A Good Day For Sleeves

Today was a good day for sleeves and it wasn't because of the cold that has set in. I had my last class with my 10th form students today and I just couldn't fight back the tears when it all became quiet and they thanked me for my time with them. I love all my students and teachers at my school, but how I love them is different because love needs that. It needs to find different pathways. With this class, I loved them from the start. The first time we met, I felt their energy and saw in each of their faces such great potential.

I made them a short video to thank them for being such great students and in this video, I included a picture of them from the first year that I started teaching. They were so young and silly and now they're older and more mature (and much taller). I am so glad that I could witness their growth and be a small part of their lives here in Ukraine.

So yes, it was a good day for sleeves, but particularly the sleeves attached to the sweater which I have hand washed, laid on heaters, and worn for two years. I think they were waiting for this moment, preparing and stretching so they could fit far enough over my hands to wipe my eyes from the hardest kind of tears. Is life always this bittersweet?

I know I'll come back to Ukraine. Our heartstrings will forever be entangled. I know it's not my native country, but it has been my home for two years, and a good one, too. I have gotten used to it. I have learned its customs, I have drunk its conyak, prepared and eaten its varenyky, corrected its lack of article grammar mistakes, ridden on its busses, slept (or laid awake on) its night trains, nodded my head through confusing Russian conversations, eaten whatever anyone wanted me to eat, sang Ukrainian harmonies with my teachers in the forest, and found so many dear friends. It has all become a part of me, just like all of the other homes I've found over the years. Homes may not always be tangible, but I have marked their places on my map so I will never be lost.

Don't be fooled. I rolled up my long sleeves and quit being a baby to take this photo...

The Final Countdown But Not The Venus Part Or The Final Part

I just looked up a countdown generator and I don't know how I feel about it. It counts down the seconds, minutes, hours, and days to any date. I thought about getting one for the day I return to the states after Peace Corps but I just don't like the sound of a bunch of numbers that add up to zero.

By counting down, I feel like I'm somehow subtracting from my life. It's a vacuum sucking up all the things that I'm bound to encounter these next few months only to leave me with a clean surface. Though I like to get rid of clutter and see things reflecting off of a shiny clean floor, I want to go slow. I want to take each moment, dust if off, and put it on the shelf instead of throwing it into a dusty bag of hodgepodge memories. What better way to put things neatly on a shelf than to blog it out? Also, what if I get Alzheimers? I've already told you about the moths that keep chewing holes in my brain. I have to try to document things over the next few months in order to recollect the details long after I leave Ukraine.

I want to start by reflecting on the Close of Service (COS) Conference in Chernigov. Yes, we talked about important things like adjusting to life after service, reimbursements, and de-registering from Ukraine, but it was so much more than that. It was an opportunity to see everyone in one place, reflect together, compliment each other, and sing songs until the early morning about burnings and yearnings and all the other -ings of our Peace Corps lives.

This specific blog post is my big hug to all the volunteers I have gotten to know over the past two years. I've decided against the countdown. I'm not counting down anything because those clocks are not going to stop. I've met some pretty special people here. I think you know who you are but if you don't, I'm going to tell you using super secret awesome code names that you will have to decipher for yourself and/or pretend that it's you as an excuse for a hug. (This is the part where all you non-PCVs scroll down to the pictures in order to avoid the total dork-fest about to ensue.)

Some touchy-feely hug shout outs to: Rasamaxa who can make a lot of deviled eggs, Sparkle the friendle who reads from her Kindle, Daddy-o because Daddy's creepy, The Boy who called wolf and actually saw wolf, PB&butt cherades, Merby my early morning lady, Ray of sun and the case of the dancing mushrooms, Solver of evil problems, Yekaterina the Great and her bananas, Curly Sue Master of Compliments...and many more!

I leave you with this final thought about Europe (get it?). I never actually listened to the lyrics of The Final Countdown, but they're just so relevant right now--except the whole going to Venus thing unless your a super poet (if you know what I mean):

We're leaving together
But still it's farewell 
And maybe we'll come back, 
To earth, who can tell? 
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground (leaving ground)
Will things ever be the same again?
It's the final countdown!

(But not really.)

Watch out now! Cynden's got her Colorado ppoint ready to go!

Cluster mates!!!!

That's why it's called...missing the group picture!

Mmmm box filled with pizza