IST, Crimea, and First Bell

In-Service Training was the usual combination of inspirational and daunting, to hear volunteers talk about their successful projects and brainstorm how I might achieve similar results. The two PCV facilitators both started “volunteerism schools” at their sites, with students creating and implementing their own service-learning projects and taking ownership of every step in the process. They had different approaches—one got the kids inspired with a successful project and then backtracked to help them see what they had learned, whereas the other started from a more formal training model, with students learning the theory first and then putting it into practice with their own ideas. I really want to start something like this at site, to teach my students about leadership, volunteerism, problem solving, creative thinking, and civic responsibility. The student I took to Camp IKNOW is all excited to work on an environmental project, and even called me while I was in Yalta to ask about the needs assessment questionnaire she was writing (I broke into uncontrollable laughter with my friends over the realization of how differently we all speak with our students, when I said “the Nature is very dirty,” with an exaggerated British accent to her on the phone). But, naturally, I am very excited to harness her enthusiasm, and then rope other students in too. Wish me luck. The conference was good, though it started on my birthday and I didn’t know anyone there (besides my counterpart Lena). It was mostly 38ers (newbies), so I got to meet a lot of people and we went out for drinks at a local bar after the day’s sessions. It was nice to meet the new group of Youth and Community Development volunteers, because they have the education and work experience that I want, so it’s always great to hear their stories. I asked Lena what was the most useful thing she got out of the conference and she said the English practice, but she also said that she understands a little more about Project Design and Management, and where I’m coming from when I talk about what I want to do at school (not just teach English). So I consider that worth it. At the conference I also met some girls from my group who I’ve never seen before (it happens a lot). One lives in Simferopol and offered us her apartment, so I’m glad I decided not to book any accommodations, and opted instead for flexibility in our trip to Crimea.

That choice served us well. We stayed for two nights at Adrianne’s (for the first night she wasn’t even there—she let another group of PCVs hand off her spare key to us!) We had a late, leisurely lunch, and then decided to spend the early evening in Sevastopol on the coast, to see the water and jump-start our vacation. We rode in the front of the bus, where the people without tickets go (Alia had to wait around the corner until the driver passed the check point). Sevastopol was as I had imagined—clean and white, a city on the sea. We strolled the boardwalk and had a glass of wine and some Tatar street food before heading back to Simferopol. The next day we ventured to Bakchysaray, to see the cave monasteries dug out of the cliff-side (reminded me of Mesa Verde), and then the Khan’s Palace. A local PCV and his Ukrainian friend were our guides, so we made sure to get the Tatar food they recommended at this great restaurant, where we lounged on pillows, eating soup with homemade noodles and a dish of giant, steamed meat dumplings. That night we shared a few bottles of wine with Adrianne and her friend, and traveled with them the next day to Stary Krym to see another volunteer for her birthday. The plan was to do some hiking, but we got there too late to do anything serious, so we just took a walk in the hills outside town and then hopped on the first bus we could—it took us to Koktebel, so there we went. I had written down numbers for apartments, but no one wanted to rent to us for less than 5 days, so we were heading somewhat dejectedly to check out the cheapest hotel when a guy offered us a place to stay, and he drove us there to check it out! He was embarrassed when he found out we were Americans, because there was an outhouse and summer shower, but we liked the rustic atmosphere and decided to stay for two nights. Our living/dining room was open-air with a view of the mountains, so it would have been awesome if the Ukrainian girls also staying there didn’t host a big party both nights—and use our space! The first night I asked them to move to their own space because we wanted to go to bed early, so they took our table up to their patio and didn’t return it till after we had breakfast, which was kind of annoying (as was the fact that the next night they just had their party on our patio, right outside my bedroom). They only spoke Russian, so there were several things lost in translation. I am going to miss being able to talk about people right in front of them though. It’s quite satisfying and convenient. The first night we had a picnic dinner on the beach and then walked along the boardwalk, gorging on giant slices of delicious cake. The next day we bought more food and wine for the beach, and went a little outside of town to find a nice spot—some people had built rock circles in the water for lounging, so we drank our wine there! It felt quite luxurious. Dinner was ridiculously overpriced, and I’m pretty sure the fatty, questionably cooked chicken made me sick to my stomach, because I was ill for the rest of the trip. We all got sick though (so maybe it wasn’t the chicken?), and kept vying for the title of “temporarily worst off.” Re-hydration salts taste nasty, I don’t care what Alia and Meagan say! Despite feeling like crap, we departed for Sudak to visit its really well preserved Genoese fortress, and proceeded on to Novy Svit to camp out on the beach. Our prospects were looking grim and night was falling, when we finally stumbled upon the other backpackers and staked out a pebbly section of our own. It was the first time I’ve ever slept under the stars without a tent, and it couldn’t have been a more perfect night: calm and warm, with a full moon and no wind. Of course, my bowels could have cooperated, but at least the weather was nice. I will tell you though that a night on the beach and 16 hours on the train with stomach problems is not much fun (especially when they lock the toilet near bigger stops). Our next stop was Yalta. We sprung for a nice apartment—Shower! Toilet! Hot water!—and it was only a 5-minute walk to the water. It was also a treat to just relax and watch television, even though they dubbed Gossip Girls in Russian. We had McDonalds for breakfast on the main square near the Lenin statue (he stares down the golden arches, creating perhaps the most ironic architectural juxtaposition ever), and I brought my own ketchup because they charge almost as much for a packet as for a hamburger. I had bought ketchup for our homemade Mac ‘n cheese, and was inspired to bring it to breakfast. We visited Livadia Palace, where the Yalta Conference was held, and saw several other palaces and beautiful gardens. They next day we got stranded at a poor excuse for a waterfall, and a harrowing taxi-ride later we were whizzing up a cable car to the top of Ay-Petri, with gorgeous views and obnoxious vendors (the whole trip it got progressively worse, till we couldn’t stand them any more). Meagan and Alia had an earlier train home, so I slept in and went to the beach by myself in Yalta before heading back to Simferopol. When I got back to Kozyatyn, it was 45 degrees colder than when I had left! WTF?!!

First Bell marks the Day of Knowledge on September 1st, and operates the same as Last Bell, so classes didn’t start till the 2nd. Of course, the schedule isn’t finalized, and there are no books or program for the 10th form, so it seems like institutionalized chaos will be standard for the next week or two. I was at Natasha’s to do my volunteer reporting form (it’s not Mac-compatible—boo), and we had an enlightening conversation about the need for educational reform in Ukraine. She helped me realize that the root of the problem lies in a lack of accountability or consequences. Students aren’t responsible for their own education (if a teacher fails a student, she must tutor him without pay all summer, and it is her fault if he receives bad marks—in theory therefore a student can complete his schooling without ever having absorbed a scrap of knowledge—a scary thought when the societal implications of such a future workforce are considered) or behavior (detention doesn’t exist); teachers are required to spend more time and effort filling out the official journal with detailed lesson plans (regardless of whether they are ever implemented, since more emphasis is given to the color of the pen and the quality of penmanship) than teaching their students. Demo lessons are rehearsed and answers memorized. Cheating is rampant and goes unpunished. These things she knows, but what can she do? She reasons that under communism, people learned to expect the state to give them things: education, a job, food. The idea that people themselves are responsible for their own well-being, and in turn that of their society, is what I hope to teach my kids. I think it will be much more useful than mastering the Present Perfect Continuous Tense.

In other news, I have already resorted to wool blankets; the days of sweating in my underwear seem so long ago. The Lone Mosquito still plagues me at night, however, buzzing brazenly in my ear, despite my entreaties to just bite me and be done with it.