Places Find You

So 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Americanski Kozak

So 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Underqualified and Over-zealous

So 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Meet 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.

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:

Ginny- the handpainted green single-speed Kmart bike

Lump- the goofy frankenstein blue and silver Del Sol

Cliff- the new black carbon fiber Jamis

Comment with your guesses as to the origins of these names!

The story of (insert bike's name here)

I had the initial tune up done on my bike by my counterpart’s father. Of course he did all the work and I didn’t get to touch it. 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. Then I drug my bike back to my apartment and wore a hole in the tire since the back wheel wouldn’t role.

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. Of course to start with I didn’t even have a screwdriver to take off the original wheel. Then I needed to drill holes to attach the new brakes, but didn’t have a drill. Then I couldn’t get the new pedals to fit. Well, I got the left one to fit, but the right one wouldn’t budge.

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. Tried out the new wheel but the axle was too wide. So we took off a spacer, manhandled the frame and got it to fit. Then we drilled the frame and got the brakes installed. So far so good, except I still couldn’t get the right pedal on.

So he told me to come to his parents’ house the next day and we would try to rethread the crank. I went over and we worked on it with no luck. 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. Didn’t have to tell me twice.

So I spent the next several hours figuring out how to take apart my bike without a stand or the proper tools. At one point we technically made a tool. 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. Mike Goodman’s words repeated in my head, “any mechanic can work on a good bike. The poor bikes separate the men from the boys.” I know I’m not there yet, but this bike is putting me on the fast track to being able to fix anything.

It felt so good to have blackened hands and busted knuckles again. 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. All this to Ukrainians’ dismay, as it just really isn’t proper to do what I’ve done to a bike.

I feel like I don’t have to fight my bike anymore. I wanted my own bike; a little piece of me. I have that now, and relish the independence it brings. If it breaks, I know it’s my fault, and I welcome the challenge to fix it. Here’s me asserting my control. It’s really kind of sad that I place so much significance on two wheels. 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. 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…

Americana in Donetska

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 Donetsk. I had heard rumors of the show planned to christen it, including the supposed appearance of either Beyonce or Madonna. 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.

The show was set to begin at 8pm, and we were planning to leave at 6pm. Now, my UGA, Saturday in Athens mind was a little uncomfortable with this schedule, considering we live an hour’s drive from Donetsk. But we arrived in Donetsk at 7, parked in one of those lots that only a person from Donetsk would know about, walked at the appropriate pace while eating sunflower seeds, squeezed through the gates, and arrived at our seats precisely at 8. Needless to say I was impressed.

The stadium is an international affair. The signage around the building is bilingual, English and Russian. 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. The PA announcements were in Russian and British English, which made me grin at times. I can’t decide who butchers the language more, Brits or Southerners. The background music was mundane American ‘80s music.

The show also was polluted with English globalization. The opening number was Queen’s ‘We will rock you’ capped off with ‘We are the champions’. 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 Atlanta. Needless to say there were some awkward silent moments that were almost as painful as watching an overconfident opening act at the Georgia Theater.

The crowd was dressed in their glamorous post Soviet style. 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. 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. Dima Bilan, winner of Eurovision put on a rather powerful performance simply standing in the middle of the pitch. It was pretty awesome to see a guy command an audience without the prop of a stage and distracting pyro. Still not sure if he was actually singing or using a backtrack, but at times that verdict was still out for Beyonce.

The major parties in the Ukrainian government took full advantage of the internationally viewed spectacle, constantly remarking that Ukraine had achieved the best stadium in Europe. And from what I saw they very well could be right. There were moments reminiscent of Bush getting booed at major public events on national television towards the end of his tenure as President. 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. 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. Of note was the fact that Yuschenko addressed the crowd in Ukrainian and Yanukovich spoke Russian, but with a heavy Ukrainian dialect.

I was a little upset with myself at how much I enjoyed the Beyonce concert. You gotta hand it to the girl, she’s hot, got a ridiculous voice, and 10 years of music I’ve danced to. 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. So Anna and I sang the Alexander Rybok Eurovision winning tune ‘Fairytale’ which quickly displaced Beyonce. You have to hear the song to understand.

All this combined for a kind of weird experience. I would have never paid a dime to see Beyonce in America. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see my compatriot in Ukraine as the country asserted its presence on the global stage. But it was strange to see how much that assertion came at the expense of American and British influence. But Ukraine has showed, with time, it’s well poised to compete with the best of them for its place in the international spotlight.

Well, enough with all the pageantry, I’m ready to watch Shaktar win one for the home crowd.

Calm before the storm, hopefully, I really want a storm

Alright, here’s the quick lowdown on what’s been up since I finished camp. I came back from camp totally wiped. 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. Of course, I tried to do nothing, but my counterpart had other ideas. 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. Well, realizing my need for friends I complied and went to meet a rather attractive girl from Russia who’s my age. We had a good walk and she showed me pictures on her camera of the runway modeling gig she had in Norway. Then she invited me to the salt lakes with her the next week. So we went and had a really nice time, despite the awkward language barrier. 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. The day she left, and only when asked who she was traveling with, she informed me she had a boyfriend.

The next week I went back to my stomping grounds of Svatagorsk and observed a Peace Corps run camp. It was run solely by volunteers on the theme of HIV/AIDS prevention. It felt good to be back where I had spent the last three weeks. Despite the exhaustion and sickness, I have tons of great memories of that city. Got to meet several volunteers and actually speak English with Americans, which was amazing. I felt a little awkward not having any official role at the camp so I did my best to find odd jobs.

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. 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. Turned out just to be a small office with a desk and a couple of closets. Awesome! 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. I really am lucky to have an office.

Since my ‘study’ preparation only took an hour, I was free to go to Kiev that weekend and meet up with my cluster from training. We rented an apartment and just chilled for Saturday and Sunday. It was great seeing them again and getting to speak more English with natives. We spent Saturday evening just people-watching on the main boulevard soaking in the last bits of summer. It was so relaxing. I also loaded up on some souvenirs for my family and got some more movies, music, and shows on my hard drive.

Came back home and started trying to get the last few settling in tasks accomplished. Managed to get a usb modem with internet service from a mobile carrier. 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. I got all this set up through a friend, Anna, I had met at one of the graduations I went to earlier. 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. It felt good to get back to exercising, and we’re going to try to run twice a week from now on. Maxim was heading to Donetsk on business on Tuesday so he invited me to go with him so I could shop for bike parts. We were successful and I got my first taste of Donetsk, a perfectly sized city that is the center of the region I live in.

The next day I went back to Donetsk to meet with a couple of volunteers I had met at the camp the week before. 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.

I spent the next weekend working on my bike. 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. 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. It really almost made me feel guilty. But Ukrainians always put you in a position to be nothing but rude if you refuse. They’re crafty these people.

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. I started feeling pretty slackerish.

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. I called my counterpart and we worked up a speech for me to give at the county-wide teacher’s conference on that Thursday. I took care of some documents Peace Corps needed with my Russian tutor on Wednesday. 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. They laughed, I laughed, I told them I’d only been speaking Russian for 4 months, they gave their support, and all was well. My director gave me the flowers some students gave him, so I win.

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. Networking is so easy. The best part about this guy is he organizes a bike race every year. I missed it by a week. Disappointing. 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. This went a little better since 90% of these teachers could understand me in English. They gave me chocolate, I win again.

I’m feeling better now that I’ve reconnected with the school and had a conversation with my regional manager. Everyone seems pleased with me at the moment, which is all I can ask for. 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. 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. I don’t feel as much of a slacker if my school doesn’t plan any farther ahead than me.

This past weekend I was invited to the ‘grand show’ at the opening of Donbass Arena in Donetsk, the “best arena in Europe” according to President Yuschenko. At this point if you’re still reading, thank you. 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. Sorry for just recounting events and focusing much about impressions. I expect my posts to become more about thoughts and feelings once my schedule becomes a little more monotonous. 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 J. So be looking for a couple more posts this week.