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!

Kittens are life savers.

Ah, so 6 weeks have already gone by. Let me catch you up on some technical stuff. So I’m living in a Village called Seminivka outside the Oblast Center Obooheave. These are (of course) spelled phonetically. I live with a really nice family; I’ve got parents and two brothers, Al(yoha) and Yuri. My brothers are students at Kiev’s University and they’re both involved with the military, Al is a tank driver and Yuri I believe is a mechanic, but they only do that part time, I think it’s kind of like ROTC, but more awesome. My parents both have degrees from Kiev, my dad is an Agronom, which is Ukrainian for Agriculturalist and my mother has a degree in Economics. They’re really wonderful, I’m very lucky to have such a sweet host family.

I live in a one story house but the land that my parents own also has a barn built out of bricks which houses: 30 chickens, 15 geese, 4 pigs, and 1 cow. At first the cow didn’t like me, but I think now we’re on good terms, or at the very least I don’t terrify the cow anymore. I still terrify the geese though, I came home late one night from class and as I turned the corner, I guess I freaked out the geese. They did something I thought only existed in cartoons. For about a second, all I could see was white wings flapping rapidly in the darkness, 15 geese fleeing in unison and when my eyes readjusted from a white blanket of feathers to the darkness and my heart slowly made it’s way back down my throat to my chest, all that was left of the geese were feathers in the air. This really happened.


Oh by the way, my family also has two dogs and a kitten. The small dog Topeek didn’t like me for about 4 weeks, but he’s finally warmed up to me, just like the cow. The other dog Twossik contains the energy of a thousand supernovas. If I walk by him while he’s chained up, he’ll do flips from jumping while chained. When he’s not on the chain he runs around my legs, jumps up, falls down, rolls over, and then runs back through my legs. He’ll also play-chew on my shoes while lying on his side, as I try to walk. In short, he’s a big ball of happy.


The kitten is my favorite though, she’s this little black kitty with white socks named Ponka. When I first came here, this was my first friend who understood less Ukrainian than I did. She’s a real cute kitten. Everyday when I come home she darts out from under wherever she’s been hiding and I pet her for 5 minutes while she purrs. She’s fallen asleep twice while I’ve petted her, it’s the only time she stops purring. Having this kitten here has been really great, it’s nice to know that here in Ukraine there’s someone here that’s even more vulnerable than me.


During the first 3 weeks I knew less Ukrainian than most three years olds, which was rough on my ego. I wouldn’t be able to express simple statements like “I’m not sick.” Or I’d try to express a want at the store and instead of saying “Excuse me, I’d like to purchase a loaf of bread” I’d say “I to want bread”. Here in Ukraine, or at least early on, I was as capable as a first grader and that’s being generous. I’ve gotten a lot better, I can communicate all my needs or wants, but they sometimes require quite a bit of miming, drawing, or extraneous explanations. My family and the people here have been great though, their patience has made communicating possible.


My family and I get along great, almost everything I do is funny to them and understandably so. I’ve been able to communicate some funny stories to them and just the way I interact with animals, people and them is funny. I told my host-mother about one of the times my dad tried to raise chickens in Nepal and I told her how my mother found out about it and put an end to it after a good day or two. That’s how long it took the rooster to crow at 5 am; which is coincidently when my mother found out about the chickens and then told me dad to get rid of them. Today, I met this woman while I was asking for directions and I got my directions and then decided I should introduce myself. So I asked her what her name was, she said Larissa, then I said my name is Sam and she said “I know.” I’m sure everyone here knows who I am, mostly because I’m American but also because I’m the only male PCT in my village.


I’m here with four other girls and for the most part they’re good people. Jillian lives down the street from me and she seems pretty awesome. Heather is very intelligent and lives closer to the school. Joyce is a sunny spot on a cloudy day, she made me laugh out loud the other day because our Language teacher asked her to translate a sentence that had and open parenthesis and she said “I don’t know how to say sad parenthesis in Ukrainian!” The last girl Skylar, is from Washington State.


I started teaching at the school about 3 weeks ago and I think it’s been going well. My students think I’m really strange but I think they like me, we play four square soccer during the breaks, but they play a little differently than we do in the states. Instead of a president, VP, treasurer and secretary; everyone is equal and no one has to leave if they miss a pass. I thought that was funny, its okay if you didn’t laugh though. The students are great, they’re enthusiastic and eager to learn but they’re very shy which impedes the learning process. I’m very happy planning and executing lessons, it’s a lot of fun.


Here are some things I’ve experienced since I’ve gotten here. I’ve cut corn with a scythe, fed corn stalks through a chopping machine, fed the animals with the chopped up corn stalks. I helped my host day move bags of beets, grain, cement and a lot of other stuff around farm. I helped him start his old truck up, helped my mom peel potatoes and cook other stuff. I watched and now know how to cook a chicken from scratch and by scratch, I mean you have to catch the chicken by the wings. My parent’s think that my squeamishness is hilarious. My host mom laughed as I shied away when she started pulling chicken intestines out of our recently deceased chicken and to be honest; I may have played it up a little bit since it makes her laugh. Every evening at dinner I have a shot of Vodka with my host Dad and occasionally on some mornings, we’ll have a shot in the morning. It’s step up from black coffee. That food here is awesome too, I’ve never eaten so much summer sausage and cheese in my life. They also do this thing where you put butter and honey on bread and eat it and I’ve got to say, that’s my new favorite dessert. I don’t eat a lot of it, but I do enjoy it occasionally. They’re also big on tea here too which is good because I love tea, and when I say I love tea, I mean I love rooibos tea, it’s my comfort food here. I will say though, I miss pizza. The tomato sauce here generally comes from a ketchup base, so the pizzas taste different. They’re still delicious, it’s just a different kind of delicious.


Let me tell you about my village. There are 600 people who live here. Being this close to Kiev, a lot of young people travel there to work but a lot of people stay here too. We’ve got two shops, a bar, and a school within a two mile radius of my house. We also have a library, post office and club but they’re somewhere far away and I haven’t been there yet. It’s beautiful here, they’ve got three gorgeous lakes and the leaves here are similar to the foliage we’ve got in Virginia. Oh and something really awesome, Seminivka is in a little valley, when you get up on the sides of the hill you can see everything. Blue skies and fields of wheat all the way, hilly with patches for crops, and beautiful leaves everywhere.


Along with pizza I miss everyone back home. If you give me your address online I’ll mail you a post card/letter with something Ukrainian back, I’ve never been huge on snail mail, but I think being here in Ukraine is going to change that. I’m super busy with language classes, homework, and teaching and basically living but I promise to respond promptly. Next week we go to the post office, so I’ll mail all the letters I’ve written then.


That’s everything I think you need to get up to date. I have a lot more to say but I don’t think it belongs in this blog post. I promise to post more often, I’ve been hesitant to do so though for a few reasons. Firstly, Peace Corps has a very strict policy about what you can and cannot say on your blog. If I violate any of their rules, they’ll boot me out of the country. Secondly, Internet access is shaky and unreliable at best. Lastly, I’m just very busy here, there’s always something to learn, someone to talk to, or some word to look up in the dictionary. For fun, I watch movies in Russian or I pet the kitty outside. More to come in a week or two. Give me your address so I can send you silly things.

Oh and today on the metro someone stole my camera. Sadface. I wouldn't be as bummed but I wasn't able to unload the pictures I'd taken to my computer. Oh well. Live and learn and lose cameras. On the sunny side, I haven't gotten lost yet... of course there's still time for that too.

The Days Are Winding Down...

The days are winding down. Soon it’ll be time to transition. I’ve been selling and giving away pieces of my life, my Fender Strat, clothes and various paraphernalia from my life. It’s interesting to think about what I can’t give away: the coconut monkey drinking a cervesa that I bought after the Ziggy and the Wailers concert in Salvador, the Pakistani wooden camel my host family gave to me while I was swimming in the South Asian International Schools Association swim meet, old Tae-Kwan-Do belts that are longer than I was tall when I earned them, a plethora of school t-shirts detailing my athletic prowess in cotton goodness. These symbols of memories and experience, firmly rooted to my book shelf, my record player, my closet. Then there are my photos of it all. My life in still fits in a little cardboard box that’s 4x6x4 inches.

Earlier this summer, my family went through our house and tried to get rid of the junk we’ve acquired after twenty years and three continents. As one among many pack-rats I have to admit, we don’t do well with extra space. Corners of our house lose their right angles to junk, chairs become a source of storage space, and abandoned artifacts wait for us in dark corners. We met with some mild success. I found out that every member in my family has at least one weak spot for a very specific kind of junk. My mother has two, yarn and clothes. I found clothes in her closet that had never been worn, tags peeking awkwardly from pockets, as if the clothes were aware and ashamed of their uselessness. We found yarn in four separate rooms in my house, scattered into secret heaps so that at any point in time my mother was no further than ten feet from a spool of yarn. It reminds me of New York and rats. My father’s hunting and gardening supplies grow like weeds, sprawling out from the designated spots in the garage and the basement until they take over. My brother had the least amount of trouble, because I don’t think he got rid of anything he really cared about, but that’s alright because he’s always kept a tidy room, something he didn’t inherit from my parents and to be honest, he’s better for it.

As for me, I found that I had the most trouble getting rid of my books. I had amassed a veritable armada of classics, 101 text books, Far Side comics and fantasy novels. They adorned my book shelves like big game trophies, proof that I had read them, dissected them and could talk at length about all of them. The shelves held my books and my books held my self-esteem, to a certain extent. What struck me profoundly was my attachment to the books before and after I moved them out of my room. Before they were all artifacts, afterwards they were pounds of pages, nothing more than paper and binding. I found myself losing interest in keeping them as if I knew that bringing them back into my room was an act of finality, that if they moved back upstairs they’d never leave.

My friends are moving in masses back home and who can blame them? We’ve graduated into the worst economic climate since Reagan was in office. It’s gotten so bad that part of the Hispanic population is moving back to their country of origin because of the lack of employment, a sure-sign of the economic apocalypse. They say it’s getting better, but I feel we’re sticking

band-aids on arterial wounds. We need a tourniquet, not Neosporin. We need to do a little spring cleaning, and cut off dead limbs. I fear that our economic instability will only entrench ourselves deeper into the safe havens we know, until one day when the fear lifts, we may not have the strength to follow through with our adventures. Roots only grow deeper with time.

Joining the Peace Corps is a gamble, in exchange for two years of my life; I’ve been presented with the opportunity of a life time. I haven’t felt this excited about anything in years, not since I played in the state championship. I feel very fortunate to be in this moment. The possibilities of what I can do with the next two years are more than enough to keep me

up at night. When I leave Ukraine I want to accomplish several goals: I want to be fluent in Russian/Ukrainian, I want to become proficient in writing grants, I want to write as much as I possibly can, I'll do my best to update this blog regularly, respond to letters promptly and most importantly, I hope to impact the lives of the people I work and live with in Ukraine for the better.

My personal evaluation upon leaving Ukraine will be simple. All I need to hear to know I’ve done a good job is "Sam, I am glad to have known you." It's not very ambitious but that's all right, it doesn't need to be ambitious. Henderson had it right, "I need human voices and intelligence. That’s all that’s left. Kindness and love” (316). This is what I intend to bring with me to Ukraine, kindness and love. However, I'll have to temper my optimism with realism. The days ahead will be difficult, very difficult but I am ready. I am ready for the challenge... or at least as ready as I can be. Of course who has ever been “ready” for the great journey ahead of them? Was Frodo ready? Was Henderson ready? I've been given the tools I'll need to reach my destination. The only qualities I need now are courage and determination.

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Saul Bellow once wrote, "Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door." After it's all said and done, when I return from Ukraine I know it'll be worth the loss of two years here in America because I’m preparing the house that will hold my memories. My parents provided the foundation, my friends have provided the walls and my experiences have hammered, screwed and welded them together to create a shelter from storms. This summer has been about cleaning up the clutter; it’s about finding those memories that will always have a place to stay in my house. And so I’d like to take a moment and thank everyone I’ve called friend. If the only decent thing about me is that I’ve loved certain people in my life, know that you are among them. Friends and Family, I am glad to have known you, I’m a better person for having known you and I hope to see you again as soon as I’m back with a stunningly attractive accent… and maybe a wife. We’ll see what happens, that’s what’s so exciting about life.