everyone had similar living conditions, whether rustic or modern. In a perfect world, I would also have a bigger host family, with some host siblings, but I didn't have any say in the matter and I like Olya, so as soon as I can figure out what she's saying I'm sure we'll have a grand old time!
Tomorrow I start language class--I'll go in an hour early to start catching up, and everyone else will come at 10. We meet at Svitlana's house, which is just down the street from mine. The school is also very close. The other trainees all taught their first lessons on Friday and will be teaching more this week. We are also going to Kyiv on Thursday. They have never been! Orientation for the main group took place at an old Soviet resort outside the city. My group had a (very) abbreviated orientation right at Peace Corps Headquarters. Peace Corps only lifted the travel ban for trainees yesterday, so no one has left their training villages since they arrived.
That's all for now; I've got my work cut out for me in the next few weeks, so I doubt I'll have much free time, but I'll post when I do!
We picked up my LCF, though I didn't realize who she was till we stopped and I pointed out my luggage to the driver, who left me and my mountain of luggage to the tender mercies of my very own babushka. My LCF spent a few minutes translating "Do you have any special food needs, etc. etc." and then left me alone with Olya. We spend most of our time pointing at words in the dictionary. Then she feeds me massive amounts of food and I rub my belly to assure her it is tasty, even though I can only manage--with heroic effort--to down half of it.
Highlights: I got locked in the outhouse and had to bang on the door and yell for Olya to rescue me. There is a block of wood that swings over the door on the outside, probably to keep it from flapping in the wind during the winter or something, but it swung over the door when I was inside, and that was not good. And of course I couldn't explain it so she thought I didn't know how to use the door. While unpacking last night, I discovered my face wash had become unlocked and unloaded half its contents into my toiletry bag, drenching the bottom of my hiking backpack and everything nearby. I'm still trying to scrub the suds out of the fabric, but at least it will be very clean! Right now it's still sticky though, and Olya hung the entire pack on the clothes line, which amuses me. I'm sure she thinks I'm crazy, since I spent a good hour trying to scrub the soap out (it's still not gone). Last night I also peed in a bucket. That was not a mistake. Before going to bed, she pointed to the bucket and said "tooalet," so apparently we don't use the outhouse at night. I made sure she had used it for the intended purpose before I did, in case I had misunderstood. I don't know, however, if the bucket is the proper place for other nighttime bathroom visits, and I don't know how I'm going to figure that out either, without some interesting miming/broken Ukrainian.
The house has running/hot water and electricity. The entryway is part mudroom/part hallway (perpendicular to the door, if that makes sense?), then straight ahead is the kitchen, to the left is the bathroom with sink and tub (and bucket), to the right is her bedroom (with a tv), and through a door off the front hallway slightly to the left is the dining room, left off of that is the living room (with another tv, and a wardrobe where I put all my clothes and suitcases and miscellaneous stuff), and straight through the dining room is my bedroom (minus a door). At night she shuts the dining room door and that acts like my bedroom door, so I essentially have dining room, living room, and bedroom to myself at that point. I have to walk past a chained dog on my way to the outhouse, but she seems nice so I pet her on the head and hope for the best each time. Olya has a big garden (pretty typical for Ukrainians, I'm told--they grow a lot of their own food if they can, since the hyperinflation of the 90s hit incomes hard).
Yesterday after lunch and a quick nap, my LCF (teacher), Svitlana, picked me up and we walked to another trainee's house for a party. I was tired, but I wanted to meet my cluster. We walked past a new neighborhood, and I was shocked by the contrast: the houses were double, triple, quadruple the size of Olya's house, and very elegant. Don't get me wrong, I think Olya's house is lovely, but these houses were nice in a different sort of way. It always surprises me when such contrasts exist in adjacent neighborhoods, but I don't know why I'm so taken aback, since it seems to happen everywhere in the U. S. too. We went to Alia's house and I met her host family (a very jolly--yes, I would describe them as jolly--couple with a 16-year-old daughter and a son somewhere in the 8-12 year range) and the 4 other volunteers I will be training with. We sat around the table and worked our way through a big meal (I had eaten two hours ago), chatting mostly in English, with Svitlana occasionally asking one of them to translate into Ukrainian for the host family. They all seemed to understand most of the Ukrainian spoken and be comfortable responding, so I'm anxious to get started. The tv on the counter was showing a marathon of Ukrainian "So You Think You Can Dance," and everyone was entranced.
Lauren has 9 host siblings, Sean lives with host parents, grand parents, and a 3 year old grandchild, and Sarah's host grandparents live in the next town and happen to host one of the trainees in that cluster, so there's a lot of back and forth visiting between their host families. Borova (sp?) is the "big" town and host to another cluster that together with ours makes a "link." I am sitting in an internet cafe in Borova right now with my LCF and three trainees: it has free wifi and we are all silently typing away at our computers. All of my cluster mates have indoor flush toilets, so they were a little shocked to learn that I did not. Frankly, I was too. I don't mind it, but it would be nice if everyone had similar living conditions, whether rustic or modern. In a perfect world, I would also have a bigger host family, with some host siblings, but I didn't have any say in the matter and I like Olya, so as soon as I can figure out what she's saying I'm sure we'll have a grand old time!
Tomorrow I start language class--I'll go in an hour early to start catching up, and everyone else will come at 10. We meet at Svitlana's house, which is just down the street from mine. The school is also very close. The other trainees all taught their first lessons on Friday and will be teaching more this week. We are also going to Kyiv on Thursday. They have never been! Orientation for the main group took place at an old Soviet resort outside the city. My group had a (very) abbreviated orientation right at Peace Corps Headquarters. Peace Corps only lifted the travel ban for trainees yesterday, so no one has left their training villages since they arrived.
That's all for now; I've got my work cut out for me in the next few weeks, so I doubt I'll have much free time, but I'll post when I do!
Friday, October 16, 2009
I made it (so far so good)!!!
I'm sitting in Peace Corps headquarters, 5 needles deep in vaccinations, but I wanted to let people know my training site! I will be in Bilky, a small village to the southwest of Kyiv, and I will study Ukrainian!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Yaworsky returns to the Motherland
You may have heard already, but if not: surprise! I will not be going to Turkmenistan with the Peace Corps. As I wrote earlier, our trip was canceled due to the Turkmen government's apparent affliction with bipolar disorder (they issued visas but then said they didn't want any volunteers this year).
So I had a nice 24 hour trip to Philadelphia and met 47 really cool people, most of whom I will never see again. I also got a delightful sushi dinner out of the ordeal, but as one volunteer remarked, "I think I over-packed for one night."
I called Placement from the airport, leaving a message that I was still interested in Peace Corps service, and that I looked forward to a call once they had more information. 24 hours later I was offered a spot in the Ukraine. I had gotten all excited again about the possibility of Africa, so I was a little hesitant at first, but took 20 minutes to think about it and called back to accept the post. Bottom line: I still want to do Peace Corps, and I want to do it now. I don't want to wait till next year, because my options for short-term employment stateside are frankly more frightening than life in any developing country (though I know my mom is happy I did not get placed in Rwanda, I would take that over Walmart anyday).
Peace Corps has been working overtime trying to place me and my fellow Turkmen rejects (former T-18s), and I'm quite impressed at the results. Through the modern marvels of Facebook, I was able to follow every update, and within 48 hours of leaving Philly, nearly half the group had been offered new assignments. Unfortunately, health volunteers have fewer options than TEFL this time of year, but hopefully they will be placed between January and March. At last count, I think there were 7-9 for Ukraine, about the same for Azerbaijan, 3 to Mozambique, a married couple to Ethiopia, 2 to Tonga, and 1 for The Gambia before the end of the year.
There are 146 people in the Facebook group for volunteers leaving this year for Ukraine, and I read somewhere that the Ukraine actually operates the largest Peace Corps program in the world. The group already left though, so I will be about 3 weeks behind in training by the time I arrive. Hopefully they will put the Turkmen rejects in a "slow kids" training group together, but right now Peace Corps is not sure how training will work. Volunteers in Ukraine learn either Ukrainian or Russian. Although Ukrainian is the official language for the whole country, Russian is more widely spoken in the industrial cities of the east.
Ukraine is a huge country with a large population and a varied geography (from freezing-cold steppes in the north, to a mediterranean climate on the Black Sea, industrial wasteland in the east, and green forests to the west). Living conditions also vary widely between urban and rural areas, with 80 % of volunteers posted to villages that may lack running water, electricity, plumbing, and central heat. I am very glad I have a down sleeping bag.
Peace Corps hopes to have us on a plane by the end of next week/beginning of the week after.
So I had a nice 24 hour trip to Philadelphia and met 47 really cool people, most of whom I will never see again. I also got a delightful sushi dinner out of the ordeal, but as one volunteer remarked, "I think I over-packed for one night."
I called Placement from the airport, leaving a message that I was still interested in Peace Corps service, and that I looked forward to a call once they had more information. 24 hours later I was offered a spot in the Ukraine. I had gotten all excited again about the possibility of Africa, so I was a little hesitant at first, but took 20 minutes to think about it and called back to accept the post. Bottom line: I still want to do Peace Corps, and I want to do it now. I don't want to wait till next year, because my options for short-term employment stateside are frankly more frightening than life in any developing country (though I know my mom is happy I did not get placed in Rwanda, I would take that over Walmart anyday).
Peace Corps has been working overtime trying to place me and my fellow Turkmen rejects (former T-18s), and I'm quite impressed at the results. Through the modern marvels of Facebook, I was able to follow every update, and within 48 hours of leaving Philly, nearly half the group had been offered new assignments. Unfortunately, health volunteers have fewer options than TEFL this time of year, but hopefully they will be placed between January and March. At last count, I think there were 7-9 for Ukraine, about the same for Azerbaijan, 3 to Mozambique, a married couple to Ethiopia, 2 to Tonga, and 1 for The Gambia before the end of the year.
There are 146 people in the Facebook group for volunteers leaving this year for Ukraine, and I read somewhere that the Ukraine actually operates the largest Peace Corps program in the world. The group already left though, so I will be about 3 weeks behind in training by the time I arrive. Hopefully they will put the Turkmen rejects in a "slow kids" training group together, but right now Peace Corps is not sure how training will work. Volunteers in Ukraine learn either Ukrainian or Russian. Although Ukrainian is the official language for the whole country, Russian is more widely spoken in the industrial cities of the east.
Ukraine is a huge country with a large population and a varied geography (from freezing-cold steppes in the north, to a mediterranean climate on the Black Sea, industrial wasteland in the east, and green forests to the west). Living conditions also vary widely between urban and rural areas, with 80 % of volunteers posted to villages that may lack running water, electricity, plumbing, and central heat. I am very glad I have a down sleeping bag.
Peace Corps hopes to have us on a plane by the end of next week/beginning of the week after.
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