Friday, June 26, 2009

I ate a bowl of cereal with sour milk for breakfast this morning and didn’t even notice. For the last three mornings, I’ve woken up with little to no sense of taste or smell. It wasn’t until Zoe got up for breakfast and smelled the milk that I realized my morning’s mistake. Haha, we had quite a laugh! Half of the kids and Zoe have had a cold the entire time we’ve been here and I’ve been expecting to get it but the only thing that’s happened so far is losing my senses of taste and smell for a few hours each morning. Weird…

Instead of sitting for two hours in a musty gym and watching the kids during their Tae Kwon Do class (which we have done several times already), Zoe and I opted instead to spend the late morning in the sun, picking strawberries. A large section of the garden, and all the way around the house, is bursting with strawberry plants…hundreds of them! Dodging spiders, beetles and other various insects, Zoe and I thrashed our way through the foliage, attempting to obtain every luscious berry. Every few minutes one of us let out a screech because of a spider crawling across our toes, a disgusting half-rotten strawberry squishing between our fingers, or the worst: the evil spines of a stinging nettle finding it’s way into our knees, shins, or hands. After our attempts, Zoe’s bowl was twice as full as mine, but my tummy was twice as happy :) One for me, one for the bowl….

I’ve only been teased about being a vegetarian a few times in the last year and a half. The worst happened this afternoon. I went swimming with the kids for an hour and then came back to change clothes. We were going to the airport to pick up Richard (our supervisor) who will be staying the weekend here. Maria had hard boiled some eggs and gave me a few to eat for lunch. I peeled one and ate it. Just afterwards, Angela, the eleven year-old comes into our room, sits next to me on the floor, pats my tummy and says, “Oh…poor leetle cheek-hen….you keeled zee poor leetle cheek-hen and ate her!” My lame come back was to pat her tummy and say, “Poor little fishy.” Which is what she ate for lunch.

So between spoiled milk for breakfast and eating an unborn chicken for lunch, I’d say it was a good day for cuisine. Ha! Actually we eat a ton of fresh vegetables like cucumbers, tomatoes, cabbage, lettuce and chives. We have different variations of vegetable soup every couple of days (I think this is to accommodate my vegetarianism), lots of bread and cheese and of course chocolate. I love the homemade food!

Well, that’s all for now. We haven’t had very consistent internet so I’ve been writing these on my computer and posting when I can. Right now I’m connected through Maria’s cell phone!

a little more life in Ukraine :)

Malaya Alexandrovka reminds me of Southern Oregon. It’s ferny, green and full of trees, bugs and nice people. We live in a five-bedroom house where 12 people live. There are three separate immediate families that each have their own bedrooms. In the midst of 5 mothers, 2 fathers, 4 brothers, 9 sisters, 4 grandmothers, 6 aunts, 2 uncles and a dog, Zoe and I have found a home. I love living with so many people! Their world seems to revolve around their children and their faith, which is beautiful. Pleasantly part of the family is what we’ve become.

During our first week, the kids (who have been taking voice lessons for 3 years) were scheduled to sing at a Ukrainian party. We thought this meant some sort of event with punch and cake, nice people milling around and trying to make conversation, you know, something casual. Turns out to be a protest in front of the government building in Kiev and the kids are on to sing in between fiery speeches about how the government has wronged the people somehow. Zoe and I were slightly surprised but we went with it. The only minor mishap was getting locked within the building by ourselves without our phrase book. After following the kids in to use the bathroom, they left us to go sing. We finished up and found ourselves in a long hallway full of closed locked doors with signs above them in Ukrainian and seven policemen staring suspiciously at us. Our attempt to ask where the exit was flopped miserably so we just tried the handles of about twenty-two doors, giggling nervously the entire time, before finally finding the one that wasn’t an office. I don’t plan on ever asking another Ukrainian policeman for help in the future.

I mistakenly mentioned to Anatoliy, the pastor and eldest man in the household here, that I like to run. I never suspected his 54 year old body was made of pure steel! I discovered this the next day, as we were running our first of many early morning runs, on the forest trails next to the house. He likes to go for an 8 kilometer run, stop back by the house for bikes and then ride half a mile to the lake and swim for a while. After the first kilometer he removes his socks, shoes and shirt and continues trekking away through the forest at a pace just fast enough to make me red-faced and uncomfortable. Fear struck my heart a few times when we passed some unofficial trash dumps out in the woods, but his bare feet continue unfazed over rusty tin can lids, broken glass pieces and other various items. Maybe someday I’ll be as ironman-esk as Anatoliy but until then, I’m content as the wannabe scrambling to keep up with his shadow.

One of my favorite things is sitting during the early morning hours on the back porch, eating almonds and a banana and listening. The house is on the edge of the community, right next to the forest with plenty of room for a giant vegetable garden. I like the moments when I remember to listen to the life happening around me. I’m aware of the people pumping water from the well next door, a few grandmotherly voices discussing something in Russian (or maybe it’s Ukrainian), a dog barking, the faint sound of a train braking in the distance, and the birds and bugs composing an early morning symphony. I appreciate that Zoe appreciates her sleep so much because it gives me some time alone to be still and think each morning before Anatoliy gets ahold of me.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I'm in Ukraine!

Frequency of bowel movements has now officially been moved to the “Things Allie Should Keep To Herself” list. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake. Today, on our walk back from the Kiev train, Maria’s face registered shock and embarrassment when I mentioned the reason for my purchase of prunes at the market the day before. Sometimes I forget what things are publically appropriate to talk about. Fortunately, I haven’t made any other major blunders…yet.

Zoe and I swooped in six days ago and officially won the hearts of all five children and their corresponding mothers, fathers, aunts and grandmothers who live in the house we are staying in. It’s amazing what a few thousand games of spoons and “volleyball” can do to found a friendship. I’m not much of a gamer, to be honest, but when you don’t speak the same language, non-verbal activities trump conversation every time.

Russian and Ukrainian, both of which are spoken here as interchangeably as Spanish and Catalan are in Barcelona, have rolled my tongue into a crepe and eaten it for breakfast at least a few times daily since I’ve been here. I’ve discovered that I’m much better at language than I ever dreamed but it still seems a daunting task to tackle these Slovak languages. I have a Russian language program on my ipod so I’ve been studying whenever I can convince Christi (a very tenacious Ukrainian ten-year-old) to let me use it.

Sitting behind the house today at a little blue table with Christi and Sophie (both ten) teaching them English, I had a brilliant idea! I took their workbooks, changed the names in a certain dialog and then threw them into clothes from mine and Zoe’s suitcases. The girls practiced their little play for a bit and then performed for their siblings and Maria. Can you picture it? Two blond haired little Ukrainian girls, decked out in baggy sweatshirts and shades, walking up to each other and saying, “Hay-low! Vat ees yoo-er nem? Mine ees Zoy-ah.” I adore the way they speak! Just for the record: I am “Ellie” here and Zoe is “Zoya”.

Well, that’s all for now. Oh except to mention that the prunes worked.