Finally, A Look That Fits Me!

I have three different pairs of glasses to alternate wearing when I want to convey a different kind of teacher. I have sleek glasses for the serious, sophisticatedly sarcastic teacher. I go with the lavender glasses for the caring, soft, motherly look. My giant framed beasts are reserved for the fun creative teacher with just the right amount of quirk. Observe:

Another look I have been sporting is chalk all up on my body. What? It’s a fashion statement. And I like making it. Every day. Some teachers ask me if I still like teaching after some of the more rowdy classes and I always answer yes. Even when my all-black attire has multiple ill-placed chalk prints. I’ve got students pointing to different parts of my body all day long. “Miss Kerry, you have chalk on your—” I usually cut them off and say, “Yes, I know.” “I’m used to it.” “It’s OK.” “I’ll live!” Also, they don’t realize this, but I’m trying for the Yeti look, which is fitting because it’s so cold! 5 degrees Fahrenheit today.

My earlier classes were canceled due to “frostiness.” I have to go in for my fifth form class this afternoon. I think I’ll sport the fun creative teacher look today…mainly because I’m hoping my trusty frames will shield me from the wind which has the potential to freeze my face off. I’m not sure if I should go for the intimidating, Freddy Krueger burn face look, but hey, maybe I could make that work, too…

Pickpockets, Three-Legged Dogs, and the Po Po

Living in a small town in a foreign country has robbed me of a few things: My anonymity, my comfort zone (which was once so kushy!), and my wallet. Yep, got my wallet sliced out of my bag at the bazaar the other day. Ironically, I was shopping for wallets when it happened. (My life is such a storybook!) I felt a slight tug on my bag so I pulled it closer to me. It wasn’t until I went to pay for something at a different store that I realized my wallet was gone and my bag had a huge slash down the side of it. Goodbye passport, bank cards, and money. Hello realization that being so far from home is even harder than I thought.

I am partially glad I had this experience, though. One, I have never been robbed before. Now I know how it feels! Two, I got to see how the Ukrainian police do business. Three, I got to admire the three-legged dog at the police station. Two+ hours “downtown” was very enlightening and if you want to hear more about this experience, it will have to be behind the veil of e-mail or on the phone, not on the blogosphere (do people still call it that?).

My amazing counterpart helped me at the police station and I even got reimbursed for the money that was stolen, which I thought was very interesting. Another positive note: two days later, a man found my wallet—without the money and Ukrainian bank card, of course—but he returned my passport!  So, everything is A-OK. Yes, there is one naughty pickpocket out there greedily slicing up purses, but there are also so many good people willing to do the right thing. So, I consider myself the luckiest unlucky person and still very happy to be here in Ukraine where I am surrounded by so many friendly and caring people!

Evangelistic, On Accident

My counterpart called me up on a Sunday, 2 January, and asked if I would be interested in going to a Melitopol church that was founded by American citizens. Of course I agreed, because I never decline an invitation, especially in this new town of mine. We were picked up by a future student of mine’s mother and driven southeast slightly outside of the city to the middle of nowhere and factories and a giant church complex. There was a pyramid fountain and palm trees encased in glass or plastic to shield them from the cold. This is Ukraine, afterall. We have to keep our palm trees warm...

I knew that going to the church would be weird, but I figured it would be a learning experience. Plus, we weren’t supposed to actually go to a church service. However, by the time I was walked into the service hall with its’ giant flat screen TVs and ushered into a seat, it was too late.  No big deal. New church, new people, new experience. An hour of life is not a lot to give, right?

One hour turned into three and a half hours. Three and a half very interesting, long, and confusing hours. The service hall was huge, with two floors and two giant flat screen TVs. Cameras circulated above all the churchgoers and over the stage which held a full band—two guitar players, a drummer behind a glass case, a bassist, a cellist, violinist, rockgroupish singers, and a chorus of young women all dressed in black with pink belts. The music was very pop rocky and melodious. Some people were jumping up and down in the crowd and holding their hands upwards. Some were whispering under their breath. A lot of people were overcome and crying. One woman moaned and sobbed. All while the camera circled above over their prey. I made sure to look down to the floor every time the camera swooped over my head.

I guess I can say that I am glad I had this experience, but I will never do it again. I respect everyone’s right to practice their religion and in the end, this experience made me think of mine—which is not really a religion at all, but a positive mindset.

Fireworks

Happy New Year, readers! I hope the dragon treats you well and brings you exciting adventures in 2012. I should add that I hope these exciting new adventures do not include the end of the world. The dragon doesn't make promises, though. I can promise you that the new year will bring me fireworks. All. Year. Long. Sparklers out the windows of apartment buildings. M80s exploding in the streets. Tiny sparkles of crackling lights falling from beneath the heavens. The angels will sing all year long because Ukraine loves fireworks!

In the States, the Fourth of July is probably the biggest holiday for fireworks. I remember spreading a blanket on the grass in Otisville awaiting a very strategically planned sensory attack of fire and light. Summer is the season for night lights like that. Even in Brooklyn, from the building tops, you would hear the echo of an occasional firework—which could have also occasionally been a gunshot, but we won't go there (too late). Anyway…

Last night, in the town square in my small city of Melitopol, there were fireworks everywhere to welcome the New Year. There was a main display, but (this is my favorite part) there were also renegades setting up their own smaller displays trying to compete. Fireworks were everywhere, moving and whistling in each and every way. It was also a misty night which gave the sky an eerie glow. Walking home, I could hear explosions in the distance and see only a faint glow, like heat lightning over the mountains on a summer night.

I shouldn't say summer if I have not yet been through Winter in Ukraine, but I can't wait for summer…and to report on the firework status then. And the cherries! Oh, the cherries.

Have a Happy! Here are some Happy New Year Pics:

This Santa looked at me and said, "Oh baby!" and then he looked at Logan and said, "Oh bobby!"

Tree in the mist at the town square!

Smoke and sparklers everywhere!

Morning Bazaar

The sun rises over the bazaar every morning to reveal that it is alive! I’m not sure what time they all set up shop, but at 8 in the morning, the market was bustling. I have made a half victory today. I bought eggs from a woman (1 грн/egg) and asked her where I could find good cottage cheese (творог) and sour cream (сметана) and she brought me to a few babushkas. I tasted their home made products and they were rich, creamy, and slightly sweet. I prefer a little more sour, but I bought from them—14 грн for ½ kilo of творог and $28 грн for a liter of сметана. I think that's slightly expensive. It is my goal to taste all the products at the bazaar, in time, so I can compare tastes and prices.

As of right now, I know no vendor's name. They may have told me their names, but it's hard to understand what everyone says to me. I have been told I speak Russian cleanly and with only a little accent. So, I can speak, but I can't always understand. I did, however, chat it up with all the vendors and though I do not know their real names, I have my own for them: Egg Lady, Herb Lady, Mushroom Lady, Sweet Apple Lady, Chicken Lady. These are just temporary names, I promise. Sweet Apple Lady was one of the first food vendors I met. She had the warmest smile as Logan and I explored the bazaar for the first time. Egg Lady advised me on fresh dairy products. Mushroom lady helped me buy mushrooms because I wasn't sure how much I needed. Chicken Lady sold me chicken, behind a glass counter for about 40 грн/kilo (a kilo is about 2 pounds, by the way). I think this is expensive, but I'm not sure yet. Herb Lady sold me dill for 3 грн a batch (which is about $0.40 USD). I found out that she has a twenty-year-old daughter who wants to learn English. Well, either that or her mother wants her to learn English. She wanted my phone number, but I told her I'd start an English club soon and that her daughter could come and speak English with me. Baby steps.

On my way back home, I saw a pick-up truck with a big container in the back and a line of people waiting for their turn to purchase something...I think. I'm actually not sure what they were waiting for. I think my next goal will be to find out what the Pick-up Man is all about...

Fears, Goals, and Cottage Cheese

Melitopol has welcomed us warmly, literally, with a sign in the university’s entranceway: “Welcome Kerry and Logan!” I’m really excited to be here and I’m loving every second of it. This week, I met with the administration at both my school and Logan’s. They are a great group of people and I think we will do great things with them. Meeting the administration at my school may not sound like a big deal, but my school happens to be one the largest schools in Melitopol: three floors, 12 English teachers, four Vice Principals, and about 1,200 students. (There is also a ping-pong table on the first floor that students can play between their breaks. There is a long 10-20 minute break between classes here in Ukraine. Another interesting side note is that there is no lunch period for students. Because of the long breaks, students can go to the cafeteria and grab something quick to eat between classes.)

When my counterpart, the very wonderful Olga, said I should give a short speech (in Russian) at the teacher’s meeting, I assumed it would be just the English teachers in a small room. Lo and behold, I had to speak in front of almost all the teachers about myself and my work experience. This went very well and I’m glad I got to use some Russian. This meeting was proceeded by another one—entirely in Russian—about my work load and teaching schedule. So, my day was filled with Russian and I am still alive!

I’d like to talk about fears, goals, and first impressions now that I am at my site.

Fears

Fear one: upsetting the Babushka’s at the bazaar if I like one Babuska’s cottage cheese over another’s. I’m not too keen on the bazaar etiquette here, but I’ve been told it’s good to stick with one seller because they will get to know you and they will take care of you. However, it’s hard for me to say no.

My biggest fear is not learning Russian. I have to study and practice now that I don’t have 4-5 hours of classes a day, but everyone’s so nice here, and they all know that it’s important for me to learn Russian, so I hope they will test me over the next two years.

I’m not afraid to teach, but it will definitely be a challenge to get some of the adolescents really interested in English. I think the 9^th graders will be my biggest challenge. They have a lot of energy, but I think they don’t know what to do with it and maybe some of them don’t see the benefit in learning English. It’s my goal over the next two years to make it fun for them and to convince them that it’s important. Wish me luck.

Goals

I am setting weekly goals for myself to help me ease into life in Melitopol. Of course, it is my professional goal to be a good teacher and to do the most I can here. But, it is my personal goal to find my favorite cottage cheese vendor on my own. I need small goals and small victories.

Reading over this post, I see that my fears have transformed into goals. That’s because I’m an optimist?

Tomorrow, I will write about my first impressions on buying said cheese. My first impressions of Melitopol are very positive. It’s a small city with a lot of culture and motivated people who are as happy as I am about taking part in a positive cultural exchange.

Switching to Russian Mode

Last night was the night—I decided to change the language settings on my phone. Instead of “wake up, the time is now 7 o clock”, I get “время просипатся! Время восим.”

So, yea, it’s harder to use my phone now. I couldn’t help but put some more challenges on my plate. I’m also pretty sure I agreed to sing for someone on the 11^th of December, but I’m not sure.  The verbs for to drink and to sing are mighty familiar: пить and петь. Although, maybe these two glorious verbs will be combined to form a more perfect union and a night of drunken sing-a-longs? Someone did tell me that after three strong drinks, everyone sings...

On yet another note, I have picked up the habit of eliminating articles when I speak English. Let’s go to store. I have idea. Mean man bad! Ah, language. I am amazed, though, at the Russian that’s floating around in my head. It may not all connect the way I want it to, but it will, eventually, and I’ll be there saying “Ah ha! That’s what that was about!” and I’ll thank my Russian language teachers for their patience.

I am feeling extra reflective now. I’m remembering when Logan and I said goodbye to family and friends for what seemed like forever, when I told my boss I was leaving for the Peace Corps, when I took a very American summer trip with my best friends, when I was bussed to the Soviet-style hotel in Ukraine and given my first Ukrainian meal, when I met my host family and was awkwardly silent because I didn’t know they all spoke English and could understand me, when I realized that my Ukrainian mom was an amazing cook, when my host brother Vanya started taking my hand and bringing me to his toy box, when Nastya celebrated her 14^th birthday…when my Peace Corps cluster started fusing together…So many things have happened in such a small amount of time.

What I’m trying to say is that we’ve been through a lot so far. More importantly, next week, we actually get to find out where we’ll be for the next two years! I can’t even think about how two years will feel. My concept of time is thrown off because of how busy we are and how many things get thrown into our faces. If we find out next week, that means that in a little over two weeks, I will have to make the switch to full Russian mode. я готова?