Time is slipping away from me over here. I began this journey of knowledge, self-enlightenment, humanitarianism—however I decide to call it—more than sixteen weeks ago, but the past four months in Ukraine have disappeared faster than the last weeks of childhood summers. I mean the weeks here seem just an interlude between weekends—and the weekends…well, they’re only two days anyway. Sixteen weeks ago I emerged from a German giant of an aircraft into the warm Indian Summer of Kyiv, Ukraine jetlagged, optimistic and ready to really live. And now…well, I’m not jetlagged anymore.
What makes the time pass so fast here I can’t be sure. I spent the first twelve weeks in “Super Intense and Awfully Exhausting” Peace Corps Training, which involved four hours of Ukrainian Language class a day, 6 days a week…. almost 280 hours total. I’ve never used my brain in quite the same way, and though I’m nowhere near fluent, I can speak about a great many things in Ukrainian and understand almost everything people say to me—unless they’re speaking Russian or a Ukrainian/Russian mixture or other, numerous mixtures of Eastern European languages and dialects. Well, perhaps I can’t understand most people. My survival here, though, depends on my knowledge of this language and so I studied diligently for twelve weeks and was so completely and utterly wrapped up in learning to communicate with Ukrainian people that days turned into weeks, weeks—months, and quite suddenly, it seemed, I had completed my language training and was separated from my safe Peace Corps protection and set loose to speak to the people.
I lived those first twelve weeks in Borova, a small village an hour southwest of Kyiv, about 8,000 people and as old, run down and provincial as you can get. Most, or maybe all, of those people had never seen an American before—not outside their favorite crappy “horrible depiction of American life” television shows, anyway. I completed my Peace Corps Training Teaching Practicum in Borova School, No. 2. It was, by far, the worst work experience I’ve ever had. The children at this school understood nearly nothing I said to them in English, and though that seems plausible in a provincial Ukrainian town, please understand that English is a required course in Ukrainian Schools. Like history or Math in American schools, students are required to study English from 1st grade through graduation, and yet students in my 9th grade class knew nothing—and I mean nothing. Not surprisingly, my Ukrainian counterpart at that school, or “resource teacher” in Peace Corps lingo, knew about as much English as I know Ukrainian.
Then how can she be a teacher, one might ask. Ukrainian people center their lives on family—they surround themselves with family. Of course Ukrainians need jobs to have money to have a family, and they need skills to get these jobs, and her skill—as unrefined as it may be—is to teach English. Also, this particular school is without proper government funding and I expect the school would have preferred a more qualified teacher, but you take what you can get at the salary they are paying her. She worked at two other schools and taught private lessons at home just to make about $40 a month—not to mention raising her son. Consequently, she had a horribly depressing disposition, which I can’t blame her a bit for having. Unfortunately, her shabby English is obvious, and the minimal respect she received from her students seemed to disappear the moment I arrived and they saw her inability to communicate with me. Unfortunately, this lack of respect soon transferred onto me—though I do admit if I were being taught Spanish or French or any language by a teacher who spoke no English, my attention and patience with that teacher would quickly disappear. After just two weeks, students began walking out of my classes, or opting to talk and play cards or shout to me all the English they knew—yes, no, f*** you (of course they didn’t understand the meaning of that last one)—and of course they didn’t understand when I told them to stop and pay attention, and I couldn’t tell them in Ukrainian; I don’t know how.
So that was training, an extremely intense and trying twelve weeks that I am thrilled to have experienced, but am overjoyed to be done with. I did, however, live with a wonderful host family who were deeply religious and kind and taught me to live and survive in this new culture. And the seven young children I lived with helped me immensely to learn this new language. As I said about my time in Australia, and at Syracuse—about everywhere I’ve ever been perhaps—it’s not where you are but the people you’re with that make great moments in life, and I sincerely believe that about my time with my host family in Borova.
Ukrainians are the most hospitable people I think you can find in the world. In every Ukrainian house I’ve been in, I’ve been offered a full course meal and tea and coffee and vodka. I swear these are things Ukrainian people have ready at all times in case guests arrive—and I can say from living with two host families that guests arrive often. Ukraine is an ancient country and the traditions are many, and taken very seriously. If you receive guests in Ukraine you must offer them vodka or cognac or another alcohol to warm the soul—and your guests are obliged to accept it. And of course all the stereotypes we have about Russians and this part of the world drinking constantly are nearly true. I don’t think it’s about drinking and getting drunk, though, but rather about toasting to friendship and love and cultivating good relations between people. Ukrainians are very serious about this.
Ukrainians are also quite serious about religion, and follow the Julian religious calendar, which places Christmas on January 7th, after the New Years. Groups of children and families walk from house to house Christmas Caroling and seem to continue for nearly four days after Christmas. It’s quite wonderful really. Ukrainians also celebrate a holiday aptly Old New Years, on January 14th, which seems to me just an excuse to extend the Christmas season into the middle of January. But indeed, Ukrainians celebrate New Years twice.
And now on to the food. I’ve never eaten such good food, and so much of it, in my entire life. I’ve eaten more here in four months than I did in four years at Syracuse. You see, Ukraine suffered 3 famines in the 20th century—not to mention being torn apart by the Nazis in WWII—and so much of life here is uncertain. Ukrainians live for the day their in, for now—and good food and drink is something Ukrainians indulge in while they can. Nearly everything is homemade here. The milk is straight from the cow, the chickens are straight from the backyard, all vegetables and fruits are grown in the garden and canned in the summer for winter, all the bread is fresh and delicious, and all the wine—and even some of the vodka—is homemade. These people are so close to the earth I think it’s quite wonderful.
And now, my Mission. Why am I here, in Mukachevo, in Ukraine? I often ask myself. Here in Mukachevo people have nice houses and good food and seem to be very happy with the way things are. My students are extremely competent in written English and my colleagues in the English department here love their jobs. So, why do they need me? I ask myself next. The Ukrainian economy is in shambles right now—not surprising considering Ukraine seceded from the Soviet Union less than fifteen years ago and capitalism is still a new idea here. If Ukrainian businesses want to compete with the world, and especially if Ukraine wants to join the European Union, Ukrainians will need to know English. And not English from Soviet era textbooks and Eminem songs, but fluent conversational English.
Also, I’m giving a majority of the people I meet here their first experience with a foreigner, and I think I’m reshaping the way they think about the world and particularly the United States in a more positive way. Most Ukrainians here in Mukachevo, and I think nearly all Ukrainians in Borova and the many small villages around Ukraine, have never and will never have the opportunity to learn about anything outside of this city and those villages. It’s nearly impossible to get a visa for travel to the United States and abroad, and most people can’t afford it anyway. In fact, most people can’t afford any travel, and thus their entire sphere of knowledge merely encompasses the city or village where they live and what they can see on television. Ukrainians that know English, though, can become translators and participate in exchange programs with universities in Great Britain and the United States, and gain opportunities to leave Ukraine and see and experience the world, and then return and help others that live here to broaden their own knowledge of the world. Also, I think it gives many Ukrainians a certain self-confidence to think that I would want to leave the United States and come learn about their culture and their lives and live here for 2 years.
So that’s my story thus far. I’ve been here four months and have learned so much about this country and it’s people—and everyday I learn a little more about our own culture as my Ukrainian friends see it. I’ve learned to value more deeply the connections I have with family and friends as I am forced to go without them and make new ones here. I now appreciate in a meaningful way the difficulties of communicating solely in a second language and have a newfound respect for Americans, and all peoples, who do it everyday. And while time is slipping away here, I’m slowly but certainly fulfilling my Main Mission—to find my own perfect way to live.
For the few who have asked, and the many that have thought…..why? Why the Peace Corps?
Well here you are, as written for the Peace Corps in July 2003.
Expectations:
I expect to learn. To learn to live productively and efficiently and to enjoy life without the excess that surrounds mine now. I expect to understand. To understand what struggle and sacrifice and survival truly mean, and with that understanding, to better appreciate life with, or without, those three. I also hope to escape the materialism and surplus and disregard for human life and the earth that I see everyday all around me. I do know that I shall experience all of these things during my time in the Ukraine and Eastern Europe, but I expect to live comfortably and happily without them and to learn to teach others wherever I live to do the same.
I expect to learn much about the Ukrainian culture so that I can compare it with my own and thus determine how best to live. Likewise, I expect to give all my knowledge and understanding of life to whomever wants it so that they may do likewise. Through this relationship of common knowledge and understanding, I expect to build friendships that are strong and enduring. I do realize that some of the residents in the town, village or city where I will serve as a volunteer may not want to learn, nor trust, what I have to teach them. Thus, I will offer everything I have humbly and will never force my morals, values or ideas on anyone. I expect my neighbors, friends, students and teachers to do the same.
Strategies for Adapting to a New Culture:
I have never experienced a culture that is not industrialized, nor Americanized and I am excited to do so. And though I am often shy and introverted when made to play the part of the outsider, I realize that my ability to make friends and gain trust from those I interact with quickly will positively influence my ability to adapt to a new culture. Overcoming loneliness and the longing for familiar faces will be my biggest challenge—I have always adapted quickly and with ease to new settings and living arrangements and I am quite confident that Ukraine will feel like home to me within weeks of my arrival (this, of course, is an admittedly naïve statement). Thus, I shall make it a point from the moment I arrive in Ukraine to meet as many people as possible and to make those I do meet comfortable with me. I realize that I will be stereotyped by my nationality, and thus I will make an effort with each person I meet to act truly sincere so that I will be judged by my character and personality, not by my ethnicity.
I will try all things that are new to me and suppress any fears I have for the unknown. I am eager to learn how Ukrainians live day-to-day, and like my knowledge and understanding of life, I will offer how I have lived my life in hopes that I, and all whom I meet, can find our own perfect way to live.
Most of what I have already written describes my personal goals for my Peace Corps service—building friendships based on a common understanding of life and giving all that I have to offer so that someone might make their own life better. Professionally, I hope to define more clearly what I am meant to do with my life. I want to teach people how to live better; teach them that the way things are and the way things have to be are not one and the same. I want to show people that knowledge is the greatest weapon against misery while ignorance is the greatest instigator of it. I want to learn to be happy with very little and to appreciate human relationships and the earth instead of materials and money—and I want to teach this to others. How I want to do this, and where, I do not know yet, thus my volunteer service in the Ukraine shall be a sort of stepping stone to understanding more fully who I am, and how and who I am meant to help.
It is now official—I am Ukrainian Bound Sept. 30, 2003, due to return shortly before Christmas, 2005. I will be teaching English to Secondary School students, though my whereabouts within Ukraine are, as yet, unkown.
I am still clueless as to what to expect from my volunteer service…but at least I know where I’m going now. I hear the Ukrainian woman are beautiful and the vodka flows like water….the perfect distractions if I do say so myself.
Good news on this end…my third reference finally arrived at Peace Corps regionals headquarters in NYC. It seems my intended reference could not properly work a fax machine…or send an e-mail….or use the postal service correctly. But I had an old employer here on Cape Cod write one quick and it has arrived in NYC….also, I have passed the dental, medical and eye exams so I am now anxiously awaiting my assignment in Eastern Europe.
I will keep you all posted as to where I’ll call home for the next few years….