tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47458299446910543752024-02-06T19:54:44.579-08:00Ben Robbins' ReflectionsHope you enjoy reading my thoughts and updates about my life as I know it. Feel free to question and comment. I look forward to keeping in touch and keeping you informed!Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-72834264242590763882011-08-02T22:57:00.000-07:002011-08-02T23:02:32.055-07:00Back Home<div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.9011808375362307" style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Well, I’ve been home now a total of 6 weeks. That’s the longest I’ve been away from my site since I first got there, and it’s starting to finally sink in that I’m not going back. I mean, I knew I wasn’t going back. I was incredibly excited about going home, seeing friends and family, living the good life again. And that was all a great distraction while it still felt like just a visit. But it’s real. I’m not going back, and it’s hard to admit.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Leaving Ukraine was impossibly hard, emotionally and physically. There was all the stuff I had to do administratively to finish my Peace Corps service, involving multiple trips to Kiev; an awesome 16 hour roundtrip goodbye visit to a friend who’s boldly extending her service for another year who lives in the middle of nowhere; a disastrous bike ride with my sitemate over 115 miles to the Azov Sea to celebrate a friend’s birthday; the first surprise party anybody has ever thrown me with incredibly dear friends, Ukrainian and American alike; getting a new site ready for their first volunteer and their first Peace Corps summer camp (they don’t know what’s about to hit ‘em); and moving out. Ohhhh, moving out of my little Soviet apartment. It never fails. Every time I move it’s like I’ve dug a nest out of quicksand. Something about every living situation just refuses to let me go without a fight. Thankfully I had Katelyn with me to pull me through it and make it as fun as it could be. And it was all so sad. </span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Ukraine really became home. The people I came to know became family. The lifestyle, as frustrating and difficult as it was, became habit. The work finally, finally, became rewarding and lucrative. Though I knew it was time and I needed to go home, I didn’t choose to go home. Peace Corps chose by signing me up for a 27 month contract and not a day more. The goodbyes in Ukraine were so much more difficult than in America. My friends and I would joke that it was like I was dying. None of them were leaving. They each still have at least 6 more months of what I love left. By leaving Ukraine I left their world. And it really felt like I was dying. I guess I always knew I was coming back to America; Ukraine is not so certain.</span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Since I’ve been home it’s been a whirlwind of seeing friends and family, eating all the foods I’ve missed, and doing all the things I couldn’t while I was in Ukraine. I’ve slowly adjusted to being back in America, but the transition has been harder than I expected. In order to really survive in Ukraine I had to sell myself out to the culture and lifestyle. </span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I never realized how different that was from my life in America and how much I changed. The changes weren’t huge but very subtle, and continue to catch me off guard. For example, I never thought I would look at my American lifestyle as being luxurious. And in comparison to others in America, it’s very standard, not poor of course, but hardly luxurious. But the fact that my family has a dishwasher that they regularly use puts them somewhere near the crème de la crème of Ukrainian society. Living in Ukraine for 2 years got me used to not having a dishwasher. The complete absence of a dishwasher leveled the playing field for other things to rise to the top as luxurious. So at home, the things I took for granted before seem over the top now. </span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">There’ve been other things about being home that have surprised me in similar ways, but slowly I’m getting more used to being American again. I’m getting comfortable driving again and my head has finally stopped jerking around when I hear someone speaking English in the background. </span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I can’t get too used to it though. In a few weeks I will head off again, this time to Italy. I’ve been accepted to Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies. Thanks to my experience in Peace Corps I was able to get into my dream program for International Relations. They admitted me to their Bologna program so I will spend my first year in Bologna and my second in D.C. After that we’ll see where I end up. I’d like to work for an international development agency and manage projects and funds, particularly in Eurasia and Russia. So the mission continues. Never thought it’d take me this far.</span></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-42249566695141170662011-05-11T12:38:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:27:36.499-07:00Description of Service (aka what i did for 2 years)<div>Hey all, thought y'all might be interested in this. Below is the official description of my Peace Corps service on file at headquarters. This is the only official written documentation that tells my story. Happy reading!</div><div style="font-weight: bold; "><b><br /></b></div><b>Description of Peace Corps Service</b><div><br />Benjamin Robbins<br />Ukraine<br />(April 2009 – June 2011)</div><div><br />After a competitive application process emphasizing professional skills, motivation, adaptability, cross-cultural understanding and medical fitness, Peace Corps invited Mr. Benjamin Robbins to serve as a Youth Development Volunteer in Ukraine.<br /><br /><b>Pre-service training</b><br />On April 1st, 2009, Mr. Robbins joined the 36th group of Peace Corps Volunteers to serve in Ukraine. He entered an intensive 11-week community-based training program. The training program included 200 hours of Russian language training, 80 hours of technical training on youth policy and youth development in Ukraine, including eight weeks of classroom teaching and summer youth camp practice, 60 hours of cross-cultural studies (history, economy, cultural norms). To reinforce language and cross-cultural learning, Mr. Robbins lived with a Ukrainian family in Baryshivka in Kyiv Region throughout training.<br /><br />In preparation for his Peace Corps service, Mr. Robbins, while a trainee, taught at Baryshivka School No. 2. While at Baryshivka School No. 2, Mr. Robbins taught Healthy Lifestyles and organized extracurricular activities such as an English club, summer day camp, and a sports day.<br /><br /><b>Assignment</b><br />The U.S. Embassy Chargé d’Affaires, a. i., James D. Pettit swore in Mr. Robbins as a Peace Corps Volunteer on June 18th, 2009 in Kyiv, Ukraine.<br />Mr. Robbins was assigned to Novodmitrovka, Donetska oblast, a village of 300 Ukrainian and Russian speakers in southeastern Ukraine. He worked as a teacher of the focus areas of the Youth Development project at Novodmitrovka Educational Complex, which has a student body of 400 students in grades 1-11 and 30 teachers. As Mr. Robbins arrived at site before the school year began, Mr. Robbins attended a summer camp in Svyatagorsk, Donetska Oblast, of 300 area students ages 4 – 17. There he taught sports and worked as a counselor in the upbringing and supervision of the campers. He also organized and participated in evening activities through which he showed American traditions and culture.<br /><br />Beginning on September 1, 2009 at Novodmitrovka Educational Complex (NEC), under the supervision of the Ministry of Youth Family and Sports, Mr. Robbins began several projects to address areas of students’ education and upbringing that were lacking or unavailable in coordination with the Assistant Director of Extracurricular Activities, Nadezhda Kodenkova. His primary weekly tasks were a 1 hour English club, 3 hours of sports clubs, 3 hours of weight lifting clubs, 17 hours of team English teaching, and playing games with younger students during class breaks. The English club provided the opportunity for students whose lessons ended early to receive extra practice with basic English from a native English speaker. During sports clubs, Mr. Robbins taught students American sports as a way to learn about American culture, provide fun and interesting ways for students to be active, and develop coordination skills through sports students had yet to experience. The weight lifting club provided an opportunity to utilize the rarely used weight room in the basement of the school, allowed older students to exercise, and provided opportunities for Mr. Robbins to act as a role model for older students. Through team teaching during English lessons, he was able to develop activities for youth development topics covered in the curriculum such as healthy lifestyles, country studies, leadership, professions, etc. He was able to incorporate multimedia and communicative methods into these lessons which were adopted by the English teachers.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins also planned and participated in several multicultural exchanges. Through his mother’s 3rd grade class in America he was able to establish multiple correspondence exchanges with students from NEC. He was able to exchange valentines between his mother’s class and the students of NEC by mail. After his mother’s visit to Ukraine she held a Ukraine Day for her class during which they cooked traditional Ukrainian foods and learned about Ukrainian culture. A similar holiday was held for her class near Easter for which Mr. Robbins sent painted eggs from Ukraine for the students. He also participated in several video chat sessions with American students to describe Ukrainian culture. He baked American cookies to be sold at a school bake sale and gave the proceeds to the school. At a ceremony, Mr. Robbins was inducted into the Brotherhood of Cossacks. He gave a speech at a local meeting on Victory Day to stress solidarity between America and Ukraine with the victory of World War II.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins invited a teacher to attend a PEPFAR HIV/AIDS Awareness training in Kiev and planned a large project to be funded by a grant which would educate the students and teachers of NEC about HIV/AIDS prevention and train a group of students to teach these topics to smaller village schools, though this project was not implemented. Next, Mr. Robbins planned a leadership course for students during the first two weeks of summer after school ended on May 31. This project was more successful as he taught two 1 hour lessons for 5 days with another volunteer, Mattison Brady. Mr. Robbins also participated in the summer day camp at NEC for younger students for 5 days and played games with the children.<br /><br />Throughout the summer and fall of 2010 Mr. Robbins worked with Nadezhda Kodenkova on writing a SPA grant to receive equipment and support for trainings for a journalism club at NEC. This project turned out to be a large success as NEC now has an active group of 15 students who participate in the publishing of the school newspaper “Smile of Fortune” using the computer and printer bought with grant funds. This paper is the only one of its kind in the region and one of three in the oblast. This project has proven itself to be sustainable once Mr. Robbins leaves.<br /><br />Despite the setbacks in his daily activities, Mr. Robbins was able to maintain his American sports club and assistance at English lessons. In addition he began helping with P.E. lessons. There he was able to teach American sports in a more formal setting, as well as train the P.E. teachers on methods and techniques for coaching American sports. Mr. Robbins assisted one P.E. teacher to film two such lessons, one on American football and another on ultimate Frisbee, to be submitted to an oblast competition.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins also planned an Anti-smoking Day in coordination with International Non-smoking day. He planned demonstrations, a poster contest, and a short speech. The poster contest was marginally successful with 4 entries but the speech and demonstrations were cancelled due to a last minute lack of support from Nadeshda Kodenkova despite earlier promises of time and resources.<br /><br />Besides his daily activities at NEC, Mr. Robbins conducted several secondary projects in the community in which he lived, Konstantinovka, a town of 70,000 residents. Through the help of a local newspaper reporter, Vladimir Berezin, Mr. Robbins organized a community English club at a local history museum which was active for the duration of his service. Topics for the English club initially centered around a memoir written in English by a former citizen of Konstantinovka who was imprisoned in Nazi work camps during WWII. This served to raise awareness of a neglected part of those who suffered during WWII, eastern Europeans, leading to a permanent exhibit on the subject at the museum. Later, with the help of an English teacher from a nearby agricultural technical school, Inna Ilyina, topics for the club centered around leadership and communication. The club saw an average attendance of 10 participants from various schools throughout Konstantinovka who were typically 16 – 17 years old, though occasionally older and younger people participated.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins also taught youth development topics at other schools at the invitation of different English teachers. At Konstantinovka School 13 he was able to teach healthy lifestyles topics 2 days a week to 6 classes for 2 months until the NEC director expressed resentment at his working with another school. Later, he was able to teach leadership and communication lessons at Konstantinovka Agricultural Technical School for 1.5 hours a week with his contact Inna Ilyina for 6 months. The students and teachers were very receptive of these lessons, leading the technical school to apply for a Peace Corps volunteer of their own. All resources used for the lessons were given to Inna so that she would be able to conduct similar lessons in the future.<br /><br />During the summer of 2010, Mr. Robbins worked at a volunteer planned English summer camp for 200 Ukrainian students named Camp LEAD. For 5 days he taught leadership and project design and management lessons to a class of 30 students ages 13 – 16 years old in the city of Krivoy Rog. His other responsibilities included supervising and playing games with students.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins also served on the director’s committee for the HIV/AIDS awareness and prevention focused Camp HEAL in September, 2010. The camp was located in Gorlovka, Donetska oblast, and hosted 50 university level students for 3 days. He was responsible for planning activities such as team building and leadership development games and general entertainment such as evening discos and warm up games. He also contributed to the general planning and development for the camp as well as taught lessons during the camp. He made recommendations and advised the future camp directors in order to continue the camp’s success.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins was very active in one of Peace Corps Ukraine’s working groups, the Healthy Lifestyles Working Group. The purpose of the group is to develop materials and activities which promote and support volunteer and Ukrainian nationals’ health. He helped plan excursions and events such as an ultimate Frisbee weekend to provide volunteers with opportunities to exercise. He developed materials and activities such as those used for his Anti Smoking Day. He used materials gathered by the working group in his lessons at English Club as well as School 13 and the Agricultural Technicum. Mr. Robbins’ biggest contribution to the working group was site development for the working group summer camp, Camp SLAM (Strengthening Lifestyles and Minds). For several years the working group had been attempting to hold a healthy lifestyles based summer camp for Ukrainian students, but was unsuccessful as a potential site could not be identified. Through his contact, Inna Ilyin, Mr. Robbins was able to identify Konstantinovka Agricultural Technicum as a potential location for Camp SLAM, a 5 day summer camp focused on healthy lifestyles and leadership for 100 Ukrainian students. After several meetings with the administration and planning with the working group, the technicum agreed to host the summer camp at reasonable rates and was very welcoming of working with Peace Corps volunteers. Mr. Robbins then assisted in writing a Partnership Grant to fund the camp and in planning the specific details of the camp. At Inna Ilyin’s invitation, he began leadership trainings for a group of students from the technicum who wanted to serve at the camp in a leadership capacity. As the camp was scheduled to take place in July, Mr. Robbins was unable to attend and see the final results of this work.<br /><br />Mr. Robbins worked hard to learn Russian as any of his work outside of the English classroom was conducted in Russian. He attended tutoring 1-2 times a week and attended an in-service language refresher provided by Peace Corps in January 2010. At the end of his service he achieved Intermediate High on the Language Proficiency Interview.<br /><br />Following Ukraine's Declaration of Independence in 1991 and its decision to become an independent democratic country, a bilateral agreement was signed by US and Ukrainian Presidents to establish a U.S. Peace Corps Program in Ukraine in 1992. Since then, US Peace Corps Volunteers have been serving in Ukraine in the areas of business development, education, environmental protection, youth development, and community development. Mr. Robbins work as a Youth Development Volunteer, as well as his role as a representative of the people, culture, values and traditions of the United States of America, was part of a nation-wide development effort in Ukraine.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-15327698392867232422011-05-01T09:32:00.001-07:002011-05-09T01:15:16.649-07:00Coming to Terms<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Well, it’s been awhile, again. But honestly, I’ve been here long enough that most things seem so routine that they’re not worth blogging about. I figure you’d like to at least know what I’ve been up to, so here’s a quick rundown of the past couple months.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I spent my birthday in the Carpathian Mountains in western Ukraine with my training group at our Close of Service Conference. Basically Peace Corps treated us like kings and put us up in a resort and fed us awesome food and let us chill for a few days. Then I met up with some friends in the Healthy Lifestyles Working Group and we went skiing for a couple days. It was a sweet trip.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">As far as I can remember, March was pretty quiet, until Mom came the first week of April. I took her and Tia, her chaperone, down to Yalta in Crimea. Except for the dreary weather, it was a great trip. I didn’t realize all the history hidden down in Crimea. Took Mom and Tia back to my site for literally a few hours and drug her through school, English club, and a dinner with some Ukrainian friends before sending them off to their own adventures in Amsterdam. Ask them about that. It’ll make you giggle. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Mattison (my sitemate) and I hosted another ultimate Frisbee weekend which was a resounding success. Then I spent Easter camping in the woods of Svyatagorsk and spent most of the night before Easter standing outside a monastery and hiking a mountain. Since then it’s been bike rides, Spring weather, numerous holidays, picnics, and dachas (Ukrainian summer houses/gardens). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Workwise, I’ve been working on a pretty large summer camp at a secondary site focused on Healthy Lifestyles. It’ll be in July so I won’t get to see the fruits of my labor, but we’ve got the whole Healthy Lifestyles Working Group working on it so I have no doubt it will be successful. That secondary site, an agricultural technical school, is pretty awesome so I convinced them to apply for a volunteer and they should be getting one this June.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I think I mentioned earlier that I wrote a grant for a journalism club at my site. Well, we got our money and bought a computer with all the trimmings, a camera, and a nice printer. Now my school has the capability to be the only school in the area that can print a newspaper, and it’s only one of three schools in the oblast with such capabilities. Believe me, they’re proud of that, and I can't help being proud too. They have definitely run with the project.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Otherwise I don’t do much of anything at school. Except for the summer camp I don’t have any outstanding projects. It’s all winding down and I can’t believe it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I knew this time would come; the time when there’s no time left and all that’s left is reflection. It’s time to come to terms with a lot. Did I really accomplish anything? Did I do my best? Can I go home satisfied with what I did here? How are people going to remember me here? Will they remember me at all? How does this all come to play in my future? What will I do with all the relationships I’ve made that are about to be subjected to a nearly insurmountable distance? How do I make the most of the hastily receding time I have left in country? All these questions and many more are swirling in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Peace Corps is nothing if not sobering. I feel like I had to fight and scrape to accomplish anything that met my definition of success at my school. So accomplishing anything seems to be something to hang my hat on. But then I start working at that agricultural technical school and accomplish as much there in one day as I do at my own school in a month. It’s hard not to look at that and think I could have accomplished so much more had circumstances been different.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">But I’ve really come to appreciate that small measure of success. At least I won’t leave Ukraine feeling completely defeated. There have been times where I sit and wonder if I’m really cut out for this. But I know now how to fight and endure, and I know that when everything falls into place, I can run.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I know I’ll never be satisfied with what I did here, and that’s not a bad thing. I haven’t been satisfied since my first trip to Russia when I was 16. I’ve got this itch to be here and do something about the problems, and each subsequent trip I return with more skill which lets me do more. I know I haven’t reached my full potential yet, so that means I’ll most likely keep coming back and seeing how and where else I can be useful.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">As for the future, I’m going to go to grad school to study International Relations. Somehow I got into Johns Hopkins and on top of that they are sending me to their Bologna, Italy campus to spend my first year. It’s an incredible opportunity, and by specializing in Russian and Eurasian Studies I’ll be setting myself up for a career in scratching that itch. I know this opportunity would never have been possible without doing Peace Corps in Ukraine, so that, if nothing else, makes this whole experience worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Only time will tell what will happen to the relationships I’ve cultivated here, whether with Ukrainians or Americans. As my past has shown, I’ll always consider them close friends, but some will stay in close touch and make the effort to get together, while others I may never see or hear from again. And those who stay close won’t necessarily be those I’d expect. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Talking about this and what I’ll do with the remaining month and a half just makes me incredibly sad. I have impossibly mixed emotions about leaving. I miss my family, friends, and home intensely, especially since the tornado struck. But this is home too, and coming back isn’t like a trip from Ringgold to Athens. I don’t know what the future holds and if I’ll ever even get back here. Right now, just the possibility of coming back is getting me through. That’s all I got. So basically I’m just trying not to think about it, thus another reason I put off blogging.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Anyways, it’s warm finally so I’m soaking up my favorite season in Ukraine. I’ll be home at the end of June. I expect to party the entire two months or so before I head off again to Italy, so get ready.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-70067449464275108832011-02-02T04:00:00.000-08:002011-02-02T04:03:32.308-08:00Veteranism<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Having spent 22 months in Ukraine now there is one feeling in particular that stands out:<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m a veteran. We just got a huge group of newbies. I was able to spend Christmas with a lot of them and I couldn’t help but think they have a long way to go. The questions they asked and the advice they sought made me look back at the fears and concerns I had when I first arrived in the country, and then at site. I realize how much I’ve grown and developed since I’ve been here. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">I came as group 36. The next group, 37, arrived the Christmas before last. I was already somewhat a vet when they arrived, but that group constitutes the majority of my friends and we have figured out Peace Corps Ukraine together. Since then, groups 38, 39, and 40 have arrived. Now I just feel old. Most of the volunteers who arrive are only a year or two younger than me, but I feel, and sometimes am perceived, to be much older. There’s just something 2 years experience in Peace Corps will do to you. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">There are a lot of things new volunteers have to figure out. It starts simple: which market has the freshest food, where to find the Oreos in your town, how to negotiate the confusing bus and train system, which teachers are the easiest to work with at school. But then things start to get more complex: how to cook potatoes and buckwheat in the most possible combinations to stretch out that meager Peace Corps stipend, where to go to get taco seasoning, how to get the train station cashier to call you when a seat opens up on a booked train, how to negotiate a grant and make your teachers do a project truly American style.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">You start to learn how to get through life the easiest way possible. You get a certain Peace Corps street smarts that helps you avoid difficult situations. You get desensitized and learn what’s not worth freaking out about. You also develop much better language skills which just makes everything easier, not to mention you eventually find most of the people in town who speak English. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">You also learn what you need to do to take care of yourself. Whether it be a night out with friends, watching marathons of The Office, splurging on the one excuse for a steak at the store, a vacation to Egypt, or a Skype date with an old friend, there are some things you just have to do to keep sane. As volunteers in Ukraine we often get a bad rap as living the easy life of Peace Corps. But people who consider Ukraine to be Europe, or even Eastern Europe for that matter are making a mistake. Where I live in Ukraine, until relatively recently, has always been Russia, a country with its own religion, its own political system, its own traditions. Yes the West has had its influence and can be seen in daily life, but the existence of McDonalds here makes Ukraine only as western as Iraq. This culture picks and chooses what to adopt, and never fully conforms to a western mindset. The fact that the majority of the people look like white Europeans only serves as a false façade. The cultural differences are vast and complicated and easily catch you off guard. Nothing is simple. So when the divide gets overwhelming, it’s necessary to find ways to escape.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Don’t get me wrong. I’m not constantly trying to create a little American haven within Ukraine. I have fully immersed myself in this culture and integrated well in my community. I feel at home here now and could see myself living here indefinitely. I’m going to miss it dearly. That’s part of being a veteran too – knowing how to balance remaining American in Ukraine. Sometimes it feels like I’m being pulled apart in two different directions: loving adventure too much to stay put in America; loving America too much to ever be fully Ukrainian. It takes reconciling the bittersweet emotions of a love for your homeland and a love for the exotic to survive in a situation like Peace Corps. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-69158562938236898032010-11-02T10:12:00.000-07:002010-11-03T10:12:29.689-07:00Why We Stay Two YearsAs I get deeper into my second year as a volunteer, the more grateful I am that my contract stipulates I spend at least two years at my site. As I experience similar situations as a year ago I see how much more capable I am at dealing with them and how much more productive I can be. But there are other reasons as well that prove two years is better than one.<div><br /></div><div>I can honestly say if it weren't for the second year, I would have accomplished nearly nothing during my tenure as a volunteer. My first fall in Ukraine saw me struggling. I was fighting with my school creating frustration on both sides. I was accomplishing nothing and my school seemed to be making sure that was the case. Spring brought a new perspective and I gave in to my school's way of doing things. However, no matter how hard I tried to make them happy nothing really happened, though progress was made and a status quo was established. Summer saw break throughs and my school was finally impressed with some of my projects. Now the doors are wide open. Not only am I allowed to do projects that before wouldn't have stood a chance, but I receive true support.</div><div><br /></div><div>Part of the success I'm experiencing is due to time. It took ages for my school's and my expectations to finally meet somewhere in the middle. Now that my school is comfortable with me and I with them we have a productive working relationship. But I've also developed as a volunteer and can do my job better. I speak much better Russian which helps immensely. I know where to look for support and who to talk to in order to get things done. Plus I have a few successes to hang my hat on to prove I'm not just blowing hot air.</div><div><br /></div><div>The result of all this is that I'm scrambling to pack as many projects in to my remaining time as possible. I'm trying to make up for last year and turn my defeats into victories during this last school year. Projects that failed miserably last fall stand a fighting chance. Projects that saw some measure of success are being improved upon. And I'm boldly embarking on new projects that still probably don't stand a chance, but are worth a shot. If not for the second year I would have left this place frustrated wondering about the meaning of life.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm also realizing I made some hasty judgments in my first year. You'll remember in one of my previous blogs I mentioned that Ukrainians seem to let the land lay fallow before winter and make no effort to prepare anything before snow falls looking forward to spring. Well, I was wrong. Last fall was miserable. It rained everyday and the first snow fell early in November. It was terribly cold terribly early. This fall has been much milder. The sun shines way more than rain falls. Snow isn't even in the picture on these beautiful crisp fall days where everything seems to glow. The result of such fine weather is that everyone is raking leaves and burning all the trash collected with them. The work has been feverish for over two weeks now. Had I not been around to see a second fall, my first, more negative, theory would have held. It takes time to really understand what's going on around you. This isn't the only instance, and I despair at the thought of what naivety would be unmasked by five years in this country.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two years have also given the opportunity for acquaintances to become true friends. I am happy that I have found several Ukrainians I enjoy spending time with and talking to. I did meet most of them last year, but knowing I would be spending another year here made me much more apt to make the effort to pursue deeper friendships. Furthermore, some people I met but did not attempt to get to know very well have become good friends this second year. It honestly took either them or me time to get the courage to make an attempt at friendship. We quickly find that we've been missing out.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sure all volunteers would agree with me, two years is necessary. Most would advocate an even longer term, as is evidenced by those extending their service for up to an extra year. Have not doubt, two years is a long time and we feel it as strongly as you at home. But in order to accomplish what we came for, whether it be lasting change, cultural understanding, or new relationships, time is necessary. We didn't come here to visit. We knew we were making an investment, and it is one that has payed back tenfold. </div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-27096111063640809672010-09-15T04:45:00.000-07:002010-09-15T04:47:39.324-07:00The Summer 'Recap'<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Well, it’s been a long time, and a lot’s happened this past summer. I know a lot of you aren’t big fans of the ‘recap’, but I feel one’s necessary to even begin to move forward. Unfortunately there’s not one major theme that can tie everything together. But my summer has definitely been one for the books, and lived up to every expectation I had.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I began in early June by holding a leadership school for the 5<sup>th</sup> through 8<sup>th</sup> grades at my school. My site mate Mattison helped me out, and we conducted short lessons and activities on leadership. The lessons went ok, except for one day the kids were just stubborn and massive pains. The setup wasn’t ideal – around 50 kids at a time stuck in an auditorium on the first days of summer break. Luckily the lessons only lasted about 45 minutes. It was the first time I and my school found something major to work together on, and the first time I think they really took me seriously. I actually felt their appreciation, which is a big success.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Through a lucky miscommunication and an executive decision by my director, I got ‘stuck’ babysitting the 1<sup>st</sup> through 5<sup>th</sup> graders during their school day camp. At first it was assumed I was incapable of handling the rugrats in Russian for 4 hours a day. But they don’t realize I operate on around a 5<sup>th</sup> grade level, and there are plenty of different ways to communicate besides words. I had a blast and got to know the kids that had more or less been hidden from me due to reservations based on my language abilities. It was a ton of fun and most likely opened up some opportunities. Most of all, I garnered more approval from my school.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Then there was some blissful time off. I went out to Lviv and got to see the Polish side of Ukraine which was really Western and beautiful in contrast to the stark, Soviet East. I got to go rock climbing and camping. Me and Mattison put our bikes to work as evidenced by the necessity to allot 30 extra minutes every ride for repairs. We probably found every swimmable pond in a 30 mile radius. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Then I took off for Russia. I met up with a group from my church in Ringgold down in the Caucasus Mountains and helped with a summer camp. I got to really practice my Russian and put my Peace Corps training to use while teaching football and ultimate Frisbee. The camp site was beautiful, right next to a river and in view of snow capped peaks. I made some amazing friends and really felt like I was with brothers and sisters. No floods this time, but a nasty stomach virus spread through all the Americans, starting with me. I was lucky just to suffer for one night, but there was one moment where I looked around and lonelily wondered where all the Americans had gone. They were all holed up in the hotel on the premises of the conference center where we had our meals and meetings. Luckily everybody was healthy enough to travel to Moscow and on to home. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Moscow was excellent. Did the typical tourist stuff with the group around Red Square. Then I spent some time with an acquaintance in one of the outer areas of the city. I hoped she would just let me explore on my own and let me rest from my exhausting time in the mountains. No. She wanted to show me her favorite parks, both of which were massive and nowhere near her apartment. But they were amazing and beautiful and she was a brilliant guide. I finally got the gist of Moscow summer life with people lolling about on the grass, playing sports, strolling at glacial paces I find impossible to mimic. Muscovites love their parks and cherish the sun. As for resting, my hostess graciously allowed me to nap for a couple of hours in a park since her apartment was too hot, and then took me to the gym at 10pm. Around midnight we had coffee, then we went to the grocery store. I was exhausted and ready to pass out, and she finally let me go to sleep. The next day I took a marvelously air conditioned speed train to St. Petersburg. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">In St. Petersburg I ran myself ragged. In the 5 days I spent there I probably saw what most people would comfortably see in a week and a half. But with the basic absence total darkness, it was too hard not to lounge in a park reading a book past 10pm. I missed most of my meals except when I could grab a little street food, started my day early, and collapsed late. St. Petersburg is a baroque Disney World. Luckily, baroque is my favorite style, and I just couldn’t get enough. The palaces located away from the city looked like fairy tales with sprawling English gardens. The czars really didn’t get the concept of modesty. My only issue with St. Pete was that it was so disjointed and difficult to get around. It wasn’t a very cohesive city, like Moscow. But then again, it wasn’t planned to be. Of note, I ate all of my meals in wonderful fast food restaurants I haven’t set foot in for over a year. Pizza Hut, Subway, KFC, just to name a few. The best ones were the restaurants that had drink machines that would let you fill your cup with as much ice as you wanted, a phenomenon I’m not sure exists anywhere in Ukraine. You might think it’s sad or pathetic that I didn’t go for more native cuisine, but let’s be honest. I eat borsch every day at school, and it really doesn’t get more complex than that. Forgive me for going for comfort rather than the norm.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I came back to Ukraine and had a couple weeks to recover before I began work at a couple of camps. However, the camp for which I was the activities director got canceled at the very last minute due to soviet style extortion. I was disappointed, but it gave me some more time to relax, like I needed it. I went out to central Ukraine for Camp LEAD, which was focused on leadership, as the name implies. I worked like a dog to explain concepts like stigma and discrimination to high schoolers, but they were troopers and I wanted to bring them all back to my school with me. I had a blast and got lots of much needed practice teaching in front of a classroom.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Then school started. Having met with my director and assistant director, it seems we’ve finally struck middle ground for what the school wants from me. They realize my limitations, but understand it’s not a lack of effort. So they are finally making concessions that will hopefully lead to a more successful semester. I’m also working on a grant to create a communications center for the school where they can write newspapers and record radio broadcasts. The thought of their American bringing them money has definitely increased my approval rating.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Then out of the ashes Camp HEAL came back into existence. It had to be scaled back, but it was still a great success and I got to perform the duties I was so looking forward to. As was Camp LEAD, Camp HEAL was extremely exhausting. But this time I was working with university students and developed some closer relationships, especially since their English was excellent. Camp HEAL covered some major topics such as leadership, HIV/AIDS biology and transmission, human trafficking, and healthy lifestyles. The participants also had to write, film, and produce a 30 second PSA about a topic from the camp. To test students’ comprehension of topics, we had them prepare a lesson plan from one of the topics covered at the camp and teach it to other students from their university. The camp only lasted 3.5 days, but it was intense and left some lasting impressions on the students. Plus, they now know tons of ridiculous games I and the other counselors taught them. So it wasn’t all work and no play.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">This summer, as you probably heard me complain, was unbearably hot. I don’t understand how a place that experiences -20 F temperatures in winter can see sustained +100 F temperatures in the summer. Believe me, the infrastructure is better designed to handle -20 than +100. But the temperature quickly dropped. Now we’re in the 50s and 60s everyday, much to my dismay. I love fall, but not in September. At this rate it’s going to snow in October, and that’s not okay. We’re making the best of it. Me and Mattison put in 140 miles on the bikes this weekend, thanks to a 70 mile group ride which featured some Dutch people and a trip down into a massive salt mine. We’re even trying to pretend it’s still warm enough to swim, going for quick dips in ponds after warming rides. We’re not really convincing ourselves well though. It’s not cool when things go numb. So now my life is heading back to order now that all the camps are over and school has started back. But I’m on the downward slope – 10 months to go!</span></p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-29018451746526955332010-06-29T13:45:00.001-07:002010-06-29T13:45:44.610-07:00Two Wheels<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">This spring and summer have been all about the bike. After a long and terrible winter, it’s been super therapeutic to be out in the sun for hours rolling through the Ukrainian countryside. It’s been so interesting watching the seasons develop out in the fields. I’ve gotten tons of exercise and have seen more of my region than most Ukrainians I know.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">As you should already know, I have two bikes here: a single speed Ukrainian clunker called Belo and a slightly better-than-walmart mountain bike called Arty. I’ve more or less given Belo to my site mate Mattison and I ride Arty when we go out. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Most of our rides are completely adventurous. We take off in one direction out of the city, set our internal compasses in one direction, then take whatever dirt roads catch our interest. These rides have really opened up my eyes to the beauty of the steppe. Rivers, hollows, hills, plains, villages, ponds, pastures, cows, goats, forest, babushkas, and wheat. Tons and tons of wheat. We’ve seen it all. We’ve watched the fields change color. We’ve gotten stuck in foot deep mud. We’ve navigated through herds of cattle. It’s definitely back country riding.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Sometimes we here about natural wonders nearby and head out to find them. There are these natural white cliffs that for some reason poke out of one hill in a city not too far away. But they’re not typical stone. The best I can describe it is a kind of chalk. It makes for a rather gorgeous sight. They are easy to access and climb around, so it’s easy to get a good view from the top. We also found this small canyon nearby which has cliffs of its own. The access trail was a pretty good drop which made things interesting. There’s a nature preserve and a lake which has also been excellent to ride around.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Here lately, we’ve taken to linking up cities. We’ll pick certain cities or villages and take off on long circuits. The longest we’ve put together so far was 60 miles. We look at a map before we go but rely on the locals for the rest. It’s excellent to walk up to a taxi stand and set off an argument about the quickest way to get to X on a bike. Of course the initial reaction is “you want to go WHERE?” And then there’s “you’re coming from WHERE?” We’ve had some really interesting conversations. But we’ve never been hopelessly lost.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">A few weekends ago we went on an organized ride put on in a neighboring city. It was focused on touring the history of Orthodoxy in the area. So we went to significant villages and churches, saw a couple crosses, and listened to a priest or two. Unfortunately we didn’t understand much of the history that was related to us. The organization of the ride was great. We had the full support of a lead car and a SAG wagon. Water was provided as well as any mechanical aid we needed. The pace was miserably slow, so we ended up being on the bike for around 10 hours including all our breaks. Near the end of the ride we turned off the road and found people cooking over a fire and setting up a picnic in a small clearing in the forest. We were surprised when we learned they were cooking for us. They had Ukrainian <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">kulesh</i>, porridge, fried fish, cucumber salad, the works. We were hoping for hotdogs and hamburgers, but this was much more culturally appropriate, of course. There were nearly 30 people from around the area on the ride and everybody made it all 40 miles. Me and Mattison had to ride 10 miles each way to get to the start so we ended up having another 60 mile day. The ride was free, so from what we gathered, it was a local Orthodox church reaching out to the community.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">We’ve met a local mechanic in a nearby city and have made friends with him. It’s been interesting going and just sitting at his shop and watching the community come by and get their bikes fixed. He really knows his stuff. He makes building a wheel, one of the most technical and difficult repairs a bike mechanic can do, look like child’s play. It’s so obvious his shop is an integral part of the community. Everybody who comes in seems to know him. And a look around the city shows that cycling is popular, and I would bet our mechanic friend Andre has a lot to do with that. He’s let Mattison and me work off our debts to him. If we need him to fix something for us, we’ll take care of his more minor tasks while we’re waiting. Once he did a quick fix on my bike for nothing, or else I had saved up some credit somewhere.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US">Sometimes I feel like Arty has saved me. I’ve come out of a deep dark place from this winter and bike rides have been the only thing that gives me a lasting fulfillment. It feels so good blowing off energy and regaining muscles. It’s done wonders for my mood and state of mind. It’s also opened up parts of summer I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy otherwise. For example, our last couple rides have simply been to test out the different ponds in the area. I thank God for my bike and the ability to ride it. It’s made all the difference.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-14052120318429178562010-05-28T13:39:00.000-07:002010-05-30T09:14:50.497-07:00PresenceAt the moment, if you ask me what one thing has been the biggest key to any success I've had in Ukraine thus far, I would tell you that mere presence can make all the difference.<div><br /></div><div>I came in like gangbusters with training, energy, motivation, ideas, and ideals. Well that didn't get me very far. I thought I was doing everything the way I was supposed to, furthermore, like my school wanted me to. After a while, it became obvious that the harder I tried the more the projects I attempted slipped away. This led to much frustration for both parties, both feeling like we'd been given a raw deal by Peace Corps - me feeling like I had an uncooperative site; my school feeling like they'd been given a crappy volunteer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Largely due to my Ukrainian Peace Corps manager's advice, I made being present at my school a priority. That meant going to school even when I had nothing to do; going to English classes and sitting in the back even though the teacher didn't allow me to help; going to staff meetings which are often in Ukrainian, a language that eludes me even more than Russian. And most recently it meant going to events that I wasn't even invited to.</div><div><br /></div><div>On May 9, the former Allies except America celebrated Victory Day over the Nazis in WWII. I haven't experienced this holiday anywhere else, but I can't imagine it's observed more furtively than in the former Soviet Union. And rightly so, as the Soviets sacrificed millions of their citizens and massive swaths of their lands, more than any other single country during the war. Though if you ask a veteran here whether the Soviets needed America's help to defeat Germany, you're likely to get a resounding no. Victory Day is possibly the biggest point of pride for a former Soviet, the day they saved their own country and ideals from oblivion. This year marked the 65th anniversary of that day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was able to gather from teachers at my school that our students would be hosting a ceremony at a memorial in a tiny village nearby. I learned what time the bus would be leaving for the village and told them I would be there. Much to their surprise I actually showed up at 8am on a Sunday morning to catch a rickety old bus with students to go to an obscure village with no obvious motivation to do so. </div><div><br /></div><div>I noticed the assistant director in charge of the ceremony was panicking slightly, and found out nobody had a camera to document the event. It just so happened I had brought my camera and I scored major points as the assistant director gave covert head jerks and finger points to make sure the proper photos were taken throughout. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the students were getting ready, my school's director came over to me and offered that I give a short speech during the ceremony for the veterans. I of course was completely unprepared and was luckily allowed to give my speech in English and have it translated. I spoke about how Americans understand and respect the sacrifice the Soviet Union made in WWII. I told about my grandfather and how he fought against the Nazis, just as the men I was standing in front of had. I spoke of the solidarity between two rival nations that must always be remembered on a day when peace returned to the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>That my grandfather was a veteran of WWII was rather surprising to those who I work with. I think they were actually impressed, and were willing to admit that perhaps I might understand a little bit about what this holiday means to them. </div><div><br /></div><div>At one point I and the students gave flowers to the veterans and villagers. I found an old man who was wearing a 'California U.S.A.' trucker hat who didn't have a flower and gave him mine. I didn't realize the significance of this until later.</div><div><br /></div><div>After the meeting, the entire village was bussed back to our school where the typical celebratory appetizers and spirits had been arranged. We ate and toasted and the mood moved from somber to joyous. Some of the women began singing a song, and immediately the entire room swelled with the voices of the villagers joining in 'Katusha', the song most Soviets associate with WWII and their victory. I brought out my camera again and began to video them as they sang. A couple of the women noticed and threw their arms around me and made sure that the revelers sang at least 5 more verses so I would have plenty of footage. </div><div><br /></div><div>I looked down my table and noticed the man I had given my flower to was near the end. I caught his eye and he smiled and nodded at me. I went back to my mashed potatoes, and the teacher I was talking to was beckoned by the man to speak with him. When she returned she explained to me that the man was very thankful to me for giving him the flower. It was the only flower he was given, this man who fought so bravely to give himself the right to quietly pass his days in a small village in Ukraine, in freedom. We stood and toasted to each other and exchanged a furtive handshake. As he made his way out of the room he picked a few of the petals off the flower and gave them to me. I was almost beside myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>As more people trickled out of the little cafeteria, the ladies began singing again. You could hear in their voices the jubilation and the pride at what their country had accomplished. It was so beautiful, the emotion so deep and real. I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down into tears and was completely overwhelmed by emotion. The mayor of the village I was talking to clapped me on the back and said, "It's a beautiful holiday isn't it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>So it was that merely showing up made for one of the greatest experiences I've had in Peace Corps so far. My presence was unexpected, but I could tell it was appreciated. Who knows how this one day will pay off in the future. It's learning these subtleties that is helping me slowly but surely make something of my work.</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-76027567254037554022010-04-20T12:32:00.000-07:002010-04-23T05:43:01.662-07:00Only TodayI've been neglecting writing the requisite post describing the wonders of spring and the burgeoning of life in Ukraine after such a dismal winter. It all seemed too cliche. But I've come to realize the Ukrainian response to spring illuminates a deeper mentality some would say is peculiar to Soviets.<div><br /></div><div>In one of my favorite accounts of the Soviet Union, Off The Map, there is a dialogue between an American and a Soviet woman. When an American woman expresses her wish for pancakes every day like the ones she has just tasted, the Soviet woman replies, "It is wasteful to think of tomorrow...tomorrow is only tomorrow and it will come and you cannot change it." The American woman questions, "Then you never think of tomorrow?" "I wait for tomorrow. I see only today," is the Soviet's answer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Beginning the week before Easter, Ukrainians exploded in a torrent of work. The snow had melted only a very few weeks before. People began raking yards, burning piles of what they raked, painting curbs, shoveling and sweeping dirt off streets, patching potholes, installing new storefronts to shops, washing cars, on and on. After this was all accomplished, tilled earth began appearing everywhere. Almost any patch of available ground became the foundation of some form of garden. I imagine all these gardens have been planted by now, but the fruits of such labor have yet to be realized, except where the barren stalks of recently planted flowers are waiting to burst into full bloom.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is as if Ukraine has awoken from a long slumber, much like any place I can imagine that experiences a true winter. But not so much as waking from sleep, as rising from the dead. The difference these past few weeks have made is night and day. If I ask myself what visible efforts Ukrainians made to prepare for winter, I could not point to any. Last fall it was as if everything stopped in time. Roads were washed to ruin, trees cut down and left where they fell, yards overgrown with weeds, roadsides covered in trash, and worst of all, manhole covers crumbled and left wide open. I found a few of these the hard way.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think back to my American memories of frantically trying to get everything ready for winter. I remember my family toiling for days in the yard making sure every leaf and acorn was cleared. We meticulously covered the pool and added appropriate chemicals to the water. Those of us who had boats or other such summery toys took the proper precautions for what winter might do to them inside garages. Exterior vents were covered. Water pipes were insulated. All of this done so either nothing would be ruined over winter, or reconditioning would be made easier in the spring. I'll never forget the joy of only having to pull off the cover of the pool, set up the filter, and add a little water during the first heat wave of the year if the pool had been winterized correctly. And nothing was worse than trying to mow the yard the first time if the leaves had not been raked the previous fall. But everything done in preparation for winter was done with the expectation that spring was imminent, and winter only to be endured.</div><div><br /></div><div>The way Ukrainians have treated their work this spring seems as though no spring were expected. Why pick up the tree if there's no guarantee of spring? Why build the roads to withstand winter if there's no guarantee for winter to end? And what is lost if nothing is done before winter? If spring does come, it can all be taken care of then. Life is dealt with as it comes. Problems are addressed when they need to be, but not before.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, don't mistake this for procrastination or laziness. The moment Clean Thursday came before Easter, everyone, I mean everyone, began working with a zeal any American would envy. It was as if my city suddenly became aware of the mess and was embarrassed by it. It simply exemplifies to me the mentality to live for today, for the moment. If that moment is good, it will be remembered, even glorified as will soon be shown by the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the victory of WWII. But to work ahead is pushing it. The bitter sting of disappointment is still strong in the former Soviet Union of failed hopes for tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Evidence of 'только сегодня (tolka sevodnya)', 'only today', is everywhere, whether it be the white paint on curbs already washing off, or the factory worker standing at the ATM pulling out every penny in his account on payday. It's been difficult getting used to living and working in this mindset. But maybe with time, a little bit of 'завтра (zaftra)', 'tomorrow', a much more poetic word in my opinion, will creep into the frozen Soviet mindset.</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-86127384999198671802010-03-17T11:23:00.000-07:002010-03-18T11:53:33.141-07:00Life as it is - One year in UkraineIt's getting real a little more everyday. I'm leaving the sense of adventure and entering Ukraine as real life. I was waiting for a train with a friend who still marvels at what we're doing. "Does it ever just blow your mind where you are, what you're doing?" Honestly, at this point I just do it. Hopping a train to Kiev overnight for 13 hours is as exciting and novel to me as driving from Atlanta to Ringgold. Just another trip. I think my friend's point is that it's weird that somehow with our infantile Russian we managed to find our way to the train station, in the dark, and find the right platform to ride a train 13 hours filled with strangers in a foreign country, and it's become second nature. The new is wearing off, but with this normalization comes the progression of relationships.<div><br /></div><div>I've advanced from being the object of wide-eyed amazement from kids at school to being greeted casually with the equivalent of "whuzzup" and handshakes. It's difficult walking down the hall as 30 boys from 5th to 11th grades attempt to shake my hand. And all I want is to pee. I really feel as though the kids like me, like I'm their friend. I'm not sure how important such relationships are to the goals of Peace Corps. The ability to throw a football doesn't really translate into enabling a kid to become a skilled worker, or does it? It's not like these kids aren't loved. I'm not dealing with AIDS orphans who are never held. But there's still something that seems so valuable in being able to connect with the kids at my school and show them how much I love them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Every day at school I fall a little more in love with my students. They really keep me on my toes. Every now and then my 6th grade boys behave like, well, 6th grade boys. I'll be sitting in my office, writing copious unnecessary though required documents for my director, when after a short knock 5 boys burst into my office, further disgruntling my office mate, the building manager. In high pitched, chipmunk Russian:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ben, give us the footballs," says the boy who eats the ice off puddles.</div><div>"No, today's not your sports club day, it's class 7a today."</div><div>"But Ben, please!" says the freckly boy surprisingly called 'Dave'.</div><div>"No, I'll play with you guys on Friday."</div><div>"But Ben we don't have anymore classes and we need to learn how to throw footballs better," begs Ice Boy.</div><div>"What did I say?"</div><div>"Please Ben," boys in unison.</div><div>"Get out of my office, Galina Genadivna's getting mad," with mock severity, but sincere paranoia at what the woman across from me will do if they don't leave in 30 seconds.</div><div>"No."</div><div>"<i>Yes</i>."</div><div>"No. Give us the frisbees instead," cunning Dave attempts.</div><div>"No. I'm playing frisbee with 7a."</div><div>"Then give us the footballs."</div><div>"You'll lose them, no way."</div><div>"No Ben, we'll be careful."</div><div>"I said <i>no</i>, now get out," standing, herding the boys out of the office.</div><div>"Ben you're mean," says Ice Boy holding on for dear life to the door frame.</div><div>"Let go," I groan, and the little punk slips back into the office, grabs my bike helmet, and runs out.</div><div><br /></div><div>I try to get mad. I try not to grin as I half-heartedly chase the gremlin out of the school. I just can't do it. I can't get mad, I can't be mean. They're too funny, too innocent, too much fun. I head back to my office, shaking my head and smiling, and a few minutes later Ice Boy bursts back into my office, hangs my helmet back on my bike, stops to wave, chirps "Bye Ben," in English, and runs out.</div><div><br /></div><div>My job has turned me into a glorified P.E. teacher. The new volunteers who teach 20 hours of English a week hate me when I tell stories of playing ultimate frisbee with 6th graders most every day. Those volunteers are busy planning, teaching, are out accomplishing tangible results while I play, laugh, occasionally yell, and accomplish seemingly nothing. Even when I do broach the subject of English I play. I have English club instead of lessons and attempt to find as many non-traditional ways to teach English as possible in 45 minutes. This includes doing the Hokey Pokey and playing I Spy.<br /><div><br /></div><div>But this is just my day job. The storm is mounting, and I might actually find myself busy over the next year. I'm planning a week-long day camp for my school about leadership in June. I'm on the director's committee for a camp about HIV/AIDS prevention in early August. I'm a counselor for a camp the last week in August. I've just started planning a major project with grant funding in which I and another teacher will be doing trainings for our teachers, students, and parents on HIV/AIDS prevention, who will then go to the smaller schools throughout the county to train those students. This project will likely last until next January. And I'm in the working group which focuses on Peace Corps Ukraine's healthy lifestyles initiative, which has its own projects which support volunteers.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm quickly approaching my one year mark in Ukraine, and with 15 months to go it's not exactly downhill. One year really means I'm just now truly integrating and it's time to get down to business and put together some semblance of a project that will hopefully leave me and my community with a feeling of significance when I leave.</div><div><br /></div><div>As a side note, I have truly experienced winter. We're having the winter of a decade here. "I'm so sick of this winter. We've never had this much snow this long," bemoans a naive young Ukrainian. "Ah, we had winters all the time like this 50 years ago," a wizened grandma proudly proclaims from the next seat on the bus. Still, this is apparently the worst winter in several years, and I have the privilege of suffering through it with the best of them. It's still hovering around freezing everyday. I go to bed with clear streets and glorious dirt showing. I wake up in the morning and everything is white again. By midday everything is clear again. But it's better than being in the north where there is still a foot of snow on the ground.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just hope I don't have to stand outside a church for Easter in sub freezing temps.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy one year to me and the rest of Group 36!</div></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-15369710695516836462010-02-14T08:43:00.000-08:002010-02-14T12:32:36.064-08:00Christmas 2009 (December 24 - January 7)<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">Hey everybody! I’m really, really sorry it’s taken me so long to get a blog post up. My trip over the holidays took a lot out of me and then it’s taken a month to get settled back into school. So I finally have enough brain power left over after a week to put something new up.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">I'll start with my Christmas. Well, I got a site mate right before Christmas, who has an incredible amount of stuff in common with me, the most important of which is cycling. It’s nice having an American just across the city, especially one who’s easy to get along with. He and the other new kids weren’t allowed to leave site during Christmas, so we kinda worked together to host a big long Christmas party for all the volunteers in the area. We ended up with 8 people in my apartment, with a couple people sleeping over at his. Basically, we cooked, baked, and spoke English to our hearts’ content. For Christmas day, we went to the local bazaar, drew names, and had 30 minutes to spend the equivalent of $2.50 on gifts for each other, secret Santa style. Later, after we cooked a massive Christmas dinner with apple pie for dessert, we had a riot exchanging our gifts. It really made me feel like we were back at my house doing Robbins annual Christmas party. It'd been a while since I'd thrown a party like that and it felt really good. We started on Christmas Eve, and the last of us left on Sunday. I went to Kiev on Sunday for a flu shot and to fly out to meet Austin in Prague.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">I left Kiev for Prague on December 29. My trip started off rough because we got 6 in. of snow the night before I left Kiev, then 6 in. during the day leading up to my flight's departure. When I magically arrived at the airport after a slippery bus ride, I was met by a wall of people dazed and confused about what was going on at the airport. The airport had been closed and thousands of people were stranded in the relatively tiny Kiev airport. My flight was scheduled for 2:45, and started check-in at 2:30. I thought to myself, surely it won't be on time, I've got plenty of time to get through the airport. I was standing with hundreds of people in passport control when a woman came and announced that those going to Warsaw (my connecting city) needed to ask those in front of them to cut line cause you're gonna miss your flight. I didn't even ask. I jumped up front, threw my passport down on the desk to the officer's dismay, and sprinted off to my gate. My flight left a miraculous 30 minutes late, just in time for me to make my connecting flight. Then I got super confused in the Warsaw airport and thought I missed my connecting flight. Turns out I had just forgotten to set my watch back an hour, meaning I had plenty of time.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">Landed in Prague, figured out the ridiculous Czech currency, figured out how to get to the hostel, and decided to make a detour through the old town square. Milled around there, took some pictures at night, in the snow, and watched the clock for the first of many times. Feeling like life had finally paid off, I started off for the hostel. The further I went, the more I realize my hostel was in the redlight district. Sure enough, the entrance to my hostel was guarded by bouncers of the cabaret that shared the same entrance. Instead of having a callbox, or buzzer, or something sane like that, guests must, at all hours, call the host's cell phone to be allowed in the first time. Well, since nobody could tell me how to make a phone call in the Czech Republic either on my cell phone or a pay phone, I spent the next hour trying to figure out how to get in. After finally getting the hostess to come down and paying a $100 deposit I never got back, I went to bed. I had to cover my head with the blanket to block out the flashing lights from the cabaret across the street, and plug my ears with my iPod to drown out the droning music from the floor below. It was a well earned night’s sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">I spent the day browsing the Christmas market and went to meet Austin at the airport, I took him back to the hostel, and we hit the town. We ate on the square at a traditional Czech restaurant. We established the routine of searching for the most amazing hole in the wall Czech restaurants every night. During the days we killed ourselves running around the city checking out all the stuff there is to see. Saw several gorgeous gothic churches, climbed the tower overlooking the astronomical clock, laughed at the thousands of people who gathered every hour to watch the anticlimactic show at the astronomical clock, realized we often watched too, so maybe we're just as dumb, and went through, what I consider the highlight of Prague, the Jewish museum. I'd never been in a synagogue before, much less one that was 500+ years old. There was a really tight district where all the Jewish residents of Prague were centered. The coolest part, and I'm not morbid, was the cemetery. There were thousands of grave markers piled on top of each other because the thousands more dead were buried in layers in a very small area. Some of the markers dated back to the 1400s. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">Somewhat exhausted, we set out to search for dinner before New Years. We had a terrible time finding a place to suit our tastes and our wallets. We walked ourselves silly till we finally stumbled upon this little quiet place in a cellar. Got down there and new we'd found the spot. We were surprised by the number of people already down there eating so early. Had our best dinner in Prague by far. After dinner we rolled our overfed selves around Prague trying to kill the last few hours of 2009. Then we headed out to watch fireworks from beautiful, ancient Charles Bridge. In the crushing mass of people we found our spot while dodging exploding M80's, and realized the people standing behind us were Ukrainian. I struck up a conversation in Russian and realized they live not too far from me. I was asked all the requisite questions: Do you like our Ukraine? Why of all places Ukraine? Have you found a wife there yet? We made friends, and I felt vindicated: if I'm not celebrating New Years in Ukraine, at least I can celebrate it with Ukrainians. Then all hell broke loose. The moment the church bells throughout the city rang in the New Year it seemed everybody had some form of pyrotechnic disaster in their hands to let loose. There were fireworks exploding everywhere. Complete sensory overload. Explosions flashed, bells rang, people shouted, the earth shook. I'm pretty sure I had shell shock afterwards. Then, in the words of Tolstoy, there was a massive movement of people from west to east, then east to west. All the people on the bridge decided to see what was going on in the square, and all the people in the square wanted to be on the bridge. It was like swimming upstream in all directions. Austin and I found the square looking like a war zone, large swaths of cobblestone cluttered with the debris of all the fireworks, some still erupting. People didn't dare enter the hostile zone, and we were sure to skirt the no man's land. We meandered around a little more to check out the mayhem, and finally walked in revelry back to the hostel.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">We poured ourselves out of bed the next day to get Austin to mass to atone for our most recent sins, and fulfill Holy obligation. In the mental smoke lingering from the night's fireworks, we got lost and missed mass in a really important church. We ended up just shooting the breeze with a really cool monk who spoke 12130984 languages. He loaded Austin up with souvenirs to take back for his entire seminary, many of which became 'take one please' at the entrance to the cathedral. We milled around that part of the city, had some good lunch, and then headed up to Prague Castle, just in time to be late for everything. All we could do was walk around the grounds though we were dying to get into the exhibits. Only major failure we had the whole trip, and probably would have killed us if we had made it into all the galleries. Something to go back for I guess. Highlight of my last night was when I haggled a guy down $20 on a ceramic beer stein in Russian. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">We left for Munich on January 2. Getting on the train to Munich, not surprisingly, wasn't easy as they didn't post the platform number until the moment we boarded. The train ride was super relaxing as we rolled through the snow blanketed countryside of Bohemia and Bavaria. Got to Munich and life felt normal for the first time in 9 months. Despite everyone around me speaking German, I got that inexplicable, indelible feeling I've had in New York, London, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Durango, Nashville- I could live here, I'm comfortable here. Munich was a surprising blend of modern with ancient. There was plenty to see, and it was interesting that there were as many German speakers in every church as foreigners. After we got checked in to our hostel, which blew us away with modernity and cleanliness, convenience and overall logic, we headed out to find dinner, and stumbled across Hofbrauhaus, the epic beer hall, and got our first taste of Munich. We had to charm our waiter with sideways glances and well timed head nods to get any attention from our waiter (it was worse than flirting with a pretentious woman- one wrong smile might signify desperation and we might never see him again) and the oompa band played songs that somehow everyone else knew. That pretty much sums up the spirit of Munich. The next day we actually made it to mass, went to a museum filled with Renaissance paintings, then started ticking off sites around Marienplatz. Next day we headed out to Nymphenburg Palace which gave us our fill of Baroque. We walked all over the neighborhood around the palace, which was really cool, but only out of necessity because we were lost again while looking for food. The place we settled on, after walking in a huge circle, had me call upon my meager German abilities to get us through lunch as the waitress didn't speak English. We headed back to the old town and walked through Residenz, another palace. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: 200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";mso-fareast-Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:RUfont-family:";font-size:9.0pt;color:black;">It was hard to say goodbye to Munich. Austin headed out early the next day and I got to see some other parts of the city, unplanned and whimsical, the way I do best, the only way. Had an uneventful flight home. Trudged through another foot of snow in Kiev to the train station and an overnight train ride later landed back in Konstantinovka, on Orthodox Christmas morning, January 7. It was an amazing trip and another epic New Year’s Eve. Austin and I are really setting the bar high for future New Years. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-83952090631117065672009-12-05T13:17:00.000-08:002009-12-06T05:31:53.192-08:00HolidaysThanksgiving for me was well spent with about 15 other volunteers in a city in south/central Ukraine. We actually celebrated on Saturday instead of Thursday, and there were few differences from the holiday at home. We watched football, played football, went shopping, cooked tons of food, then became catatonic afterwards. Of course there were differences. We went shopping at thrift stores, played football in a sketchy paved lot behind a school at dusk (3pm), watched a recorded Jets vs. Patriots game, cooked chicken instead of turkey, and nearly passed out at a sauna instead of on the couch. I loved the Ukrainian flavor it had, and had great company. Sure did miss home though. At least I got to Skype with the whole family on Thanksgiving Day.<div><br /></div><div>Christmas is going to be weird. Ukraine celebrates Christmas on the Orthodox 'Old Calendar' which means they will celebrate actual Christmas on Jan. 7. Thanks to Soviet influence, they will do the whole Santa Claus thing on New Years Eve, which is their big celebration. Which means Dec. 25 is just another day here. It was weird enough forgetting about Thanksgiving on it's actual day, but missing Christmas is a different story. My family, friends, and country are going to be celebrating and I'll be working at school, with nobody acknowledging there is anything special about the day. Going to do my best to make sure I'm around friends who understand at least for a bit on Christmas day. </div><div><br /></div><div>For New Years I'm going to be in Prague, living it up with my bro Austin Foster, giving him some much needed respite from Catholic seminary. I'll arrive in Prague on Dec. 29, meet up with Foster, then head down to Munich on Jan. 2, parting ways on the 5th. The goal is to be in a different city for New Years Eve every year. We've done New Orleans, New York, and now Prague. It will be interesting to see where we end up next.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's gonna stink not celebrating Christmas like usual, but the upside is I will get back to Ukraine in time to celebrate Christmas with my friends on Jan. 7. There are already some plans in the works for that. So at least there's the potential to celebrate Christmas twice! </div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-76668267257093589232009-12-05T11:49:00.000-08:002009-12-05T13:16:52.662-08:00QuarantineSo, once again, I've delayed writing due to lack of a positive perspective. Emotionally it's been a rough past few weeks. But somehow, I got the flu this week and my mood has lifted and the world is bright again, at least in my mind (the forecast for the next 8 days predicts about 8hrs of sunlight TOTAL). This post chronicles life post pleasant bike ride recorded in previous post.<div><br /></div><div>So, as you saw in the previous post it was as if God sent me a rainbow of peace in the form of a cemetery, a babbling brook, and amazing fall colors. I was all set to travel the next week for fall break, regroup, have fun, come back and get going on the schedule we finally pounded out but had yet to actually realize. So I set out for my host family the last week in October. It was a great time. They were happy to see me, I got fattened up by my host mom, got to play with my 4yo host nephew, got to spend quality time with one of my training facilitators, got to harass the new trainees, and chill with my buddy Dave. It felt so great to go back. I felt like an 8th grader strutting through the middle school on the last day of class. I'll always have a home in Baryshivka, and that's something I never expected, especially at the beginning of training.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then we met up with some friends and all got on a train to Kharkiv to meet up with even more volunteers to celebrate Halloween. We partied on the train. We partied at the pre-party on Friday. We partied all day and night on Halloween. It was a blast. Luckily I picked the costume of Sherlock Holmes cause it gave me an excuse to wear an overcoat and a hat as the temperature dramatically dropped from its pleasant 70 degree loftiness. Got to catch up with old friends, make some new ones, and speak a ton of non-broken English. But the event was punctuated by a startling announcement by the Ukrainian Prime Minister: UKRAINE IS COVERED IN SWINE FLU SO SCHOOL IS CANCELLED FOR 3 WEEKS. </div><div><br /></div><div>Most volunteers looked at this news with glee as it meant a spontaneous 4 week vacation for most, as the week before the quarantine had been fall break. I, however, viewed the quarantine with trepidation, knowing all my momentum was about to be destroyed, and I had absolutely nothing to do for 3 weeks. Furthermore, I had a sneaking suspicion that since, at that point, the flu had only just started in the west, by the time quarantine was over, it would move to the east and wreak havoc. So we all set off for home, each contemplating ways to entertain ourselves, giggling a little at all the people wearing white masks.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first week was marked by a cold for me. I went to school to make sure I wasn't supposed to be there, then stayed in bed for the rest of the week just to make sure I didn't invite swine flu into my body. The second week was marked by the breakdown of my computer. My wonderful, trusty college laptop finally gave up the ghost at the worst possible time. Without it I couldn't even listen to music. Well, I could listen to my iPod until it ran out of battery, seeing as I charge my iPod with my computer. But I actually began playing solitaire with REAL cards. I was that bored. I finally broke down after trying for a week to fix it and called home to beg for a new computer. My parents consented and I went a bought a new netbook. Not my favorite computer, but gets the job done for now. And easy to travel with. The third week just sucked. I was soooo bored it finally got to me and I just couldn't get anything done. Thankfully it went by quickly cause I slept through most of it. I learned undeniably throughout that 3 week period that I don't do bored very well. It's crippling for me. Everyone tells me I need to relax and let myself get bored every now and then. Well, all of you who said that, I did it, and it almost killed me! </div><div><br /></div><div>I was able to see friends on the weekends, and even went on a day trip to visit another nearby volunteer who made me pancakes. But the weeks were made even more difficult as most of the activity I take part in during the week is related to schools, meaning zero activity during quarantine. No running, no basketball, no weight room. And starting the week before Halloween, the sun decided to show its face only in hour long intervals once a week, and rarely a day went by without rain. So that made cycling very unappealing, and sleep super appealing. It was a very depressing time.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the inactivity finally came to an end and I went back to school, and slowly dug myself out of my depressive hole. We've been back for two weeks now, and I'm glad to be rid of my neurotic frustrations with boredom. Of course, I have traded them for problems at school, but at least that has something to do with my purpose in being here. I'll go deeper into those problems as they get resolved cause I intend to be objective on such a topic.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the moment I am in my own secluded self quarantine. I was supposed to go to Kiev this weekend but canceled the trip. I'm doped up on Tamiflu and Advil, but seeing light at the end of the tunnel, and for once enjoying my few days off. Got a lot done so far. Just has me wondering, if quarantine for the east had been 3 weeks later, when it would be predicted the flu would get here, would a third of my school be sick, including me? I love panic as political capital.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-25270340634158023392009-10-26T05:27:00.000-07:002009-10-26T06:10:42.158-07:00Places Find YouSo on my way home from school on Friday, after getting out of school early because of the start of fall break, I decided to take a little detour down a road that hat been begging at me for weeks. It was a steep downhill which apparently led to nowhere. What I found blew my mind.<div><br /><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Mp55uKIOdBc0a_Ec9nH_Ew-29LQySQfZNxlamB5bkgaPbxC6kwSdHZddyVyGuugIxXnBhqcdWSE91v9-uDqcr-dgnHLEAwrmaHV8bBc9JcaRFJyktKfnhcfsebodcawUj84lIxzrQ-M/s320/IMG_1562.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396886384062630738" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'd been looking for a place like this, but the industrial mecca that is the Donbas region really made it hard, much harder than when I lived in a small city during training. I just bought a new mountain bike off a volunteer who's finishing up his service. It was awesome branching out from the little dirt road down some trails and bumbling my way around.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkWNI7JUYjQanuhzPq9uVOYW1iahvqKAaelq_uF0B0gUpSRALwVpjz-GY64UiCND2aCV4BhhqSQ0Yh0jWxl0jUUzApImh9E1INnYOX9qYl9bb5WlQYwo2eZT9ZHun2NWQHBQZrL1nbc8/s200/IMG_1560.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396887700150437154" /> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-aqeQsP2pidbzKyqTI_mcWI7vaO21GZA2ZaZbgV3EIq5U6db_XcPqbZlbOjCFzlzvSyuKtFWsnOa0Kb0z_e6a8P6jjgMtoki-pUOVgf7MMXznBf2T4WZp3p-mPbTUKuNsAvDcZJfzKU/s200/IMG_1561.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396895315286425362" /></div><div><br /></div><div>That's right, I now have two bikes, but they have their purposes. Belo is for heavy lifting and commuting, and Artie is for fun and exploring. And if you know me, I need both. Turns out I stumbled upon the somewhat hidden city cemetery. It was absolutely massive. It stretches for acres and acres. And on checking the dates on the headstones, it's relatively new. Now I'm wondering where the old cemetery is and how big it must be. Take note of the picnic tables next to the graves. It's tradition to eat meals with your dead loved ones, especially on a certain religious holiday, of which the name escapes me.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvW0kqh_xM42_9ev1We7mdVuosxFWeqoJv5Oct41bV14A6JIidD_aXi4DEUrfyzG6-F1W8S3CYR6T5CZfghc0nCuB7ON4AIY6UkgsX8Z2juzu0xzfwzp0NGFKsQUkojZEEmnP4dUsL-s/s200/IMG_1569.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396888633968906866" /></div><div><br /></div><div>It was especially poignant since the fading fall sunlight and golden leaves really made the place glow. It's one of those places that leaves it's impression. Even if I never return, it will influence my memories of fall forever. I wasn't there long, but it didn't take much.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kC47liTveYAeOaa_kUl8w8THtGFgSyxYn-_sy-Jpo-idG7KH_-6GC4Sy_E8oF35n_4OJtWwA7DxfTdixeyvhmFGE0S4ihVf_3M8gvroXUsTDHzWMQfCK7gjkyiW_R-rA-ydnjvK5kcs/s200/IMG_1568.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396890011601994994" /> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhxvKAiAb41VRA7tNGFHNs0QeEAYeec7X7xcoz7KMypjK9YO2gjCry75_ady01t3_n8iMC7jwc-BPQfuuY7aYws_ey1a6dHDnDJInU6Dc8O-K2_9_5opLsYXKMDNwtTZf2cNi8yUC5eKU/s200/IMG_1566.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396890004148354082" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Not sure if I would have ever found this most perfect place if it hadn't called me to it. I had no plans to take the trip, and nobody tipped me off about it. And the great thing was, while I was taking photos, sometimes the sun would disappear, making for unfortunately gloomy photos. So I would give up and go a little further, and the sun would pop back out, and the spot I would find myself in would be a better shot. It was like the place was controlling how it wanted to be represented.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQYOU2wjzi7MPrqFck2jJYwlKayObiMUDDFqP3k9tWIQQdH7Ulxm8FdpqhjuiRnyPaDa-4KuxwGhVP-3ktF7rgwKSt-0nYey_oB9jzkwthBs3eAuWCNnhDWRcoEL6IZxL_e4ZLgENmHY/s200/IMG_1572.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396891581887310018" /> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWXQAnGUeXPZHS5IarDy3ZNuMc2NwaHv56VP8GMxQpvEhbK-GNvKaLx7NIEokizwmMpkInZpwRLH4Qs2meJUCIiCxTEBmKHuJIAVmbigNhy_EeLKUQpcM-grpExQN9NAsoShixuqVCyE/s200/IMG_1571.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396891573011355442" /> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_h9W9P6yw8xcblUY0gdWO616hSIFI8QjCWOs-nr-uetDm1bjeVAfZxoLgpoX80BVPKHm_QU00hTt5RK9baBTl7M99OqvQbM48V2E0itItVGSQYutNZ8qYa49_jCP7ocOenDf3rC5ipAY/s200/IMG_1570.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396891575427587538" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Then of course I had to ride one of the steepest hills I've ever been on. Wasn't too long but it was a heart breaker. Can't wait to go back for picnics and just to disappear. So happy it found me.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQFVFLpdP1MzxbUhz3Oc7bIVJZdNY2tYbX6y88E_LK2DlDQRb6XV4VFSysk3GqwgwsufjUGQXP5MOPhsthkscyZ9gXzAAMuE54Dbbz3QM_l2UE1eyLRcs-eqUYXPpNjqQO0m5uoiWs9g/s200/IMG_1574.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396893861167673490" /></div></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-50193304951186394062009-10-20T12:13:00.000-07:002009-10-20T12:45:52.179-07:00Americanski KozakSo the other day I officially became a card carrying member of the Ukrainian Cossacks. Basically, my school's director is a proud Cossack and works hard to instill Cossack heritage into the children at our school. There has been a Cossack representative speak or give gifts at every event I've attended, and there's even a small museum with Cossack artifacts at our school. Every 'homeroom' is named after a Cossack 'hetman' or general.<div><br /></div><div>The occasion for my induction was the Ukrainian holiday for the Day of the Cossacks. My school prepared for almost two weeks for this holiday. Each homeroom had to learn how to march and chant their motto, name, and song. At the ceremony, each class paraded in front of Cossack representatives carrying their flags and reciting their chants. There was singing, competitions, speeches, and so forth, as usual. The difference at this ceremony was the induction of new Cossacks.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the Ukrainian school system, after the 9th grade, students are allowed to choose whether to go to a college prep school or head off to a technical school. Seeing as this year could be the last year many of the 9th graders are at our school, it only made sense that their class be inducted into the Cossacks. They were made to kneel on the blacktop, repeat an oath, kiss a sword and cross, and get sprayed with holy water by an Orthodox priest. After the students' induction, it was my director's wish to have the new teachers get initiated as well. So we did pretty much the same thing, minus the oath but having to kiss the Cossack flag as well. I did so to resounding applause from the students. I was given my id card and certificate proving that I am now somehow a Cossack. The treat they gave the students after the ceremony? Porridge. It was really good.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what is a Cossack you might ask? Basically, Cossacks were bands of 'warriors' who protected the villages of Ukraine in the middle ages. They eventually pledged their loyalty to the Tsar and became his personal protectors. They fought alongside the Russian army in several wars. They have passed into folklore and constitute a major part of the beauty of Ukrainian culture and art. They were disallowed during much of the Soviet Union, but since have resurrected. In some places that act as a parallel police force, or an army reserve. I've seen them guarding churches as they not only protect citizens, but tradition and religion as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been trying to find some analogy to help place the Cossacks in your mind. The closest I've come is a sort of Ukrainian samurai, though maybe a little more friendly and not so hardcore. They simply enjoy vodka and laughing too much to match the samurai in ferocity, though I wouldn't want to be caught dismounted when the Cossack calvary came across me. The state they are in at present is a little weird though. I would somewhat compare them to a rotary or kiwanis club honestly, if those organizations had a military connection. It would kind of be like if the confederates had willingly submitted to and fought alongside the United States Army, then the U.S. Army doublecrossed them, then the U.S. fell apart, and there was no war to fight, and the confederates values were legitimate, that organization would probably be similar to the Cossacks today. Hope you enjoyed that thought experiment, which will not offend you only if you are from the deep South.</div><div><br /></div><div>So my life continues to be interesting, to say the least. My only concern is that I think I might be registered with a legitimate military reserve. If Ukraine, or even just the Cossacks, go to war, not sure where that leaves me. We've been joking that if the Cossacks go to war with America, I'd have to fight against my motherland. Kind of a 'Last Samurai' kind of thing. If they give me a sword I'm down.</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-36159048262179816772009-09-20T08:54:00.001-07:002009-10-13T10:47:58.869-07:00Underqualified and Over-zealousSo I've been putting off posting the past few weeks cause I honestly haven't had anything very interesting to report. I was put in a holding pattern because the school didn't set it's official schedule for four weeks. And then there's the matter of my personal schedule, which is a mystery to everybody. For the past six weeks I have been going to school almost everyday filled with uncertainty as to what I'm supposed to do, and what to do to make that uncertainty go away.<div><br /></div><div>The original plan was for me to go to school every-other-day and work a full day. I would observe different classes to get an idea of how Ukrainian schools work, help English teachers in their lessons, plan sports and English clubs, and most importantly, plan games for the kids during the breaks. Later on it was added that I would open the weight room a few times a week for the older kids. Sounds pretty good, but it's all just a theory.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've more or less accomplished all of the above tasks, but all a little bit different than I imagined, of course. I observed several different subjects, which was very interesting, except my school strictly teaches in Ukrainian. I barely speak Russian and still can't make heads or tails out of Ukrainian, so unfortunately I fell asleep a couple of times during my observations, despite bringing my own work to do. I tried to help the English teachers, and this went more or less to plan, except they also teach the majority of the class in Ukrainian and when given the reins for the class, the teachers often steal them back in Ukrainian as soon as I get started. Then there are my clubs.</div><div><br /></div><div>I started out by putting up posters announcing my English and American Sports clubs with places to sign up. Of course, over 50 kids signed up for each one. Oh well, I thought, at least they know about it, though I only expected a few kids to show up at each. I planned my first English club on a Wednesday. I watched as all the kids streamed past me out of school while I frantically searched for the key to the room I'd been assigned. When I finally got it together, all that was left were three 5th grade girls and a 5th grade boy. So we had English club. I went over introductions and we practiced with each other, and in my opinion, it was pretty successful for 5th graders. </div><div><br /></div><div>After reflecting on who came to the club and how to get others involved, it came to my attention that my school's erratic schedule creates major problems for after school clubs. Looking at the schedule I realized that all the older students still had class while I was holding my club. And all the other kids were flying out of school to catch the bus back to town. I was working hard to remedy this when my assistant director informed me that I would no longer lead clubs after school, but instead would be assigned classes that were free throughout the day. Now, this is not ideal to me, since I feel this will lead to a lack of consistency as the free classes will change throughout the year. And it feels a lot less like a club when students are required to come. And it seriously limits who I get to work with. But the upside is I have a definite time and place to lead my club unaffected by the confusing end of day schedule. And I can still treat it like a club despite the fact it screams 'lesson'. Furthermore, I should have more than four at each club, though 4 is honestly a better number than 25.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sports club has been treated the same way. I now have assigned classes as opposed to willing students after school. But I've been held up by my bike wreck and the Ukrainian postal system. I wanted to first teach kids the wonders of cycling. Unfortunately, the week before my first club I wrecked my bike. I held club anyway but it was rather pointless since I didn't have a bike to demonstrate on or even just ride with the kids. It lasted a whopping 5 minutes. But I was determined to at least make a showing. My next idea was to teach the kids American football with the footballs that had been sent from the States recently. Well, despite being pestered everyday by kids wanting to play, I still have no package after 5 weeks. Luckily, my mom and Diane came to visit bearing frisbees from Half Moon Outfitters. Diane and I taught a group of 6th graders ultimate frisbee which went over rather well. So until I can get a few footballs, the plan is to keep teaching ultimate. And my bike is somewhat fixed so I'm still going to go for rides with the kids after school, though I'm not going to call it club.</div><div><br /></div><div>The games during breaks have been a blast, though they are complete chaos. I have kids screaming and laughing for a blazing 15 minutes. I just teach them camp style games I've learned and play with them. If it's an older group I'll do team building stuff like the 'lap sit' and 'human knot'. Sometimes I'll go to our 'game room' and all the kids will be there, and other times they don't show. So I'm learning to check the schedule first and go grab the right class as soon as the bell rings. Not sure how much these games fit in with Peace Corps goals but I'm sure having fun doing it. Somebody help me rationalize it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Just last week I was told to open the weight room for 9th-11th graders. I took Diane down with me (it's in the basement) and it was hilarious. Immediately shirts came off and new maxes were reached on every apparatus. I didn't realize it but most of the kids down there shouldn't have been, as they were supposed to be in class. A teacher came down yelling at them and drove the delinquent boys out. Luckily I didn't get in trouble.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, they've changed my whole schedule so that I work everyday, but only the second half. This is a little better honestly, as it provides more consistency, especially since the schedule is set to repeat every week, a phenomenon which didn't exist with the previous one. There are two major downsides to this schedule though. First, I have been spending the days I had free working with other schools and organizations, which will be greatly marginalized since I only have a few hours in the morning to do such work now. Second, I will be dependent on my bike to get to school since the last bus going to school leaves at 7:30 am. My bike has proven itself rather untrustworthy. Otherwise I'll have to take a taxi which will get expensive if I have to do it everyday, which is possible in the depths of winter. We'll see how this works for now.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately I often find myself improvising in situations I'm not so qualified to be in. I wish I knew better how to teach English, how to organize a workout, the finer points of healthy lifestyles. Instead I'm making it all up as I go, which makes me question my effectiveness. And it's hard enough to gain credibility without speaking the language. It kicks up a notch when you look like you have no idea what your doing, because you don't. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I'm still idealistic and uncompromising like always. I'm taking the cards that are continually being dealt and doing the best I can with them. And like in poker, bluffing can be the road to success.</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-52014955077176571482009-09-20T08:26:00.000-07:002009-09-21T12:39:44.811-07:00Meet Belo!So Belo wins! Alright, the name comes from a shortened form of the street I live on named Belousova. Basically it's a mean hill with trolley tracks and tons of potholes which make it impossible to get any momentum going. And I have to ride some portion of this hill to go anywhere. Luckily I live halfway up it. I like the name too because Belo means handsome man I believe in Portuguese, and it's close to 'Velo' or French for bicycle, and also the beginning of the word for bike in Russian, 'velosiped'. And the Russian letter for 'V' is a B, so an ignorant American would pronounce it Belo instead of Velo if written in Russian. So the name hits many different levels, if you use a lot of imagination. Plus, it was the name of the emcee at the last circus I went to, and that can't help but bring back good memories (Steph, I belobrate a little everyday!) Furthermore, Belousova Street has claimed Belo for the time being as I had a crash going down the hill trying to cross the trolley tracks. After I myself am repaired I will set to fixing up my beloved though hateful Belo.<div><br /></div><div>The other name in question was after my favorite street to ride in town which follows a ridgeline, and is named after the local communist hero, Artyom. So there was good reason for that name as well, though I think Belo fits more perfectly. For those of you interested, here is the list of names of my other bikes you may have met:</div><div><br /></div><div>Ginny- the handpainted green single-speed Kmart bike</div><div>Lump- the goofy frankenstein blue and silver Del Sol</div><div>Cliff- the new black carbon fiber Jamis</div><div><br /></div><div>Comment with your guesses as to the origins of these names!</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-42331274596801279782009-09-04T06:44:00.000-07:002009-09-04T06:58:46.620-07:00The story of (insert bike's name here)<p class="MsoNormal">I had the initial tune up done on my bike by my counterpart’s father.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course he did all the work and I didn’t get to touch it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then on my way to the train station one day my rear wheel fell apart to the point that I melted the hub from the friction of the disjointed parts.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then I drug my bike back to my apartment and wore a hole in the tire since the back wheel wouldn’t role. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I bought a new wheel without a coaster brake hub, an 8 speed freewheel since I couldn’t find a single at the time, a set of caliper brakes, and new pedals.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course to start with I didn’t even have a screwdriver to take off the original wheel.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then I needed to drill holes to attach the new brakes, but didn’t have a drill.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then I couldn’t get the new pedals to fit.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Well, I got the left one to fit, but the right one wouldn’t budge.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I called the handicrafts teacher at school who has already done a ton of work on my apartment, and the next day he brought over a drill and some other tools.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Tried out the new wheel but the axle was too wide.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we took off a spacer, manhandled the frame and got it to fit.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then we drilled the frame and got the brakes installed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So far so good, except I still couldn’t get the right pedal on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So he told me to come to his parents’ house the next day and we would try to rethread the crank.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I went over and we worked on it with no luck.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In the meantime, he handed me a tin of grease and told me if I didn’t grease and adjust all the bearings we would just have to go through all of this again.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Didn’t have to tell me twice.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I spent the next several hours figuring out how to take apart my bike without a stand or the proper tools.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At one point we technically made a tool. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And I used several odd combinations of tools to get the job done, including a chisel and ball peen hammer to tighten a lock ring.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Mike Goodman’s words repeated in my head, “any mechanic can work on a good bike.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The poor bikes separate the men from the boys.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know I’m not there yet, but this bike is putting me on the fast track to being able to fix anything. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It felt so good to have blackened hands and busted knuckles again.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know my bike now; every bearing has been inspected, packed with grease, and adjusted by my hands; I found the new nut to tighten the seat back to the springs; I tied the brake housing to the frame with a cut up rubber band; I decided where I wanted the brake levers; I know how we rethreaded the bolt on the right pedal so it would fit; I chose the drop bars and angled them perfectly.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>All this to Ukrainians’ dismay, as it just really isn’t proper to do what I’ve done to a bike. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I feel like I don’t have to fight my bike anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I wanted my own bike; a little piece of me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have that now, and relish the independence it brings.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If it breaks, I know it’s my fault, and I welcome the challenge to fix it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Here’s me asserting my control.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s really kind of sad that I place so much significance on two wheels.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But if I can keep control over this one thing, then maybe I can deal with the lack of control on the rest of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So now I’m off to tighten the bottom bracket that comes loose every couple of days since I don’t have the right tools to tighten it, and I’ll probably have to tighten the headset again at some point this weekend…</p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-79212545283310042132009-09-02T11:05:00.001-07:002009-09-02T11:08:37.568-07:00Americana in Donetska<p class="MsoNormal">Last Friday I got a text message from my friend Maxim inviting me to the opening ceremony of the new, state of the art Donbass Arena built in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had heard rumors of the show planned to christen it, including the supposed appearance of either Beyonce or Madonna.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So I cancelled the other plans I had made and got excited for a show that was purported to be on the scale of an Olympic opening ceremony.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The show was set to begin at 8pm, and we were planning to leave at 6pm.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Now, my UGA, Saturday in <st1:city st="on">Athens</st1:city> mind was a little uncomfortable with this schedule, considering we live an hour’s drive from <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But we arrived in <st1:city st="on">Donetsk</st1:city> at 7, parked in one of those lots that only a person from <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city> would know about, walked at the appropriate pace while eating sunflower seeds, squeezed through the gates, and arrived at our seats precisely at 8.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Needless to say I was impressed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The stadium is an international affair.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The signage around the building is bilingual, English and Russian.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course, a modern stadium being the American invention that it is, most of the words are simply transliterated, as English words such as ‘arena’ and ‘grand show’ have made their way into the Russian language.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The PA announcements were in Russian and British English, which made me grin at times.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I can’t decide who butchers the language more, Brits or Southerners.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The background music was mundane American ‘80s music.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The show also was polluted with English globalization.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The opening number was Queen’s ‘We will rock you’ capped off with ‘We are the champions’.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Beyonce of course sang in English, but it was painful to watch her feeble attempts to interact with a Russian speaking Ukrainian crowd with no translation the same as she would a crowd of teenage girls in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Atlanta</st1:place></st1:city>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Needless to say there were some awkward silent moments that were almost as painful as watching an overconfident opening act at the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Georgia</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Theater</st1:placename></st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The crowd was dressed in their glamorous post Soviet style.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not uncommon was the leopard print evening gown, and it was a different experience hearing the deafening click of stiletto heels on the concrete stairs of the stadium.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The crowd was not left wanting as pop singers danced on the emblematic coal bins representing the entire premise behind the stadium, mining, the region’s strongest industry.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Dima Bilan, winner of Eurovision put on a rather powerful performance simply standing in the middle of the pitch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was pretty awesome to see a guy command an audience without the prop of a stage and distracting pyro.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Still not sure if he was actually singing or using a backtrack, but at times that verdict was still out for Beyonce. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The major parties in the Ukrainian government took full advantage of the internationally viewed spectacle, constantly remarking that <st1:country-region st="on">Ukraine</st1:country-region> had achieved the best stadium in <st1:place st="on">Europe</st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And from what I saw they very well could be right.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There were moments reminiscent of Bush getting booed at major public events on national television towards the end of his tenure as President.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But the polite Ukrainian crowd spared their president’s dignity as they gave him a rather modest, but void of boos, round of applause as he was introduced, despite his single digit approval ratings.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>However, Yuschenko was rather overshadowed as his rival and probable winner of the upcoming January election Yanukovich received deafening applause before giving his speech in the center of the pitch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of note was the fact that Yuschenko addressed the crowd in Ukrainian and Yanukovich spoke Russian, but with a heavy Ukrainian dialect. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was a little upset with myself at how much I enjoyed the Beyonce concert.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You gotta hand it to the girl, she’s hot, got a ridiculous voice, and 10 years of music I’ve danced to.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was displeased that I couldn’t get one of her songs out of my head as we walked to McDonald’s after the show, which lasted 3 hours with the full Beyonce concert.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So Anna and I sang the Alexander Rybok Eurovision winning tune ‘Fairytale’ which quickly displaced Beyonce.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You have to hear the song to understand.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All this combined for a kind of weird experience.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I would have never paid a dime to see Beyonce in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see my compatriot in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ukraine</st1:place></st1:country-region> as the country asserted its presence on the global stage.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But it was strange to see how much that assertion came at the expense of American and British influence.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ukraine</st1:place></st1:country-region> has showed, with time, it’s well poised to compete with the best of them for its place in the international spotlight. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, enough with all the pageantry, I’m ready to watch Shaktar win one for the home crowd.</p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-8952920496100579972009-08-31T11:41:00.000-07:002009-08-31T11:43:51.602-07:00Calm before the storm, hopefully, I really want a storm<p class="MsoNormal">Alright, here’s the quick lowdown on what’s been up since I finished camp.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I came back from camp totally wiped.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I slept for pretty much two days, and then did my best not to do anything for the next week so I could get over what at that point was a two week long cold that was getting worse.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course, I tried to do nothing, but my counterpart had other ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She wants me to make ‘friends’, so I got a text on the first full day I was home telling me one of her teacher friends was waiting for me so we could go for a walk.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Well, realizing my need for friends I complied and went to meet a rather attractive girl from <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region> who’s my age.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We had a good walk and she showed me pictures on her camera of the runway modeling gig she had in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Norway</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then she invited me to the salt lakes with her the next week.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So we went and had a really nice time, despite the awkward language barrier.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was shaping up to be a good ‘friendship’ but she was only in town for a couple of weeks before she headed off to Crimea, then on to Russia where she lives with polar bears.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The day she left, and only when asked who she was traveling with, she informed me she had a boyfriend. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next week I went back to my stomping grounds of Svatagorsk and observed a Peace Corps run camp.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was run solely by volunteers on the theme of HIV/AIDS prevention.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It felt good to be back where I had spent the last three weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Despite the exhaustion and sickness, I have tons of great memories of that city.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Got to meet several volunteers and actually speak English with Americans, which was amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I felt a little awkward not having any official role at the camp so I did my best to find odd jobs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Left the camp early because it was made aware to me that I had been given a ‘study’ at my school and it needed to be cleaned before Monday, when the state was to come and inspect our school.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was a little nervous since I’d heard teachers refer to their classrooms as studies, which made me think I might have to prepare an entire classroom before Monday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Turned out just to be a small office with a desk and a couple of closets.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Awesome!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This means I have a place to go prepare lessons, somewhere to keep my bike, a place to change clothes after riding to school, and a place to invite teachers to have tea.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I really am lucky to have an office. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Since my ‘study’ preparation only took an hour, I was free to go to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Kiev</st1:place></st1:city> that weekend and meet up with my cluster from training.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We rented an apartment and just chilled for Saturday and Sunday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was great seeing them again and getting to speak more English with natives.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We spent Saturday evening just people-watching on the main boulevard soaking in the last bits of summer.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was so relaxing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I also loaded up on some souvenirs for my family and got some more movies, music, and shows on my hard drive. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Came back home and started trying to get the last few settling in tasks accomplished.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Managed to get a usb modem with internet service from a mobile carrier.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So I pretty much spent the next few days updating everything on my computer, reconnecting with as many people as possible and catching up on the news.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I got all this set up through a friend, Anna, I had met at one of the graduations I went to earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She and her husband, Maxim, are pretty health conscious and like to run, so Maxim showed me a good quiet track they typically run on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It felt good to get back to exercising, and we’re going to try to run twice a week from now on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Maxim was heading to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city> on business on Tuesday so he invited me to go with him so I could shop for bike parts.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were successful and I got my first taste of <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city>, a perfectly sized city that is the center of the region I live in. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next day I went back to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Donetsk</st1:place></st1:city> to meet with a couple of volunteers I had met at the camp the week before.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Went shopping and found some deals on a basketball and shoes, got a webcam, and found the freewheel which I was wanting for my bike. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I spent the next weekend working on my bike.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Seriously, I spent almost every hour of daylight working on my bike or being entertained by the people gracious enough to let me use their tools.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was as if their fee for their time and tools was for me to come have lunch or supper and do them the honor of visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It really almost made me feel guilty.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But Ukrainians always put you in a position to be nothing but rude if you refuse.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They’re crafty these people. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">After getting my bike in order, skype set up, a new toilet seat, reminding myself I’m American, getting my phone to actually connect to my computer, eating the box of oreos and cooking with the Italian dressing my nana sent, and thoroughly cleaning my bathroom, I felt accomplished, though none of these things had anything to do with my job or Peace Corps.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I started feeling pretty slackerish. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hadn’t talked to Peace Corps or my school in over a week, and was starting to wonder what was up, especially since at this point the first day of school was only a week away.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I called my counterpart and we worked up a speech for me to give at the county-wide teacher’s conference on that Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I took care of some documents Peace Corps needed with my Russian tutor on Wednesday.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then on Thursday I gave my speech, which was rather humorous since at one point the crowd thought I said ‘toys’ instead of ‘clubs’, when I really said neither.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They laughed, I laughed, I told them I’d only been speaking Russian for 4 months, they gave their support, and all was well.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My director gave me the flowers some students gave him, so I win. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Afterwards a reporter interviewed me for the paper, and turns out he’s been a counterpart for Peace Corps in the past, and works with a major environmental organization.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Networking is so easy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The best part about this guy is he organizes a bike race every year.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I missed it by a week. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Disappointing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After the meeting my Russian tutor informed me I was to introduce myself at a meeting of all the foreign language teachers the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This went a little better since 90% of these teachers could understand me in English.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They gave me chocolate, I win again. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m feeling better now that I’ve reconnected with the school and had a conversation with my regional manager.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Everyone seems pleased with me at the moment, which is all I can ask for.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was stressing about not having my lessons planned out, but when I questioned the person in charge of scheduling what to expect, she said the schedule wouldn’t be ready until after the first week of school.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So I’m just outlining my lessons for now until I know what ages I’m teaching so I can choose the appropriate topics and activities.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I don’t feel as much of a slacker if my school doesn’t plan any farther ahead than me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This past weekend I was invited to the ‘grand show’ at the opening of Donbass Arena in <st1:city st="on">Donetsk</st1:city>, the “best arena in <st1:place st="on">Europe</st1:place>” according to President Yuschenko.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At this point if you’re still reading, thank you.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m going to cut it off here and add a couple of posts over the next couple of days of the stories that I couldn’t go too in-depth in this post.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sorry for just recounting events and focusing much about impressions.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I expect my posts to become more about thoughts and feelings once my schedule becomes a little more monotonous.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And sorry, but I’m writing this blog partly as my journal to keep up with my doings in Peace Corps, not just to entertain you <span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-hansi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-char-type:symbol; mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings">J</span></span>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So be looking for a couple more posts this week.</p>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-41538603169722962522009-08-25T12:44:00.000-07:002009-08-25T12:48:49.602-07:00This might shed a little light on what I'm doingHere's the transcript of the speech I'm about to give to a conference of teachers from the 13+ schools in my city this Thursday. Unfortunately it got translated into Russian and doesn't say half of this, but I didn't write it for nothing, so I'm posting it here for you guys to get the short and sweet version of what Peace Corps expects me to do here.<div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"></b></p><span><span>Speech to Konstantinovka Schools Conference 25/8/2009 </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>Let me begin by telling you a little about myself. I am from America, the city of Atlanta in the state Georgia. I finished university and have a bachelor’s degree in Sociology. After university I wanted to live in another country, help children, and study the Russian language. Therefore, I joined Peace Corps. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>Peace Corps is a governmental organization which is non-political and non-religious. There are three objectives for Peace Corps: to help people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women, to help promote better understanding of Americans in these countries, and to help promote better understanding of other countries to Americans. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>My project is called Youth Development. There are 7 focus areas for my project: 1. Developing Employment Skills 2. Teaching Entrepreneurship Skills 3. Teaching Information Technology Skills 4. Teaching Healthy Lifestyles 5. Developing Citizenship Skills 6. Building Environmental Awareness 7. Recreation. As a Youth Development volunteer I will teach at the Novodmitrovka Lyceum about topics within the focus areas of youth development, and I will also coordinate extracurricular activities that correspond to these focus areas. I will also help English teachers during classes as a native speaker is a valuable resource. In the summers I will plan camps for students which focus on Youth Development areas and I will offer students the opportunity to attend other Peace Corps facilitated camps. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span><span>Beyond helping students I would also like to educate and train teachers in the topics I teach within Youth Development focus areas. This way my project will continue after I leave in 2 years. I would also like to involve parents in any way possible to reinforce the information I provide students at school. My primary site is Novodmitrovka Lyceum, but I am open to working with the community and partnering with other organizations to serve as many children in Konstantinovka as possible. I look forward to an exciting two years and building wonderful relationships that will last a lifetime. If you have any questions feel free to ask, and I am open to any suggestions. Thank you.</span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"></p></div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-8229846994246028042009-08-21T06:02:00.000-07:002009-08-21T13:16:46.098-07:00CampBack to the story of my experience at a Ukrainian camp. So after all the chaos of arriving at the camp had settled, I sat down to a cup of tea. I attempted to negotiate my job at the camp, and suggested I lead an English club. They didn't think this was such a good idea as none of the kids speak good enough English. Thus the purpose of an English club, but whatever. So they said they'd think about it and I would talk to the director later.<div><br /></div><div>In the meantime I was directed to a cabin where some people were frantically cleaning and decorating. I had arrived in between sessions and these were counselors preparing their cabins for the next set of campers. I helped them decorate, which was hilarious, me being so craftsy and creative and all. I left to go to the bathroom around lunchtime and got caught by a crew of the senior staff. They sat me down and made eat a huge lunch and gave me the 3rd degree about what I was doing in Ukraine, and furthermore what I was doing at their camp. Further negotiations ensued over my job description, but nothing more concrete resulted. I returned to my cabin an hour later than the 10min I predicted, and was met with exhausted eyes and irritation. Of course they knew where I'd been while they continued to slave away at their daunting task. This came to be a running theme for my tenure at camp: every little circle wanted me to join, but I kept getting caught in the middle making more or less everyone mad. It became rather uncomfortable at times, except for the times I could play one clique against another for my own purposes.</div><div><br /></div><div>The camp was a privatized remnant of a former Soviet children's rest camp. What that means is imagine a typical traditional American kids' summer camp, and that's what this was. For those of you who worked at Kanakuk, you'd feel right at home. The layout of the camp is just what you'd imagine: cabins sprinkled around a lake with a mess hall opening out onto a parade like square with flagpoles, a barn-like auditorium, crafts-rooms, soccer field, basketball court, pool, infirmary, etc. There were 400 kids and a ratio one counselor to 20 kids. You do the math, this was a huge camp, and the staff was overrun. Wakeup was at 8am, breakfast at 9, clean the cabins till 10, activities till lunch at 1pm, nap from 2-4, snack after lunch, usually loaded with sugar, activities till supper at 6, then either a party or disco from 8 till 10:30, snack then bed at 11. There were the typical 'olympic' style competitions with sports and crafts, there were performances almost every-other day, there were excursions to the monastery in the city, etc. So there was the semblance of keeping campers busy, but their days were still filled with loads of downtime. They got downright bored. Each session lasting 3 weeks made it hard to keep kids entertained.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was decided that I would float throughout the cabins, help the counselors and play games with the kids, singling out the English speaking kids, if I found them, to give them a little tutoring. I worked my way through all 10 cabins, working with an age range from 4 yrs to 17 yrs. It was really brilliant to be so involved in every age at once and to see the changes maturity brings. I thought I would find my favorite age, but I loved them all, which really surprised me. I felt reasonably successfull with all of them. Each day I more or less acted as a counselor, without the responsibility of a counselor, which was great. None of the kids would listen to me since I wasn't their counselor, so all I could do was entertain. I taught them as many games from camps I could remember, played a good bit of soccer, and taught them basketball and frisbee, with a rather failed attempt at playing ultimate. One evening, they set up stations throughout the camp for the kids to rotate through, and I was in charge of a station, which of course was focused on 'American' games. I taught games from ring around the rosie to making the upper cabins do the human knot. I worked with 400 kids in one hour that night.</div><div><br /></div><div>The crazy part of camp was the parties and performances. Whichever cabin I happened to be embedded in for the day would typically give me some role in their performance for the night. I played characters like a crazy inventor and a bumblebee, depending on the theme of the night. And usually the counselors would choreograph a dance which I would stumble my way through. One night the theme was 'country dance'. So I brought out my best line dancing moves and taught the counselor I was working with the two-step. Somehow, it became my job to choreograph and perform a country dance to Chattahoochee by Alan Jackson. It was a huge hit. Too big actually, cause the director of events asked me to choreograph a similar dance for all the counselors on the last night. We worked our tails off, rehearsing until 2 in the morning the last few nights of camp, but we pulled off a pretty elaborate and amazing performance, capped off by me solo dancing a traditional cossack dance. It was an absolute blast.</div><div><br /></div><div>I only floated through the cabins for the first two weeks. During that time I did remain consistent with a cabin of middle schoolers by eating all my meals with them. I became a revolutionary when I actually sat with the kids instead of the other counselors. It was so funny to hear the kids begging me each day to sit at their table, and the looks of utter disappointment if I sat at a different table. I was excited to see another counselor follow suit in another cabin. It was breaking down the barrier between counselor and camper that so strongly existed at this camp that brought the most appreciation from the camp director.</div><div><br /></div><div>After the first two weeks, I moved into a cabin permanently. The kids were aged 8-15 in this one cabin, which was why I chose it; the counselors really needed some help. So I tried my hand at disciplining kids in Russian and entertaing them long after the newness of being an American had worn off. At this point I was worn out. I got a bad cold in the middle of the second week, and despite taking a couple of rest days out by a beautiful river, found myself greatly deprived of rest. The mental stress didn't help either as I was the only American at the camp and could only struggle through English with the couple of counselors who had studied it in school. For the most part my whole day was spent speaking and listening to Russian from 8am to 2am. It was great for the first week because I could feel my Russian improve significantly. But after that I just became fatigued and fended off conversation like a boxer against the ropes avoids blows. But I made it through, got home and slept for two days.</div><div><br /></div><div>Camp was an incredible experience that I feel really set me up for successfull service for the next 2 years. For one thing, I met loads of awesome people from my town that I will be friends with once they finally get back from camp. I met a potential counterpart at one of my partner organizations. In terms of networking, it was a huge success. For another thing, I gained valuable insight as to how Ukrainians do camp and what they expect. Alot of volunteers get to experience Ukrainian summer camp, but few stay for an entire session, so I feel like I have alot to bring to the table for Peace Corps run camps. And finally, I got to do what I came here for, which was pour into kids. As usual I'm not sure what I accomplished, but I poured every ounce I had into those kids. I tried to love them as much as I could despite the language and cultural barriers. I didn't teach them anything official, but I hope I still taught. I'll never know what I imparted, but time will tell.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life has been a bit of a blur since camp. I'll try to catch you up on my intrigues since then soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>Peace</div>Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-67550710343756419022009-08-09T08:25:00.000-07:002009-08-09T08:54:15.651-07:00ControlSo Ukraine has it out for me to teach me about dealing with control. If you know me well enough, you know that pretty much nothing happens in my life unless I let it happen, and I get a little freaked out when I feel like my grip is loosening. I know it appears on the outside that I live pretty loose and carefree, but just take my word for it, it's organized chaos.<br /><br />Four weeks ago, on a Monday, I am talking with my counterpart and she nonschalantly drops the hint that my director wants me to go to a rest camp. That's all she said, and so I figured I'd let that one play itself out when the time comes. I was happily getting into a routine and setting up shop in my new apartment. No need to complicate things. The next day, I'm meeting with my Russian tutor who also works at my school, and she tells me I'm to go to the rest camp until the end of August. At this point I realize I might be screwed. <br /><br />So after prying from my counterpart that a rest camp is actually a children's camp that I would really be expected to work at, I ask for more details. She did not have more details, she would call me later that day and let me know. When she did call me, she informed me that I would be leaving on Thursday and I needed to pack my things so I could go raise children at this camp until the end of August. When I asked her for more information she had none. So the next day I tried one more time to get complete information, and nothing worked. <br /><br />I didn't know where I was going, what I was going to be doing, what to pack, how long exactly I would be there, how I would get there, nothing. So I buckled and called my regional manager. He calls and gets more information out of my director, and attempts to negotiate a shorter stay, and a more definite job description. When he calls me back he is a little flustered. Apparently my director cannot understand why I wouldn't want to stay so long since it's such an amazing camp. But my regional manager asked me one more time if I thought two weeks was a better time frame, regained his resolve and made another attempt on my director. <br /><br />In the meantime, on Thursday, I got a call from my counterpart telling me to be at the train station on Friday morning. I packed my big backpack with as much teaching material as I could fit, took a general selection of clothing, my frisbee, and med kit. Not knowing where negotiations stood at that point, I boarded a train and headed off to camp with the assistant director of my school. When I arrived at camp I was warmly welcomed and was given a document to sign. In my best attempt at Russian I deciphered that I was signing a paper defining the length of my stay at 2 weeks. I quickly signed and then began the process of figuring out exactly what I was supposed to be doing at this camp. I later get a call from my regional manager who is still flustered and tells me he still hasn't finalized anything with my director, but to go ahead and head to camp and we'll work it out later. To his surprise I inform him that I'm already there and have signed a document agreeing to our demands. He gives his blessing and wishes me a happy two weeks.<br /><br />I wish you could have read my mind through that entire process. I had just reigned in all the confusion and complication involved with moving to a new apartment, in a new city, in a foreign country. The next two months were set. I was happy, comfortable, feeling accomplished. Then out of the blue I was told to uproot and head off into the unknown. I seriously about freaked out. Especially when I couldn't get solid information, and felt like I had no say in the matter. But as you will see in the next installment of my blog, this was about to be one of the best things that could happen to a newly initiated Peace Corps Volunteer.Ben Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-10987799546238353882009-07-09T07:32:00.000-07:002009-07-09T08:26:00.392-07:00OutageHey guys, might be some silence here for the next couple of weeks. I'm being sent to a kids' "rest camp" to help "raise" the children who are there. I think that means I'm leading English camps and games. And I think I get to go because there are like 4 kids from my school who are there. Anyways, I have no clue where this thing is or what awaits in terms of communication, so wanted to let you know I'm alive and well fixing up my apartment and damage controlling the decisions my superiors make for me. But I'm pretty pumped to have something remotely productive to do for the next two weeks.<br /><br />In other news, I now have a bike, though it's not up to my standards, yet. I just got back from a trip to a salt lake, which surprisingly to me was super salty. Duct tape works miracles in Ukraine as it now pretty much holds my apartment together. Also got a schedule worked out for my first semester which is pretty much the requisite English, healthy lifestyles, and leadership teaching, but add to that a cycling club! Yep, I'm gonna try to teach these kids how to do basic maintainence on their bikes and then teach bike safety on short group rides. It could potentially be amazing or be a disaster, just the way I like it.<br /><br />My mail works amazingly fast especially for letters and bubble mailers, so let me know and I'll email you my address. Not really into posting my address on the blog since who knows who might try to come find me. Hey, if you send something now, it will get here right when I get back from camp!<br /><br />Hopefully I'll have some good stories to tell next time I post!<br /><br />BenBen Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4745829944691054375.post-40047725501088167872009-07-01T08:14:00.000-07:002009-07-01T08:49:05.247-07:00Settling InAlright, so much to say. Sorry for radio silence the past couple weeks. Got to Kiev for Swearing In Conference and was nowhere near internet. Then got to my site and the internet club is constantly swamped with little hooligans playing WOW and Counter Strike. And then I can't help from indulging myself with some gchat and cnn. So I finally write. That said, email me and I'll give you my new address so you can send me letters and now packages!<br /><br />So Swearing In Conference was where Peace Corps Ukraine wrapped up training with a ton of seminars on how to be the perfect volunteer and I met my counterpart. Now, a counterpart is a person involved in an organization which invites you to serve as volunteer for two years. They are Ukrainian and work with the volunteer to plan projects and serve effectively. Mine just happens to be a woman near my age who teaches English at the school which will be my primary site. Yes, this means she speaks English! She is super helpful and we are already good friends. Plus she is getting married this fall which means that's just one more party I get to go to. After the conference we loaded my stuff into a train car and embarked on a 19 hour journey to my new city.<br /><br />My site is a rather large city in southeastern Ukraine. It's a Russian speaking industrial city with something like 100,000 people. I would probably compare it to Dalton, but without the carpet. Unfortunately there is a cookie factory near where I live which makes the place smell like chocolate chip cookies all the time. And there are none to be found in stores. Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink. My school is called a lycaeum, which to the best of what I can figure out means it is partly funded by the city and partly funded by sponsors, aka huge factories. So it is a pretty nice school. It is actually outside my city in a very small village. Less than 300 people live in my school's village, which means there are way more spots at the school than there are children. That means children from throughout the big city can apply to come to my school. And if they don't perform well enough they can be kicked out. So it's kind of like a private school in that way.<br /><br />I'm living in a private, one room apartment, meaning I have a kitchen, bathroom, and living room/bedroom. The coolest part is the balcony. It feels great to be living on my own again, but I miss the good life with my host family. I have to cook constantly and don't have half the conveniences their apartment had. Plus, it's really quiet. So what have I been doing to stay busy?<br /><br />Well, I've been around the school alot, attending meetings and graduations and helping teachers clean their rooms. Several people have been checking in on me, even cooking for me and doing my laundry. There is a mindset here that a bachelor living on his own will surely starve. But I made sure that nobody has cooked "for" me, but has taught me to cook. Hopefully I will prove myself to them eventually. Graduation was nuts. It's like a combination of American prom and graduation that lasts until sunrise. I'd go into details but that's a whole nother post. There was also a graduation for 9th grade since they have the opportunity to pursue other educational opportunities at this point at other institutions. Of course I had to give speeches at both. Luckily my English teacher translated for me. I was also taken to an awesome lake (or pond, depending on your standards for stagnant bodies of water) where we had a picnic and drank out of a natural spring. I went with the head of my school's equivalent of the PTA and her sons, so it was actually productive in terms of my project. I've been able to meet quite a few students, including the one who is my neighbor. My neighbors are great and I see them everywhere, so it feels good to have them looking out for me. Otherwise I've been exploring my new city and watching a ton of movies. <br /><br />I can't believe I've only been here a week. I have to keep pinching myself and remind myself Rome wasn't built in two years, much less a week. There are lots of cool things to tell but I think they will each have their opportunity to appear in a post soon. Alright, I know there's not many details, but that's pretty much the past two weeks. If there's something you really want to know comment or email me and I'll indulge you. Here's to hoping my tv will pick up the Tour de France!<br /><br />Peace,<br />BenBen Robbinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02761205254424694728noreply@blogger.com1