I looked forward to it for so long, I can’t believe it’s already over. I met them (Paul, his girlfriend Amanda, and Peter) at the airport and let out a few jumps of joy before taking them back to Kiev and the most luxurious accommodation we’ve ever stayed in as a family. I had gotten the apartment earlier that day and just lounged around for a bit enjoying the (temporary) feeling of wealth. We took a nap because everyone was tired from traveling, and then ventured out for a walk in the sweltering city. We had weather in the high 90s the whole trip, and in both overnight trains, only our compartment’s window didn’t open. The second time we joked that it would be funny if the one compartment window we saw unopened was ours, but it really wasn’t (funny). Ok, it kind of was. In a sweaty, miserable sort of way. The whole trip we never stopped sweating (Amanda smartly carried around a sock to wipe her face, I was just gross); the heat made us lethargic and less willing to be tourists, but we soldiered on.
Day 2 we visited the Cave Monasteries (Amanda and I had to cover our heads and shoulders with scarves, which cancelled out the cool air in the caves) and the WWII Museum (where we posed for fun photos with the Soviet realist statues), and walked over to the Hydro Park to dip our feet in the Dnipro. We also had lunch at a swanky restaurant on a boat, which made us all uncomfortable with its prices. We compensated for the extravagance with dinner at a Ukrainian-style cafeteria, where the four of us ate for $13 (we went back two more times during the trip, it was more our style). We rounded out the night in Kiev with a shot of Ukrainian vodka to fortify ourselves for the visit to Chernobyl the following morning.
After a two-hour drive, we went through passport control at the entrance to the exclusion zone and met our guide, who had a funny habit of making jokes and then saying, “It’s a joke.” We passed by the Lenin statue and a boat graveyard before monitoring radioactive moss, feeding giant catfish (seriously, over 6 feet long!) and seeing the sarcophagus of the melted reactor, covered by a complex of concrete and scaffolding. Later, we visited the ghost town where the Chernobyl workers and their families used to live. The shells of buildings remain, but inside is rubble and chaos, eerily photogenic. Books scattered thickly on the floor of the library and school forced us to desecrate their pages, there was nowhere else to step. Nature is doing the demolition work with quiet efficiency.
Back in Kiev, we dipped our feet in a fountain at Independence Square to cool off before our overnight train to Ivano. We were traveling first class with our own private coupe, but the heat made privacy irrelevant, as we left our door open for a breeze from the window in the hall and lounged around in sports bras and boxers drinking beer. After an hour bus ride, we finally arrived in Kolomiya (I had liked the B&B from G.L.O.W. so much I booked it for this trip!) The owner picked us up at the station, commenting politely that we looked like we had been on an overnight train. True story. My friend Abbey and her friend were waiting for us to hike to Shepherd’s Valley and enjoy some tasty cheese, but all we wanted to do was immerse ourselves in some form of water, so we split the ride but bailed on the hike, opting to hang out a waterfall by the base of the mountains instead. It was a good choice, sitting in the rapids and exploring along the river. We also practiced our Dima-squatting, sunflower-shelling skills—Amanda wins for finding it a painless experience.
Dinner was family style at the B&B, and then Vitaliy gave us a ride to the rock bar I asked about (my friend Sean, who lives in Kolomiya, said it was a cool place). Eventually we got the bartender to understand that we girls wanted creative cocktails and the boys would have beer (Dad, it was your birthday, we drank to you). We just asked for something new each round. A local guy put a kink in the beer and cocktails plan by inviting us over to his friends’ table to share a bottle of vodka, so the boys and Amanda got to experience that side of Ukrainian hospitality. Good times ensued, and I miraculously remembered the way home.
We woke up on time for breakfast, (I think I was the only one who ate it all, and I also got to speak French with the other guests!) and then unanimously decided—in a wordless conference—to go back bed for several hours, rather than catching an early bus to explore the biggest bazaar in Europe at our next stop. Eventually we made it to Chernivtsi, where we chatted for a bit with the slightly bizarre British owner of our hostel (he mostly just seemed lonely), before waiting out the heat a little more. Once our hunger overcame our heat-induced comas, we ventured out for a walk and late lunch. The city is beautiful and reminds me architecturally of Lviv and Budapest, since all three were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The man at the next table over kept trying to get us to share his bottle of vodka, but we were not about to do that again. The waitress brought me the wrong soup and then made a fuss when I informed her of her mistake. Customer service is an American concept. I ate the soup. We saw the strange, redbrick, Arabic-influenced university building (I kept trying to walk into places where we weren’t allowed—my philosophy is keep walking till someone makes you stop), and hoolyatied (the verb “to walk” is synonymous with “to hang out” in Ukrainian) around the hilly, leafy city, calling it an early night to avoid drinks with the crazy Finnish guy (who talked real fast and his eyes were THIS BIG) and the hostel owner.
The next day we saw two castles! For the first, we packed a picnic lunch and grabbed a cab (it was $1.25). Its exterior was impressively well preserved, and we had fun clambering around and exploring every crevice that didn’t say “Life Danger.” We picnicked in the shadow of the castle; Amanda finally got to try beer cheese (it lived up to her expectations) and I made everyone try halva (which they decided looked like gray poop, but tasted pretty good). We explored the next castle just as thoroughly as the first, using photo flash exploration for the dark and scary bits. I was outvoted for swimming in the gorge afterwards (the castle is set dramatically on a river bend across from the old city), so we sat in the shade of some trees overlooking the river and the castle and worked on our bag of sunflower seeds before finding a place for dinner.
The overnight train rolled in to Kozyatyn at 4:30 in the morning, so we stumbled back to my apartment and crashed for a few more hours, until the sun made it uncomfortable to sleep. Then we field-tripped to the bazaar to test our sour cream on the backs of our hands and choose our favorite fresh cheese, along with everything else on our shopping list. My favorite part of the trip was hanging out in my apartment and making borscht and holubtsi for dinner, doing the Yaworsky side proud. We took a little walk in the evening to see the island, and then played a sampling of drinking games and watched Friends in Ukrainian just for fun.
The next day we went with Kamilia to another local place to swim, but it started to rain and there was trash everywhere so we didn’t stay long. On the ride home, Amanda and I formed a plan. We would all buy the most ridiculous Ukrainian outfit we could find for less than 100 UAH, and then go out our last night in Kiev. To that end, we scoured the second-hand shops in my town, coming up with a fancy number for her and a lacy see-through shirt for me.
Our last night in K-town we had a shashlik celebration at the rehab center for Andrei’s birthday (it was a couple other guys’ birthdays as well, so it was quite the spread). Kamilia and her son and Sasha from English club were also there (along with Slava, Pasha, Marina, and Andrei), so Amanda and the boys got to meet most of my friends (we also ran into Anya buying a watermelon the day before—she was getting ready to visit the U.S. with Matt!) It was even more fun than I could have hope for: Peter ended up speaking Spanish to some guy who learned it in prison, and Paul and Amanda were having an animated conversation with Pasha and Marina, so I turned back and forth and enjoyed both events.
On our last full day, we rode the electrishka to Bilky to visit Olha. There they finally got the full taste of Ukrainian hospitality, filling up on homemade borscht before potatoes and meat cutlets and fish and tomatoes and cucumbers and bread and crepes filled with sweet cheese and doused in sour cream…and then watermelon and apples and pears. Paul tried his hand at toasting, and Peter kept our glasses full, so they were good male guests. Her garden is amazing. She offered us use of the summer shower (the water is heated in a barrel by the sun), but we knew we would just keep sweating, so we opted for a brief cuddle (the boys on the couch in the living room and me and Amanda in my old bed) before heading back to Kiev.
Once there, we got another apartment from the same lady (this one with air conditioning and a fancy shower!!!) and set out to find the boys some proper clothes. It was late for shopping, but we actually had good luck in one of the stores in the underground mall beneath Independence Square (near our apartment). Peter got a rainbow striped, faded tee, and Paul bought one three sizes too small, rolling up his jeans to make man’pris. We had a fake dance party photo session in the living room, then went out to look for a club, but gave up and went to Potato House instead.
The last morning was filled with souvenir shopping (buying four bottles of vodka before 9 am), with McDonalds and Olha’s leftovers for breakfast back at the apartment, plus one more chance to snuggle with the boys before sending them off on a bus to the airport. I’m excited for all of them to begin new chapters in their lives: Paul and Amanda in their new apartment starting grad school at Binghamton (they’re getting a cat!), and Peter as a first year at Bowdoin!
I was really sad to see them go though, and just wanted to get out of Kiev. That was complicated by the fact that I had to transport three massive suitcases with me: the spoils of America. I combined the two duffels into one, but each step was arduous and the result painful. The escalator at the train station was broken. The station is also located uphill from the Peace Corps office. It was a million degrees outside, and the bags weighted the same as the atmosphere. I slowly dragged each suitcase up the stairs. Then I realized that my train was leaving from the local train station, to the right of the main Vokzal. I carried those blasted things up the stairs for no reason! I kept looking imploringly at strong men until one offered to help me carry the million pound duffle. He carried it all the way to the gate and asked for 5 hyrven, I happily obliged. A few more steps and I got it on the train. Two-and-a-half hours to Kozyatyn. Off the train. Into a taxi. Up three flights of stairs. Collapse. I have bruises on my arms, and my shoulders have been sore for three days, even after two sessions of yoga. But I got 5 lbs. of licorice and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups!
I’ve been recovering ever since. The candy helps. So do episodes of Glee. Best is when the two are combined. I leave tomorrow for four days of In-Service Training in Kiev, and then nine days of vacation in Crimea. School starts two days later. I’m exhausted, but summer was great.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Big Dirt (end of July)
I was home for a week, just long enough to do lots of laundry, paperwork and planning, a bit of exercise, and sit around in my underwear in my apartment, sweating by day and being eaten alive by mosquitoes at night, since I have to leave my balcony door open to have any chance of a breeze, and windows don’t have screens here. I went with Matt and Anya to a place in the river where you can lounge in the rapids—it was worth the 3 hours public transport to get there, and the hour waiting to hitchhike back, to be able to immerse myself in a cool body of water. I also went with Kamilia and her son to another local watering hole, a little closer but more prosaic; it was a large pond with a sandy bottom and grassy banks, located on the grounds of a children’s camp. When I wasn’t home sitting around sweating in my underwear (which I seem to have done a lot of this ridiculously hot summer, including right now as I type this), my social engagements included sitting on a bench in the park with Pasha, Marina, and anyone else who happened to walk by, once it had cooled off enough in the evening to venture outdoors. I will need to channel “The Giver” and store these hot summer days in my memory, for use later when I am freezing in an unheated apartment come winter.
Camp IKNOW preparations were stressful, since I was supposed to bring two students, but the second one kept changing, as kids chicken out or parents changed their minds. Finally I called Kamilia and asked if her best student wanted to come. She is only entering 7th form, which made her the youngest student at camp and disadvantaged linguistically, because many students were in 9-11th forms and some had just graduated. But she earned herself a niche as a little fairy princess for being so cute and braiding all the counselors’ hair after day 3 or 4 with no shower. She is not shy and does what she wants no matter what you tell her, but I still think she got something out of camp so I’m satisfied. (I was worried on the train when I asked what she’d done at camp before, and she said “rested,” and on the first day when she said she had a headache and was laying in her tent once lessons started, but I let her rest for ten minutes and she got up by herself.)
My other student was a gem, all the counselors agreed. Her tent leaked, she slept in a cold wet sleeping bag, her favorite shirt got a stain from another wet shirt whose color bled onto it—I came up with the brilliant solution for her to tie-dye that shirt instead of a white one, so no one would notice the stain—but she never complained. She filled up buckets from the well several times a day, volunteered to wash dishes even when her team wasn’t on duty, confided in me that she learned at camp many things she had unknowingly done before to hurt the environment that she wanted to change (which she put into practice the day we saw her carrying all her candies from town in her hands, having politely declined a plastic bag), and was a rock star bouncer/money collector/public relations representative on the night of our eco-disco fundraiser.
I headed up Team Blue with Ashley, another volunteer, and our four girls were so sweet and hard-working, even when we made them peel and chop vegetables for an hour, or mop the floor by hand, or go talk to everyone they saw on the day we did community needs assessment. That makes it sound like camp was horrible, but actually it was really fun. We started each day with morning wake-up call (the anthem for which became this ridiculous song called “Running on the Beach” that is an inside joke with Peter and Katy’s family) and mandatory exercise (students could choice between running or another activity, usually games, except I did yoga on the last day). Teams had different cooking duties each day, but Team Blue distinguished itself with tasty dishes, especially “Mexican Night” (for which the beans were delivered pre-cooked by the director of the Center who we ran into at the bazaar), and I was proud of our inventive use of leftovers. We slept in tents and had to lug water from a neighbor’s well for cooking and washing, but we had the Eco Center building for classes, so it was a pretty nice set-up.
Classes were on leadership, Project Design and Management (we went through all the steps and the students actually completed a project of their own design, an eco-disco to raise money to install trash cans on the beach; at the disco they also organized a trivia game with prizes to educate participants), and specific problems related to the environment in Ukraine. We also had morning and evening games, campfires on the nights it didn’t rain, and an excursion to a local castle.
On the last night we had a shashlik celebration with real s’mores (I demonstrated proper marshmallow roasting technique)! The meat wasn’t ready till 10 pm (at which point I busted out my handy headlamp to see my food), so we ate Peter’s birthday cake first and did affirmations, taping a piece of paper to everyone’s back and writing nice things about them.
Quite apart from the kids having a good time, the counselors had a lot of fun too, adopting orphan kittens and reminiscing about Little House on the Prairie, and getting caught in a downpour on our way back from a grocery run at the bazaar. A FLEX alum came and talked to the students about opportunities to study in America, and their enthusiasm was catching (she also taught them cheerleading, for which they got equally excited). One morning we were awoken at 6 am by two boys who had climbed to the balcony of the eco-center to remove the flag and run around singing the Ukrainian national anthem. That was an interesting cultural difference being out west—students rebuked me for using Russian words! I countered by saying Surjik is a cultural reality where I live in Ukraine. My girls and I were the last group to leave—besides the leaders Katy and Peter—so we helped clean up camp and then had a Ukrainian-style farewell with the directors: tea and chocolates and fruit on the front lawn.
Camp IKNOW preparations were stressful, since I was supposed to bring two students, but the second one kept changing, as kids chicken out or parents changed their minds. Finally I called Kamilia and asked if her best student wanted to come. She is only entering 7th form, which made her the youngest student at camp and disadvantaged linguistically, because many students were in 9-11th forms and some had just graduated. But she earned herself a niche as a little fairy princess for being so cute and braiding all the counselors’ hair after day 3 or 4 with no shower. She is not shy and does what she wants no matter what you tell her, but I still think she got something out of camp so I’m satisfied. (I was worried on the train when I asked what she’d done at camp before, and she said “rested,” and on the first day when she said she had a headache and was laying in her tent once lessons started, but I let her rest for ten minutes and she got up by herself.)
My other student was a gem, all the counselors agreed. Her tent leaked, she slept in a cold wet sleeping bag, her favorite shirt got a stain from another wet shirt whose color bled onto it—I came up with the brilliant solution for her to tie-dye that shirt instead of a white one, so no one would notice the stain—but she never complained. She filled up buckets from the well several times a day, volunteered to wash dishes even when her team wasn’t on duty, confided in me that she learned at camp many things she had unknowingly done before to hurt the environment that she wanted to change (which she put into practice the day we saw her carrying all her candies from town in her hands, having politely declined a plastic bag), and was a rock star bouncer/money collector/public relations representative on the night of our eco-disco fundraiser.
I headed up Team Blue with Ashley, another volunteer, and our four girls were so sweet and hard-working, even when we made them peel and chop vegetables for an hour, or mop the floor by hand, or go talk to everyone they saw on the day we did community needs assessment. That makes it sound like camp was horrible, but actually it was really fun. We started each day with morning wake-up call (the anthem for which became this ridiculous song called “Running on the Beach” that is an inside joke with Peter and Katy’s family) and mandatory exercise (students could choice between running or another activity, usually games, except I did yoga on the last day). Teams had different cooking duties each day, but Team Blue distinguished itself with tasty dishes, especially “Mexican Night” (for which the beans were delivered pre-cooked by the director of the Center who we ran into at the bazaar), and I was proud of our inventive use of leftovers. We slept in tents and had to lug water from a neighbor’s well for cooking and washing, but we had the Eco Center building for classes, so it was a pretty nice set-up.
Classes were on leadership, Project Design and Management (we went through all the steps and the students actually completed a project of their own design, an eco-disco to raise money to install trash cans on the beach; at the disco they also organized a trivia game with prizes to educate participants), and specific problems related to the environment in Ukraine. We also had morning and evening games, campfires on the nights it didn’t rain, and an excursion to a local castle.
On the last night we had a shashlik celebration with real s’mores (I demonstrated proper marshmallow roasting technique)! The meat wasn’t ready till 10 pm (at which point I busted out my handy headlamp to see my food), so we ate Peter’s birthday cake first and did affirmations, taping a piece of paper to everyone’s back and writing nice things about them.
Quite apart from the kids having a good time, the counselors had a lot of fun too, adopting orphan kittens and reminiscing about Little House on the Prairie, and getting caught in a downpour on our way back from a grocery run at the bazaar. A FLEX alum came and talked to the students about opportunities to study in America, and their enthusiasm was catching (she also taught them cheerleading, for which they got equally excited). One morning we were awoken at 6 am by two boys who had climbed to the balcony of the eco-center to remove the flag and run around singing the Ukrainian national anthem. That was an interesting cultural difference being out west—students rebuked me for using Russian words! I countered by saying Surjik is a cultural reality where I live in Ukraine. My girls and I were the last group to leave—besides the leaders Katy and Peter—so we helped clean up camp and then had a Ukrainian-style farewell with the directors: tea and chocolates and fruit on the front lawn.
G.L.O.W.!!! (mid-July)
Camp G.L.O.W. was one of the highlights of my Peace Corps service to date. I felt we really made a difference in the lives of the 17 girls who participated, pushing them to work hard each day and have fun too. I also enjoyed my first experience as a real camp counselor. I was constantly amazed at the discussions the girls led on the topics we presented: candid responses showed critical thinking and creativity, which are my greatest priorities as a teacher in Ukraine.
Our schedule left little time for sleep, but the B&B we stayed at was so nice, and the owners so accommodating, that we couldn’t have asked for better conditions for a “camp.” We had to remind the girls that they only needed one shower a day, they should eat all their delicious home-cooked food, and they shouldn’t take advantage of the free internet to check the Ukrainian version of Facebook every ten seconds, but we had no serious discipline issues, and whenever we asked more of the girls they gave it.
I taught yoga for the first time, which was quite empowering for myself, realizing I could teach other people something that I love, and it could be useful to them. Camille and I switched off running and doing yoga with the girls, so I got to lead a few girls on their first run ever! Apart from morning exercise, we had 2-3 lessons each morning, and a few more after lunch. A guest speaker from an counter-human-trafficking organization came, and a PEPFAR trainer had an HIV/AIDS session with the girls in which he kicked out the PCVs and Ukrainian counterparts so they wouldn’t be afraid to ask questions (bananas were involved in that lesson, and I think the message was well-received, judging from the animated voices emanating from behind the closed door).
Project Design and Management lessons throughout the week culminated in poster presentations of potential projects the girls could do at site. Themed lessons addressed Leadership, Counter-Trafficking, HIV/AIDS, Domestic Violence and Self-Defense (Camille taught the girls punches and kicks and they all got to throw her, which was a highlight for many!) We also had a field day with games including toilet paper mummy wrap, a water balloon toss (Natasha and I were masters, thanks to my skills developed with Brigid over many Yaworsky Campouts), and an anti-climactic tug-of-war, which end abruptly when the rope snapped.
Excursions included Kolomiya, to visit the Pysanky (Painted Easter Egg) Museum—which was shaped like a giant egg itself—and the Hutsul Culture Museum, and then to the Carpathians, to hike to Shepherd’s Valley through the woods and mountains and mud, to see where farmers live for several months at a time without electricity or running water, making brinza (cheese that tastes like feta) the same way it has been made for generations (the wheels of cheese age in the rafters, naturally smoked by the wood fire in the cabin). We had a delicious meal of cheese with tomatoes and cucumbers and a special local polenta dish at the mountaintop meadow, frolicked a bit, Sound of Music style, and then stripped down to essentials to cool off in a mountain stream.
On the last night, teams put on an imaginative variety show that featured an excellent extraterrestrial. We got the girls autograph books and they stayed up the entire last night, taking advantage of every moment with their new friends before the tearful goodbyes in the morning. For some, it was the first time they had ever been away from home without their families, and the first time they met girls from other parts of Ukraine.
Our schedule left little time for sleep, but the B&B we stayed at was so nice, and the owners so accommodating, that we couldn’t have asked for better conditions for a “camp.” We had to remind the girls that they only needed one shower a day, they should eat all their delicious home-cooked food, and they shouldn’t take advantage of the free internet to check the Ukrainian version of Facebook every ten seconds, but we had no serious discipline issues, and whenever we asked more of the girls they gave it.
I taught yoga for the first time, which was quite empowering for myself, realizing I could teach other people something that I love, and it could be useful to them. Camille and I switched off running and doing yoga with the girls, so I got to lead a few girls on their first run ever! Apart from morning exercise, we had 2-3 lessons each morning, and a few more after lunch. A guest speaker from an counter-human-trafficking organization came, and a PEPFAR trainer had an HIV/AIDS session with the girls in which he kicked out the PCVs and Ukrainian counterparts so they wouldn’t be afraid to ask questions (bananas were involved in that lesson, and I think the message was well-received, judging from the animated voices emanating from behind the closed door).
Project Design and Management lessons throughout the week culminated in poster presentations of potential projects the girls could do at site. Themed lessons addressed Leadership, Counter-Trafficking, HIV/AIDS, Domestic Violence and Self-Defense (Camille taught the girls punches and kicks and they all got to throw her, which was a highlight for many!) We also had a field day with games including toilet paper mummy wrap, a water balloon toss (Natasha and I were masters, thanks to my skills developed with Brigid over many Yaworsky Campouts), and an anti-climactic tug-of-war, which end abruptly when the rope snapped.
Excursions included Kolomiya, to visit the Pysanky (Painted Easter Egg) Museum—which was shaped like a giant egg itself—and the Hutsul Culture Museum, and then to the Carpathians, to hike to Shepherd’s Valley through the woods and mountains and mud, to see where farmers live for several months at a time without electricity or running water, making brinza (cheese that tastes like feta) the same way it has been made for generations (the wheels of cheese age in the rafters, naturally smoked by the wood fire in the cabin). We had a delicious meal of cheese with tomatoes and cucumbers and a special local polenta dish at the mountaintop meadow, frolicked a bit, Sound of Music style, and then stripped down to essentials to cool off in a mountain stream.
On the last night, teams put on an imaginative variety show that featured an excellent extraterrestrial. We got the girls autograph books and they stayed up the entire last night, taking advantage of every moment with their new friends before the tearful goodbyes in the morning. For some, it was the first time they had ever been away from home without their families, and the first time they met girls from other parts of Ukraine.
Lviv, Miss Benes, the 4th, and Ukrainian Boot Camp (end of June/beginning of July)
My trip back was equally smooth. Once across the border, I decided on a whim to take an overnight train to Lviv, and visit the city for a day with 2 other volunteer friends who happened to be in town. On the train I met a young Ukrainian who works abroad in Italy and only comes home once every few years, so naturally he was excited to speak Ukrainian! He even paid for me to doze in the chairs of the first class lounge for a few hours after he continued on his journey home, until it was a decent hour for me to visit the city. I explored by myself in the morning, and visited a beautiful cemetery later, with Heather and David (we also had liquid chocolate at a cafe--yum). We spent the night at Suzanne’s, who lives an hour from Lviv. All of us in GAD want to be Suzanne when we grow up; she’s 60 going on 25 and one of the coolest people I know. I was exhausted from my travels, and it was cold and rainy out, so I stayed in her apartment all day and got treated to gourmet meals from Suzanne and Heather’s boyfriend, both superb chefs. Suzanne and I were supposed to go to Ivano-Frankivsk to meet another volunteer and learn how to use a special publishing program for the GADFly, but we ended up using Microsoft Publisher on Suzanne’s computer, so I helped a bit with the layout, but the brunt of the work fell on her, and I finally made it back home.
I’ve been away from site a lot this summer, but each time I finish a trip, I can’t wait to turn the keys to the door in my apartment (at the same time holding my breath, in case I find a fruit fly infestation or a toilet situation). Traveling makes me appreciate home more and more, wherever “home” might be!
I was home for less than a week, and caught up immediately in the whirlwind surrounding the imminent arrival of Miss Jessica. I finally got the chance to meet my predecessor face to face, but it felt more like greeting an old friend, since I’ve heard so much about her. We made (correction: burned) brownies at Kamilia’s, and ate around the burnt bits and foil as we sipped tea and had a slumber party. The next day, Larissa hosted an English teacher luncheon (though Lena wasn’t there, Natasha and her daughter Dasha were), and Jessica managed a nap in her bedroom while I went home to nap too before going to Slava’s birthday shashlik picnic on the island and then to Jessica’s favorite bar with Matt and Anya. I’m tired again just thinking about it! I planned a picnic on the 4th to meet the new volunteers, and we took a ferry on the river in Vinnytsia to a really nice spot.
Ukrainian Language Refresher was sort of like a summer camp for PCVs. The days they put out Kit-Kats for snack were infinitely better than the days when gross giant Ukrainian marshmallows showed up. We had morning games and team activities and each team was “on duty” one night. Optional activities included Ukrainian folk dancing, canning and conserving (I managed to shatter the glass jar we were using to practice sealing, but putting our blueberry jam on everything at dinner sufficiently made up for it). I sold GAD merchandise at meals and was the captain of Team Bandit Bears (Vedmedykiy Banditiy), so I was more visible than usual at these kinds of events, but I still hung out mostly with Lauren and Meghan. I did meet several other 37ers that I’ve never seen before, including my roommate Jordan, who I went running with a few mornings. I enjoyed the chance to formally study Ukrainian again, with elective classes on prickly topics that constantly give volunteers grief. I also forced myself to take the Language Proficiency Exam again, in hopes that personal shame would later make me more willing to study. The personal shame part proved right (I guessed correctly that I had only marginally improved my entire time at site), but so far no studying has resulted; we’ll see what happens in the fall.
This summer has alternated between weeks of blistering heat with unfortunately timed patches of cold and rainy reprieve. The whole week at Refresher was chilly when we could have been swimming in the river, but it’s a bazillion degrees whenever I’m home near my polluted river; it also rained at baseball camp and environmental camp, when we slept in tents. True to form, the weather heated things up in time for my overnight train to Kolomiya for G.L.O.W. Before that though, I spent a nice afternoon walking around Lutsk with the volunteers who live there.
I’ve been away from site a lot this summer, but each time I finish a trip, I can’t wait to turn the keys to the door in my apartment (at the same time holding my breath, in case I find a fruit fly infestation or a toilet situation). Traveling makes me appreciate home more and more, wherever “home” might be!
I was home for less than a week, and caught up immediately in the whirlwind surrounding the imminent arrival of Miss Jessica. I finally got the chance to meet my predecessor face to face, but it felt more like greeting an old friend, since I’ve heard so much about her. We made (correction: burned) brownies at Kamilia’s, and ate around the burnt bits and foil as we sipped tea and had a slumber party. The next day, Larissa hosted an English teacher luncheon (though Lena wasn’t there, Natasha and her daughter Dasha were), and Jessica managed a nap in her bedroom while I went home to nap too before going to Slava’s birthday shashlik picnic on the island and then to Jessica’s favorite bar with Matt and Anya. I’m tired again just thinking about it! I planned a picnic on the 4th to meet the new volunteers, and we took a ferry on the river in Vinnytsia to a really nice spot.
Ukrainian Language Refresher was sort of like a summer camp for PCVs. The days they put out Kit-Kats for snack were infinitely better than the days when gross giant Ukrainian marshmallows showed up. We had morning games and team activities and each team was “on duty” one night. Optional activities included Ukrainian folk dancing, canning and conserving (I managed to shatter the glass jar we were using to practice sealing, but putting our blueberry jam on everything at dinner sufficiently made up for it). I sold GAD merchandise at meals and was the captain of Team Bandit Bears (Vedmedykiy Banditiy), so I was more visible than usual at these kinds of events, but I still hung out mostly with Lauren and Meghan. I did meet several other 37ers that I’ve never seen before, including my roommate Jordan, who I went running with a few mornings. I enjoyed the chance to formally study Ukrainian again, with elective classes on prickly topics that constantly give volunteers grief. I also forced myself to take the Language Proficiency Exam again, in hopes that personal shame would later make me more willing to study. The personal shame part proved right (I guessed correctly that I had only marginally improved my entire time at site), but so far no studying has resulted; we’ll see what happens in the fall.
This summer has alternated between weeks of blistering heat with unfortunately timed patches of cold and rainy reprieve. The whole week at Refresher was chilly when we could have been swimming in the river, but it’s a bazillion degrees whenever I’m home near my polluted river; it also rained at baseball camp and environmental camp, when we slept in tents. True to form, the weather heated things up in time for my overnight train to Kolomiya for G.L.O.W. Before that though, I spent a nice afternoon walking around Lutsk with the volunteers who live there.
In the land of Pest (late June)
I left baseball camp on an overnight train to the border (met a rich student from Nigeria who studies in Kharkiv and travels the world in the summer), waited a few hours to go through passport control, and took a little two-wagon train to the neighboring Hungarian town. I didn’t have any forint on me and had to reserve a seat to Budapest, but a kind American man bought my ticket and helped me orient myself on the train. He lives in Ukraine with his Russian wife and they were flying with their children to visit family in the States. I was amazed at the ease with which each part of the trip was completed, considering I had booked no tickets in advance.
I got to the hostel and found out that Heather wasn’t getting in till much later that night, so I did my usual exploratory walk, had delicious goulash at a cafeteria-style restaurant in a giant covered market, took a nap and woke up to French (some guys from Montreal were staying in our room!) and checked out the other side of the Danube on a glorious sunset stroll. Budapest is beautiful! Its architecture has dark details, giving the city a mysterious appeal; you can sense its tortured past in the statues that labor to hold up balconies and buildings, supporting the weight of the stones through the centuries. Actually though, much of the architecture currently visible in Budapest dates only to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, with some concrete communist beauties mixed in, and bullet-holes peppering various buildings for a dash of local flavor.
When Heather walked through the door, it was like no time had passed! I love the security of a steady friendship. We stayed up late drinking tea and eating cookies in the hostel courtyard, and were eventually joined by two of the Montreal boys; one was drunk, so the rest of us amused ourselves outwitting him. He would say inappropriate things in French, forgetting that Heather and I both speak it. We had a week to leisurely explore the city, so we joined a few free walking tours (regular, communist, and Jewish—the last they paired with a pub crawl to lighten the mood after visiting the old ghetto), went on a failed quest, and ate our weight in goulash. Most travelers stayed for only 2 nights on whirlwind Euro tours; Brazilians therefore quickly replaced the French Canadians. We taught them “Cheers, Gov’na!” and they caught on quickly. Our last day we went on a field trip to the “countryside” and drooled over local delicacies, then indulged in several hours at one of Budapest’s most renowned spas, where we alternately lounged in naturally heated thermal springs, a steam room, and a cold pool. Heather also treated me to a massage for my birthday, so we both had fun experiences with terse Hungarian ladies. The indulgences continued at a ruined bar (a brilliant Hungarian invention to recycle dilapidated buildings they can’t afford to renovate into partially open-air bars with creatively used junk for seating and decoration), where we had a sampling of tasty cocktails and chatted for a long time with a pair of Dartmouth grads.
I got to the hostel and found out that Heather wasn’t getting in till much later that night, so I did my usual exploratory walk, had delicious goulash at a cafeteria-style restaurant in a giant covered market, took a nap and woke up to French (some guys from Montreal were staying in our room!) and checked out the other side of the Danube on a glorious sunset stroll. Budapest is beautiful! Its architecture has dark details, giving the city a mysterious appeal; you can sense its tortured past in the statues that labor to hold up balconies and buildings, supporting the weight of the stones through the centuries. Actually though, much of the architecture currently visible in Budapest dates only to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, with some concrete communist beauties mixed in, and bullet-holes peppering various buildings for a dash of local flavor.
When Heather walked through the door, it was like no time had passed! I love the security of a steady friendship. We stayed up late drinking tea and eating cookies in the hostel courtyard, and were eventually joined by two of the Montreal boys; one was drunk, so the rest of us amused ourselves outwitting him. He would say inappropriate things in French, forgetting that Heather and I both speak it. We had a week to leisurely explore the city, so we joined a few free walking tours (regular, communist, and Jewish—the last they paired with a pub crawl to lighten the mood after visiting the old ghetto), went on a failed quest, and ate our weight in goulash. Most travelers stayed for only 2 nights on whirlwind Euro tours; Brazilians therefore quickly replaced the French Canadians. We taught them “Cheers, Gov’na!” and they caught on quickly. Our last day we went on a field trip to the “countryside” and drooled over local delicacies, then indulged in several hours at one of Budapest’s most renowned spas, where we alternately lounged in naturally heated thermal springs, a steam room, and a cold pool. Heather also treated me to a massage for my birthday, so we both had fun experiences with terse Hungarian ladies. The indulgences continued at a ruined bar (a brilliant Hungarian invention to recycle dilapidated buildings they can’t afford to renovate into partially open-air bars with creatively used junk for seating and decoration), where we had a sampling of tasty cocktails and chatted for a long time with a pair of Dartmouth grads.
To Ujgorod and Beyond! (mid-June)
Immediately after my camp I headed to Ujgorod in Zakarpattia to celebrate Lauren and Sean’s birthdays. We had shashlik at a river with a bunch of PCVs and Ukrainians (the Zakarpatska crew are so close they get to see each other all the time, so it’s a solid group). There was an old mill on the river, so we jumped off the concrete embankment into a deep channel for some thrills. Later we watched a bit of the World Cup in a bar and played Catch-Phrase (wild and crazy party!) in the apartment they rented. Alia and I went on a quest for “Supersnacks” around 3, and convinced Lauren to join us on a sunrise stroll when we returned. On Sunday we walked around town and saw the castle and a cute open-air museum with period housing. It reminded me again of Laura Ingalls, and I stand fast to the belief that rural Ukraine bears a striking similarity to “Little House on the Prairie.”
That night, Sean, Alia, and I took the train to Ternopil for Camilla’s baseball camp. Matvi, Nikita, and Ian joined us there, so the camp was well staffed by PCVs. We stayed at a “hotel” that cost $2.50 a night (the toilet was at the end of the hall, and there were no showers). My baseball experience consists of years of watching my brothers advance through Little League. Baseball has a lot of weird rules that don’t make much sense, especially if you’re a Ukrainian kid who has never seen the game before. It made me realize that Americans like complicated sports. We had kids running the wrong way, lapping their slower teammates around the bases, chasing after people to make outs…it was amusing. The fun continued as we tried to explain pop flies and forced outs and automatic walks. The 4th graders were so cute though, and Camilla is trying to get them ready for Little League in Ukraine, which has a championship tournament in Odessa in May. We went to a sauna one night (personally I find it somewhat masochistic, because it’s borderline unbearable and yet I try to convince myself that I enjoy the sweat). We alternated between skin-prickling dry heat and an ice-cold tub—which my days in Maine prepared me well for. Another day we packed a picnic (after shopping in a giant Wal-Mart-esque store—so exciting!) and ate by the lake in the center of Ternopil, a lovely, leafy green city, under whose waters lies buried a railway depot destroyed during WWII. We also had time to hang out in Camilla’s gorgeous house—her host parents work in Moscow for months at a time, and they make good money in an unidentified business.
That night, Sean, Alia, and I took the train to Ternopil for Camilla’s baseball camp. Matvi, Nikita, and Ian joined us there, so the camp was well staffed by PCVs. We stayed at a “hotel” that cost $2.50 a night (the toilet was at the end of the hall, and there were no showers). My baseball experience consists of years of watching my brothers advance through Little League. Baseball has a lot of weird rules that don’t make much sense, especially if you’re a Ukrainian kid who has never seen the game before. It made me realize that Americans like complicated sports. We had kids running the wrong way, lapping their slower teammates around the bases, chasing after people to make outs…it was amusing. The fun continued as we tried to explain pop flies and forced outs and automatic walks. The 4th graders were so cute though, and Camilla is trying to get them ready for Little League in Ukraine, which has a championship tournament in Odessa in May. We went to a sauna one night (personally I find it somewhat masochistic, because it’s borderline unbearable and yet I try to convince myself that I enjoy the sweat). We alternated between skin-prickling dry heat and an ice-cold tub—which my days in Maine prepared me well for. Another day we packed a picnic (after shopping in a giant Wal-Mart-esque store—so exciting!) and ate by the lake in the center of Ternopil, a lovely, leafy green city, under whose waters lies buried a railway depot destroyed during WWII. We also had time to hang out in Camilla’s gorgeous house—her host parents work in Moscow for months at a time, and they make good money in an unidentified business.
Last Bell and School-Leavers (end of May/beginning of June)
On the last Saturday in May, I went to the citywide graduation ceremony on the square, and it poured right before the start. The girls wore evening gowns, doves were released into the sky, Patricia Kaas blared from the loudspeakers, ceremonial bread was gifted—due pomp and circumstance were observed. I stood with Sasha, whose niece was graduating, and marveled at how American his friend looked: a casual t-shirt over an ample belly, flip-flops, neatly buzzed hair and a baseball cap. Afterwards, I went to the concert for School #5, which consisted of everything I have come to expect in a Ukrainian concert: song, dance, flowers, skits, and speeches, with the whole shebang lasting several hours.
The first week after classes ended I went to school until noon each day, like the other teachers. I prepared for camp, and typed up test questions for the 9th form exam. Kamilia let me do laundry at her place. I also tried on jeans in the back of an unmarked van at the bazaar. Huzzah for impromptu and slightly inappropriate changing rooms! Stalker boy (the one who tricked me into the interview-date) struck 5 times in the night, with consecutive calls and mysterious texts: “Ketlin! Your very buatiful nise and big head GIRL.” I do not appreciate multiple calls at 3 am, and if I ever run into this kid again, I will tell him so. I’ve made friends with the water lady at the bazaar, who likes to chat when I come to fill up my 6 liter bottles. On the way to work I saw frogs plop into the pond, taking me back to the days when my brothers and I would catch them with butterfly nets in the ponds we named Mike and Ike. In the middle of yoga I got fed up and took a pair of craft scissors to my bangs—they survived the assault. My carpets took a worse beating, when I decided finally to drag them out on the balcony and take a stick (which was actually the hose of my non-functioning vacuum cleaner—how’s that for irony?) to them. Beating carpets is hard work! I’m also pretty sure I broke all the laws of carpet-beating etiquette, by raining dust down on my neighbors from the 3rd floor.
The second week of June I had my own English Camp at site, with a solid crew of about 20 kids, mostly 7th formers. A PCV friend stayed for the week to help me, and Kamilia was able to come for a few days also. I stole the format and content from other volunteers, who adapted it from the old volunteer at my site, so it’s a tried-and-true formula! We played games and solved riddles and had contests in English, and on the last day we had a picnic feast and played their favorite games. They gave me an entire smoked fish as a thank you present and begged me to do an extra week next year, so I’ll count that as a success!
The first week after classes ended I went to school until noon each day, like the other teachers. I prepared for camp, and typed up test questions for the 9th form exam. Kamilia let me do laundry at her place. I also tried on jeans in the back of an unmarked van at the bazaar. Huzzah for impromptu and slightly inappropriate changing rooms! Stalker boy (the one who tricked me into the interview-date) struck 5 times in the night, with consecutive calls and mysterious texts: “Ketlin! Your very buatiful nise and big head GIRL.” I do not appreciate multiple calls at 3 am, and if I ever run into this kid again, I will tell him so. I’ve made friends with the water lady at the bazaar, who likes to chat when I come to fill up my 6 liter bottles. On the way to work I saw frogs plop into the pond, taking me back to the days when my brothers and I would catch them with butterfly nets in the ponds we named Mike and Ike. In the middle of yoga I got fed up and took a pair of craft scissors to my bangs—they survived the assault. My carpets took a worse beating, when I decided finally to drag them out on the balcony and take a stick (which was actually the hose of my non-functioning vacuum cleaner—how’s that for irony?) to them. Beating carpets is hard work! I’m also pretty sure I broke all the laws of carpet-beating etiquette, by raining dust down on my neighbors from the 3rd floor.
The second week of June I had my own English Camp at site, with a solid crew of about 20 kids, mostly 7th formers. A PCV friend stayed for the week to help me, and Kamilia was able to come for a few days also. I stole the format and content from other volunteers, who adapted it from the old volunteer at my site, so it’s a tried-and-true formula! We played games and solved riddles and had contests in English, and on the last day we had a picnic feast and played their favorite games. They gave me an entire smoked fish as a thank you present and begged me to do an extra week next year, so I’ll count that as a success!
5/27/10: Princesses, Peanut Butter, Strawberries and Rocks
I am a recent devotee of the health food blog Kath Eats Real Food (so much so that I’m giving her a free plug here, so go check out her Tribute to Oatmeal and be amazed). Homemade whipped banana oatmeal with walnuts and domashniy syr, plus any combo of dried or fresh fruit, honey and poppy seeds, fruit preserves, or peanut butter is the most satisfying breakfast I have ever had. Today I used up my last spoonful of peanut butter, and am looking forward to what she calls “Oatmeal In A Jar” to catch the dregs of peanut buttery goodness clinging to its sides. (Less exciting is the prospect of several months without peanut butter, before my brothers show up with a magical suitcase full of goodies). Next was a glorious meandering run through the pleasant grid of Ukrainian small town life. I resolved to go up and down every dirt road I had passed, as soon I had finished surveying the perimeter (i.e. running till there was nowhere left to run, where houses give way to endless fields, and babuysias stoop to pay homage to the earth). I have seen some interesting gardening outfits—an old lady in capris and a bra, an old man in a Speedo—it reminded me of how sometimes girls wear bikinis while they ride the lawnmower and work on their tan.
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