Beautiful day, a few degrees above zero, sun, melting snow, fake spring. Teachers meetings have started, I can't really understand what they are about. Basically each department has to present on it's activities in the last year. And then there's issues like fire safety, swimming and diving accidents, science lab safety, stuff like that. Last night was yet another holiday party amazing table food spread singing toasting marathon. How can celebrations be so tiring? I am trying to figure out my schedule and plan overall topics and units. Just got invited to another holiday meal...
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Christmas meals
First dinner was Christmas Eve, Jan. 6th. Before dinner there were a variety of traditions to be adhered to. First was the saying of a long set of prayers, with many crossings. Then host father tried the traditional poppy seed/kasha dish (sweet and filling) and we followed example. Each of us (Host dad, mom, brother, grandma, 2 cousins) had beside our plate some garlic, some apple and a walnut. I'm not sure I got this right, but the garlic is good luck, the apple is happiness, and the walnut is strength. There was special mushroom vareniki in the borsch, which I was instructed to eat delicately, because there were various items hidden inside. I was lucky enough to bite down on a coin, which obviously means I will be rich. Other people found a pepper corn (short, hard, but spicy life), a sweet one (sweet life), and a trinket (you will find treasures). There was a ridiculous amount of food, and since I joined the family in fasting for the day, I was pretty hungry for dinner, which meant I ate too much, and promptly fell asleep, after the 3 rd round of dessert.
Christmas day I slept through the 7am church service, unfortunately. I'll go next year. Then a fancy brunch/lunch with just as much food. I asked why there was always one extra place set, and discovered it is for those who are no longer with us. Last night also had an extra place set. Then more cleanup, and more preparation, because…
Christmas day fancy dinner. Good friends came over, the family that we visited for new years, and another 4 hour dinner ensued. My favorite part was when the carolers came, mostly other teachers from school, my family sang with them (I know most of the melodies now, but no words yet) and gave all 10 singers shots of horilka (vodka?), martinis, bread, meat and sweets. There was also singing around the table before and after the carolers came, and my violin came out for a short appearance. Since this family has girls, I learned all about some traditions my family hadn't had to worry about. If you put a touch of honey on a girls cheek, it's said to attract men (honey is sweet…), and if you go outside and bang two spoons together and a dog barks, you have a man coming soon (what if a dog doesn't bark?). I personally think the honey method would be more successful, but I know very little about being a Ukrainian girl, or the best ways to attract Ukrainian men. Now very full, very content, and very tired.
Luckily tomorrow only has one fancy dinner, and it's at another house, so I am forbidden to help set up or clean up. Man's only responsibility when visiting another house is to keep the women's glasses full of whatever their drinking. Easy enough.
Part of my language training is watching the news, a lot more often then I did during training. I am sending peaceful thoughts to Kenya, Lebanon, Iraq, Turkey, Pakistan, Georgia, Bosnia, Afghanistan, and Darfur. Those were the places on the news tonight. Not that thoughts have any effect. But thoughts can lead to words which can lead to action, and peaceful actions are needed in many places. My current events knowledge is incredibly poor, and I am realizing with limited internet I will have to make a much stronger effort to become and stay educated.
Cars
Went to L'viv with host family today, them in search of lower food prices, me in search of an atm without surcharges. No success. Andre drove my family's 1991 Lada. They bought it new, just as the currency was being devalued. Despite the cardboard in the grill, the heater would not put out anything. You would think a soviet car would have a working heater given the lattitude at which it was designed. Maybe the heater core needs to be bled, or maybe the thermostat has been taken out. The wind coming in through the door handle did not help my circulation problems. It always amazes me when I compare my 1991 Accord (I miss driving!) to their 1991 Lada. I don't know where to start. The Honda was quite, fast, efficient, warm, a/c, cruise control, fuel injection, power everything, an amazing machine. The Lada tops out around 70mph, carbreated, have to play with the choke whenever throttle position changes (or maybe it's a mixture control?), like I said earlier, it feels like a 1970's Volkswagen.
I want to bring Liam and my dad a few cars that they have over here. Most notable are the deisels of every variety. Audi, Volkswagen (awesome variety of vans), Mercedes (again, hook me up with a mercedes deisel mini-van), BMW, Opel, Skoda, and a bunch of other companies I can't remember because I don't know the language well enough for their commercials to be effective. There are some models of known companies that I'm convinced would do wonderful in the US, but then maybe my dad and Liam have influenced my views on what's cool. Then there are trucks which run on both benzene and propane, simply flipping a switch based on which is cheaper at the time. I'll try to describe the smell of benzene exhaust later.
Andre just brought me a plate of steaming hot toast with potato ladka and garlic mayonnaise on top. They're really trying hard to fatten me up a bit. Everything I eat has oil or grease of some sort. I will not make a scene or lecture them on the food pyramid because I only have 19 more days until I get my own apartment, where I may do a few days on just fruit and vegetables, need to clear my arteries. And then a few days after that I'll probably miss somebody cooking for me, even if it is full of lard, grease, butter, sour cream, mayonnaise, sunflower oil, or canola oil. Well off to my violin. One of my four full body warmth activities. Sleeping, running, soccer and violin.
I'm reaching the point where Ukrainian is getting pretty frustrating, trying to build vocabulary beyond what I want and action verbs into ideas and concepts is difficult because I can't repeat the words as much as I need to remember them. Also trying to speak grammatically correctly is difficult, because even if I correct myself, then I've said it once wrong, and once correctly, and have exactly a 50/50 chance of saying it correctly the next time. I can't even speak correctly in English. I've also realized that a highly developed language means one that does not easily fit within grammatical structures and rules. In other words, exceptions, just like English. For every rule, there are a handful of exceptions which come and bite just as my confidence starts to go up.
coldish
Nothing extreme, but I am unable to find true warmth. Actually, my bed is pretty warm, but it's that camping type warmth, where my ears and nose are always a bit cool, and I'm asleep most of the time, so I mostly miss out on my warmest hours. It's not that my house and the buildings I go into are not heated, it's just that they are heated economically. In the house I will live in for another 3 weeks for example, the only warm rooms are the living room and the kitchen. The whole open part of the house (bottom hallway, stairway, and upper hallway) is about 50F . My room, the living room and the kitchen are 60F. I'm not sure about the other bedrooms. Then I realize that my family is really used to these temperatures, because when we visited a friend's apartment, which was normal room temperature 67F, my host mom and dad were sweating. My host mom thinks it's because I'm so skinny, but host dad is also just as skinny. He thinks it's because I don't often drink tea. I think I ruined a lot of small blood vessels in my skiing days, before I knew the wisdom of thin socks, during the days when I would ski non-stop, eating lunch on the chairlift, not willing to miss a single second of downhill speed. I remember many days with numb toes and fingers, and then painful thaws on the drive down the mountain, itching, burning, but it was worth it at the time. Now I am wishing I had always worn mittens instead of gloves, taken a break if my feet were cold, and realized the importance of proper circulation.
Outside it's been -10C, not extreme, although the wind finds the zipper on my coat, and I regret wearing my cheep polyester hat rather than my polar tech one on the walk back from Ukrainian tutoring. This walk includes a suspended cable pedestrian bridge which actually sways in the wind. I wonder if it's ever inspected as a contemplate whether it would be better to land on solid ice, or to break through into the water so that the impact would be softer. How do you climb out of a hole in the ice? Could my two keys be used like an ice pick so I would have some hand hold while I kick with my feet? How many attempts would I have? 30 seconds, 40? Nathaniel, I need to borrow that survival manual you have. I just keep telling myself that a cold winter will make hot, muggy days of summer more bearable. The joys of a continental climate. It's also helpful to think of Nathaniel, up in Alaska. I love sunshine.
As soon as I started walking around downtown, my feet were roasting, sweating even, but back in the car, they were freezing, the drying sweat not helping. The highlight of this L'viv trip was seeing the big Christmas tree, and all the beautiful buildings in the center in glorious clear winter sunshine. For all my whining about the cold, I definitely prefer cold clear days to semi-tepid cloudy ones. The universities were heroic, the firefighting academy is an old castle, the 21 st century signs touting mobile phones and Italian clothing only take up the ground floor along the narrow curvy streets. Second floor and up (first, if you count European style, ground, 1, 2…)I saw beautiful balconies, gargoyles, and a bunch of other cool things I would be able to describe if I knew anything about architecture.
Jan. 3rd
The fourth party was at some friends' apartment. We came with alcohol and chocolate, the standard requirement when making any sort of visit, and were promptly seated at another table covered with food and drink. Dad, mom and two daughters sat across from my host dad mom and brother. It was a joke filled evening, everything getting funnier or more serious as the horilka shots continued. Natalia is 18 and already in her third year of University. She's a year ahead and Ukrainian high school only has 11 grades. She is studying economics but unfortunately my vocabulary was too limited to figure out what slant she is getting on globalization, capitalism, market economies or federalism. And then I learned that her father, sitting across from me worked for the KGB for 22 years, and knew a lot about America , and worked in Peru for a number of years, so also knew some Spanish. All of my Latin America classes crept into my head and the less than perfect human rights record of both the USA and USSR as we made power plays to exploit strategic alliances and resources while disregarding all moral responsibility in order to gain the upper hand. The cold war was covered in warm blood in Chile, Peru , Argentina, Dominican Republic , Cuba and many others. I really want to talk with him more after some more language experience, and maybe when he's not 6 shots deep. Some of the evening did feel a bit like an interrogation, but that was probably my imagination. He is still a Russian national, and had a lot of trouble speaking pure Ukrainian for me. Then he showed me his expansive stamp collection, a bunch of old rubles, 1909-1950, and explained how before the various devaluations, 5 rubles could buy a few cows, but now they are only worth… He also had collections of Soviet badges and military medals, even giving me a running man pin he had won after winning the 1000m run in KGB training in 3:04 with combat boots, full pack and rifle. Now he works for the border patrol, and that's how he knows my host dad, who is the veterinarian for the german shepards dogs that also work the border. There is a system of guard towers, but no fence, and they explained that part of the requirements for entering the EU include being able to demonstrate orderly emigration/immigration controls and regulations. They said that from Ukraine is currently the easiest way for illegals to get into the EU. Here are some other interesting facts that arose during the evening. Only 20% of Natalia's classmates know how to drive, and even fewer older women, compared with 99% of men. Fondue has made it to Ukraine, chocolate so good. L'viv University's dormitories have segregated male or female halls.
And the celebrations continue. Last night I wend downtown with Andre, met up with his high school friends, and had a relaxing evening playing Durak (Fool) card game. Incredibly, I haven't been the fool yet. I still don't really understand what's going on, or what the strategy is, but I seem to be doing ok. V. Mosty has a center plaza with a Christmas tree and reminds me a lot of the Santa Fe plaza. There is also a good sized park a few blocks away which I am predicting will be nice when the grass comes back.
These are only the New Years celebrations. Christmas is yet to come. Teachers and administrators are working at school, but there is nothing that I can help with yet. I was initially semi-frustrated with no work to do, but now I've really settled down and have started to enjoy the holidays. I can't even remember how to teach at this point. This morning's run was the coldest yet, made my eyes water, and then the tears froze on my eyelashes, but it was nice sunshine sparkling on the snow which I'm convinced now will never melt. I don't remember the last day above freezing, and the snow has started squeaking loudly when walked or run on. Tights under my pants have become so normal that when I go around the house in just sweatpants, I feel rather naked. The wind here blows from the east fairly often, only somewhat interesting except that there is a major coal power plant 18Km to the east, and I doubt it has scrubbers of any sort. Today has a noticeable brown haze. It's so flat here, I can't quite figure out how the river decided which way to flow. The Ukrainian history teacher confirmed that the Synagogue was burned with close to 1000 Jews inside of it. I also read in PC literature that only 3% of the pre-war Ukrainian Jew population remained after WWII.
New Year Parties
My first new years party was at the new pizzeria that just opened downtown. About thirty teachers were there and I sat at the end of one table with Boris and Sergey. Boris is the school IT guy, runs all 23 computers and helps teachers with anything computer or printer related. He's 23 and went to a technical school rather than university. Sergey is one of the PE teachers, his dad told him it was a good job to stay healthy. He's 25 and they are the only other young male teachers out of the 80 some teachers at this school. They both have a bit more English than I have Ukrainian at this point. It was the typical party spread, the table absolutely covered with food and drink, and a constant flow as the evening progressed. By the end of the evening our end of the table was affectionately called the boys, and any uneaten food was passed down to us and promptly consumed. The party lasted 4-5 hours, during which time I consumed 2 salads, 2 sandwiches, 25 pidgin wings, 2 pineapple ham pizzas (12 inch), two milkshakes an ice cream sundae and a few liters of juice and water. Now I did forget lunch earlier in the day, and Boris and Sergey purposefully didn't eat earlier, in order to capitalize on the feast. We definitely ate our way through the 52 griven price tag, and generally had a merry time. I was prompted to give a toast at one point, and managed in broken Ukrainian to say something about wanting to become colleagues and friends, wishing everyone relaxing holidays, and a productive spring semester. At least that's what I think I said.
My second New Years party was with my host parents. I was quietly reading Julia Alverez "In the time of Butterflies" having resigned myself to a quiet new years on the couch since it was obvious that Andre's party at the pizzeria was another by invite only affair, and I didn't really feel like spending another 70 grivna, and it was cold to walk the 15 min into town. So it was quite a surprise when furniture was rearranged, salad made, fruit cut up, meat, cheese, bread, cookies, candy and champagne were lit by candle light and I promptly became the third wheel in a very romantic new years observation. We watched Putin give his speech, and the fireworks in Moscow, then Ukrainian president Ushenko and the fireworks in Kyiv, then the president of Poland and the fireworks in Warsaw . It was quite fancy, host mom even getting a bit dressed up, and our living room window giving a perfect view of the modest fireworks of Velyki Mosty. The presidential speeches were interesting, probably more so if I could understand more than a few words. The national anthems of these three counties were serious, not at all like the American triumphant content melody which leaves you in at least the same mood you started, if not a bit more optimistic. The Slavic anthems sounded more like the end of something, a sad movie, a minor symphony, a Shakespeare play where most characters die. I'm not an expert on how anthems are picked, and whether they actually reflect national character, but it certainly would make an interesting music/sociology/ethnography/psychology research paper.
The third new years party was on the banks of the Rata river, about 3 kilometers downstream from my town. Again with host parents, Andre still sleeping from the night before. Late afternoon, northeast wind, light snow, a crackling fire with a kettle of fish soup and a pan of goat meat sizzling on the coals. Apparently a 25 year old tradition of these three couples, who normally met at this spot every Sunday during the summer, and on new years day every year. I was promptly served a bowl of spicy fish soup, with a whole fish in it. I guess if the fish is under 6 inches, no gutting is required. I was not sure how to eat a whole fish, nor sure I was quite hungry enough to attempt it with only a spoon and my teeth. I observed the others, and couldn't figure out how, but they all ended up with only the head, spine and tail, the rest of the meat miraculously gone. How hard could it be? I started eating the fish, got about half way through the meat when the guts broke open. I can't say it was incredibly appetizing watching fish poop, algae and small pebbles infiltrate the rest of my soup. Why do fish eat pebbles? I then started contemplating where these fish were caught, remembering that I was downstream of the sewage treatment plant, and now knowing exactly what 1970's soviet sewage treatment technology was, I decided to wonder behind the cars (one of which was a 1983 Volkswagen golf) and slyly stomp my fish into the snow. I ate the rest of the soup, remembering Simran's algae smoothies, and avoiding the pebbles, which was easy since they sink. It was really fun to play with the fire, and made me miss the yearly fire play at the Santa Fe meeting house with the Faralitos.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Happy New Year
The snow has deepened, but only by another inch. Soccer continues on the stadium (tundra?). The Chelsea vs. Aston Villa game was sweet, the soccer channels are going to be missed in my apartment. There have been lots of parties, only some of which I have attended. I decided the main reason I don't drink is that I don't want to. Why is that so hard for people to understand?
Oddly busy considering no work, today cutting three activities short to accommodate each other. First soccer scrimmage, then internet time, now I got to run to Ukrainian tutoring.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
