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Changing it up.

I've decided to switch over to WordPress so that I can password protect some entries. This blog may or may not be used to post fictional work. I'm not being coy, I don't know if I'll come back to this blog.

My Roomate is a Jerk.

For those of you who didn't know I got a roommate here in Ukraine a couple months ago and this blog is just for me to vent about him because, frankly; there can be no doubt, my roommate is a jerk. I've never met such a finicky fella. He's always eating and not just his food, but the stuff I cook for myself. Whenever I'm cooking eggs, he huddles around the pan like he's entitled to it. What's with this guy? He's always sleeping, cruising around town for chicas or eating; seriously that's all he does. Right now he's passed out while I'm typing this, it's 3:00...pm.

I thought having a roommate wouldn't be such a hassle, I mean he's good company every once in awhile. Girls love him. He's one of those guys that has to duck behind trees or hide under tables to avoid the senioritas. If I thought I could take him to the bar with me, I would for that reason alone. I guess I can understand why, he does what he wants and forgets the rest. He's got that James Dean attitude about him which explains why he's kind of a lousy roommate. I don't know. Get this, he'll walk around the room and if I have stuff lying on a table near the edge, he'll just knock it off. There's no reason for this except he thought it would be interesting or funny to watch it fall! He has no respect for my possessions. He's already destroyed my bed/couch that isn't a futon. He does seem happy though... maybe I could learn something from him.

Perhaps I care too much what others think, always tip toeing around other people's perspectives until I can't take anymore of their opinion. Truly, I'm a mat for some people and as a result people treat me that way, my roommate's no different. We've watched movies and he just falls asleep wherever he's laying, even if it's my bed. I have to wake him up and move him out so that I can go to bed. In the morning he's so loud, I usually wake up and see him walking around, more than once pawing at the alarm clock, eventually knocking it off the table.

Perhaps the worst part is no one seems to see this except me. My neighbors all love him. They feed him fish and chicken when he's wandering around the apartment building, they'll give him a little milk to help wash it down too! I wouldn't be surprised to see him dunk oreos in there if I thought for minute we could buy them in our town. He's always hanging out around the apartment, partly because he's totally unemployable but partly because what could someone pay him for? I know there are guys like him that have become actors or joined some act on the road or a circus and I mean he's handsome enough to get into show business but I don't know if he's got the talent or the smarts. I'm pretty sure he'd need some manager to usher him between gigs and take care of his every need just to get a decent performance out of him. Pretty soon he'd just be doing it for the girls and food.

Did I mention his grooming habits? It's unbelievable, for someone who takes a ton of baths it's a sheer feet of willpower to smell as funky as he does. He's always slicking his hair back with those furry mitts of his (did I mention he's hairy? He's really hairy, he's got that long hair look but it works for him I guess, I'm not gonna hold someone's love of a long mane after all, I love my beard.) The problem is I find his hair everywhere, on clothes, the couch, even the kitchen counter! Oddly enough I don't see it in the bath tub.

When I said everyone loves him, I should clarify that. It's only my friends that he takes offense to. Whenever I invite someone into my apartment he thinks it's hilarious to surprise them when they aren't looking. When I had a bunch of volunteers crash at my apartment before Big Bang I told them straight up "He's an animal and he'll bite you." Of course when I brought cute girls back to my apartment he turns into a big cuddly, the girls couldn't stop remarking what a cutie he was. He is quite handsome, I think it's that hair of his.

He sure does seem happy though. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. He does what he has to. He eats as much as he wants and even though he's a little pudgy nobody really cares. He sleeps as much as he wants even if it's just a quick nap attack here or there. He gets his exercise in during the day being a social butterfly, tom-cattin' around town doing who knows what. I really should follow him to find out but I, unlike him have a job and responsibilities. I mean one of us has to pay the rent and so far that's always been me. My landlord doesn't seem to care that he hasn't chipped in. He'd probably get kicked out if I showed my landlord the couch but I couldn't do that.

At the end of the day I appreciate his company, even if it's lousy company. Despite living with me for about five months his English is still piss poor. I don't know about his Ukrainian because he doesn't speak it in front of me. Between the internet and I...I think he might be illiterate, which is why I'm venting this way. Honestly, I've never seen read anything! Not so much as a label. I saw him chewing on some iodine pills one day. I asked him what he was doing but he just ignored me and strutted out of the room. I don't know. Maybe he was embarrassed that I called him out on his illiteracy or his weird tendency to chew on things that should not be chewed. Alas, I'm getting away from the point.

He's not the best company, but he's something. In a country where everything takes far more effort than it would in America, it's nice to have someone simple to come home to. I understand my roommate, honestly, he only cares about sleeping, cruising for chicas and eating me out of house and home... and I respect that. There's no pretenses with this guy, he's a straight shooter and he never pretends to be something he's not. He'd be a great life coach, if only he had a life...but then again; he has the life. He has the life. Here's a picture of my roommate.

He is handsome isn't he?

Recap 2 - First Winter

After the swearing-in ceremony we all spent a night in Kiev and then left the next day. I left Kiev around 7 and arrived in Haivoron near midnight, I didn't know it at the time but the bus pulled over in Uman and from there we got a ride from my Counterpart's friend Vitaly, who is actually a Gorodki national champion.

Gorodki
Gorodki for those unfamiliar is a traditional Russian/Ukrainian sport that involves hurling a metal pipe at a stack of bricks. Haivoron is renowned for producing Gorodki champions...kind of like Texas and football. One of my 7th graders actually traveled to Crimea for a tournament which is where Vitaly (my counterpart's neighbor) is now for the same reason.

On Living with A Babushka

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the living conditions Peace Corps has established there are two options for all Peace Corps volunteers living overseas; to live with a host family or to live alone. Depending on housing situations in different countries/towns/villages, you may live alone (if you can find a place to live in) or you may live with a family. Living with Helena Vasylyvna had it's challenges and perks. If it hadn't been for her Haivoron, wouldn't have gotten a volunteer because there wouldn't have been a place for me to live. I owe her a debt of gratitude that I tried to repay in manual labor while I lived with her. Ultimately I knew I wanted to live by myself, this is something I told my counterpart when I met him and so about a month after living with H.V. I moved into my own Apartment.

Isolation
From September 27th to December 17th, I was constantly around other people. I met with my language teacher and cluster mates for about 5/6 hours a day, came up and worked around my host parent's house, ate dinner with the family and then I'd read a little and head to bed. To have a place of my own was wonderful, I'd come back from school/meetings, throw down my jacket on a chair, go grab a beer and relax by myself.

Personal time is tricky. I hated being home if it was Friday or Saturday night in the states, couldn't stand it, but here... here it's different. If I'm home Saturday night, I just enjoy the time to myself. The language barrier is difficult. I can communicate any of my needs, and given a little effort on both sides, I can understand almost everything said to me but it still requires effort. It's difficult to represent a country 24/7 which is why I'm so thankful for my down time. I've discovered the recluse within but he hasn't had a chance to really manifest himself because I make it a point to be available to the people in my town, in case they want to practice their English or hang out with an American. As a result I've got a couple Friends in town. I've got some friends who are teaching me how to curse, I play Volleyball with some, cards with others and so on. I've got a nice little niche carved out here so far. I've been able to find some really good people here, their kindness and generosity is something I try to repay whenever I can. I can't believe how many sentences I've started with the letter I. That's all for now.

Recap 1 - Teaching

Arriving at site was a great relief. To actually know where I would live for two years brought me a great sense of satisfaction. The kids were very nervous and shy, with each class I'd open up the discussion to questions and in every class all I got was "How old are you?", "Do you like Ukraine?" and "Where are you from?"

I quickly grew close to one class in particular; their English was and continues to be really great for their age, a testament to Victor's teaching prowess as well as their own enthusiasm. They took me for one of their own freely, without hesitation and made me feel welcome; something I'll always remember. Teaching them was one of my great pleasures last winter while I was still scrambling to get a feel for everything going on around me.

This isn't to say I didn't enjoy my other classes or even that I did enjoy my other classes. What makes this individual class so great is that it was a conglomeration of great students, great attitudes and aptitudes. I had other classes with great students, but there aren't many classes in the world that are as good as this one class. I'm thankful that in every class I was able to connect to at least some of the students.

I had to learn quickly to think on the fly and those first couple weeks at site greatly influenced how I would teach for the rest of my time here. I've become a fan of activities that require little preparation outside of class; instead I rely on activities and games that only require instructions or readily available materials. I've found that our books are pretty decent to get across the main idea of the lesson and then I usually juice up an activity or give it a little American flavor by altering some details.

One of the great challenges here has been teaching an entire class the same material. It's been my experience in some of my classes that we can have Olimpiad runner-ups learning the same material as kids who can't or refuse to speak more than basic introductory English. It takes practice and a sense of balance to keep all the kids busy all of the time. I assume it's like waiting tables, knowing when you've got to make the rounds, add more coffee, clearing plates, and the like. I was hesitant but giving the kids who really want to learn more work than the rest has worked out for me and for them, at least they aren't terribly bored in class while the other kids can work at a level that's appropriate for them.

I can't help but laugh at myself sometimes when I think about my current profession. When I was in High School trying to figure out what I'd do for a job my father said to me "You know I was a teacher, your mother was a teacher, your grandparents were teachers and your sister is a teacher. You should think about teaching; it's solid pay, summers off, you can live where ever you want and you'll always be able to find a job." I told him I didn't want to be a teacher. The same thing happened when I left for college and I told him a second time that I didn't want to be a teacher. When I got my invitation to be an English teacher I accepted it without hesitation because to be here as a PCV is a dream I've had ever since I lived in Nepal, there's nothing I'd rather be doing and I've realized that he's right. It's not a bad gig, I don't think I'll do it for the rest of my life, but I'm more than happy to do it now and to do it here.

Abandoned no more.

A couple months ago a good friend asked if I had abandoned this blog and the truth is yes and no... after all, I'm back now. Approaching the one year anniversary of my arrival in Ukraine finds me at an emotional purgatory. I am not the same person who left Virginia a year ago. A lot about me has changed, for the better or for the worse I can't be sure. Unlike most changes I can pinpoint exactly what was the catalyst for my perceptional 360*. I see the world as a much larger place, more unforgiving. I came here to change everything I didn't like about my life in the states and I've done that, just not in the ways I thought I would. I feel like a fool for leaving the people I loved thousands of miles away. I don't know if things would have gotten as bad as they did if I was in Virginia but the isolation takes a toll. My thoughts are all over the place. The following posts will bring you back up to speed with my life here.

I made it, sort of, pretty much, so far.

Well, I made it. I’m an official PCV and no longer a trainee. It’s odd to sit here on the eve of the New Year and think about where I was exactly a year ago, typing up my resume for Peace Corps. I remember staying up late and debating whether or not I was ready for this challenge, my resume was finished and all I had to do was email it in. Tonight, I can say confidently that I made the right choice. It hasn’t been easy but nothing worthwhile is ever easy. I’m beginning to suspect that inclination that whenever I’m presented with a choice in my life, automatically I should opt for the harder, longer, more dangerous road. Not because there isn’t enough suffering in my life (not to say that I’ve suffered) but because at the end of the day stories about how I came home early and went to bed won’t be worthwhile to hear. I’m here in the hopes that one day, when I have a kid or a grandkid; I’ll be able to tell a story worth hearing.

I’m living in a town of 13 thousand people, but our tallest building is four stories so it’s not a city, but it’s certainly not a village. It’s funny because I left Virginia thinking that I wasn’t going to see another suburb for two years and I’m living in what could only be described as the Ukrainian suburbs. My town’s name is Haivoron and it’s the westernmost town in the Kirovohradska oblast, it’s between Odessa and Kiev and slightly west of both those cities. I’m closer to Moldova than I am to a major city in Ukraine.

I’m working in a gymnasium; it’s a specialized secondary education institution where I’m teaching English to students from the 4^th to 9^th grade. The school has about 500 students, a stadium, an indoor gym, and internet. It looks like a great fit for me. They’re all about sports here which is fantastic since I love sports; I think I’m going to be able to play in a basketball league here! That was some very welcome news because I’ve really been feeling the basketball Jones.

I found out that in the summer Haivoron hosts the largest PCV summer camp in Ukraine! So I’ll be a camp counselor at least two more times. I loved being a camp counselor, so this is fantastic; I’m going to have to bring some Audrey Moore fun to Ukraine. As I reread that sentence I realize how that doesn’t sound like fun at all, but really, I can at least teach Ukrainian kids how to play Escape and that should be good start. I met the lady who runs the camp last night and she seems really great, I feel very fortunate to have such a perfect site.

Tomorrow I’m going to the massive bazaar to buy some jeans because the pair I brought doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m also going to buy them to help me look more like a Ukrainian man, so of course I’m also going to buy a Ukrainian jacket. I found out in order to look Ukrainian there are only three rules you have to follow as a guy: It has to be black, shiny, and the more zippers, the better. Of course to look really Ukrainian I’ll have to get a hair cut, but I’m hesitant to do that because I love having long hair.

I also need to buy some rooibos tea I found in one of the shops, because living out here by myself, one of the most important things you can do to combat loneliness is find the little things that make you less lonely, remind you of home. I’ve been working on my harmonica skills and now I can play, “You are my Sunshine”, “Home on the Range” and the national anthem. So far my media life savers have been Futurama, Modest Mouse, Hemmingway and of course hearing from my friends and family at home. The people here in Ukraine, both in Seminivka and Haivoron have been so wonderful, I feel like a prom queen with all the invitations to parties and get-togethers. Everything has been so wonderful, I feel so fortunate to be here.

I live with a Babushka at the moment, while my counterpart is trying to find another apartment for me live in later. Her apartment is three rooms, two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. I have my own room and we heat the flat with coal and wood, it’s how we heat the water as well. My rooms a little smaller than the dormitories at UMW I’ve got a desk, a cabinet and a wardrobe and portable heater because it’s difficult to keep the heater stoked, so we just make due and wear extra sweaters. Oh and my room has two beds, which is twice as many beds as I was expecting to have. We also have a balcony, which makes me really happy. I’m not sure why, but it’s easier to find solutions on a balcony. Maybe it’s because of the perspective it gives you. I’ve realized that other people have churches but I have balconies.

The teachers at my school are really great. On Christmas that bought me a copy of “On the Breaking of Fall and Winter.” At least I think that’s the translation. It was written by a poet who’s from my town Haivoron and they got it for me cause they know I don’t speak Russian, only Ukrainian. My babushka is also letting me read her only Ukrainian book called Bread and Salt. She’s a professor of literature at the Lyceum, a pedagogical institution here in Haivoron, so she gives lectures on Hemmingway and Dreiser, she’s pretty awesome. I can’t wait for the day when we have real discussions about literature.

My fellow teachers are so funny; they meet up in the teacher’s lounge of my school and just joke around with each other while they’re at meetings. One guy offered to take me ice fishing and I told him that’s the best kind of fishing. Also, my counterpart told me that when one of the female teachers heard they were getting a young, male PCV she said “Oh why did I have to get married last year!” I laughed so hard when he told me about it. We’ve got four great English teachers at my school and one of them invited me to come celebrate New Years with her family, so I’m going to head out there later tonight.

My counterpart is great too, his names Victor and he’s without a doubt the most huggable man I’ve ever met. He has the most majestic mustache I’ve ever seen and he’s probably one of the kindest individuals I’ve ever met. I checked out his classroom in our school and found about 5 plaques heralding his achievements as an English teacher. He told me about how he’s teaching his daughter English at home and how he uses candy as an incentive for her to use her English with him.

Yesterday we were picking which students we’d send to the Olympiads for English, it’s an educational contest to find the best students in Ukraine. I spent all of yesterday morning grading essays, checking answers, and proctoring a listening exam. I got to read out loud an excerpt from “To Shoot an Elephant”, one of my favorite stories of all time. I don’t know if I’ll be a teacher after Ukraine, but I certainly enjoy being one right now.

I have some more rediculous stories, but I can not post them here. I’ll fill you in on holidays here with my next post.

P.S. Congratulations Dan and Mary!