·
Friday, 31 March 2006
Internet Center Grand Opening Approaches!
L. has quite a big
party planned for next weekend when the Internet Center has its Official Grand Opening,
which is being held in conjunction with the library’s’ 150th
anniversary.
This is a very big
deal - about 150 invitations went out to people outside the library
system. The crowds include people from
the US Embassy in Kiev, Library Association people from across Crimea and (we
hope) the Regional manager from Peace Corps (Kiev) and our local politicians
and other esteemed guests.
The first activity
of the day will be a bus tour around the city for out of town guests. Around noon the staff Mark has been training
and working with will have the official Grand Opening Ceremony for the Internet
Center. An elegant buffet and social
follows that event. Late in the afternoon,
we will be bussed to the Palace of Culture for the Library Birthday Celebration
program and then we will dine and socialize for several hours at a formal banquet.
We better brush up
on our toasting skills!
Spring is here and the spring cleaning is
underway!
L. suggested Mark
work at home this afternoon since the library smells so bad today. The paint fumes are strong.
The staff is in
the midst of their monthly Sanitation Day activities and this month they are
painting the floors. Yep, librarians,
researches, administrative staff, bookkeepers, etc,. on their hands and knees,
slapping oil-based paint on the floors with 2 inch wide brushes. They paint around the bookshelves.
I try to imagine
this in America – the whole idea of a monthly Sanitation Day makes me smile
somehow. Schools here expect students to
tackle similar tasks. The idea of the
maintenance person or a contracted cleaner is uncommon here. One of those holdovers from the Soviet
era.
In preparation for
the grand opening and the birthday events, the cleaning and fix up pace has
accelerated. There are new sheer
curtains in all the windows and I noticed several new light fixtures throughout
the building.
Life Without E-Mail
Still no e-mail
though the bill was paid days ago.
It has been over a
week since I go my last e-mail “fix” and I am eager for my connection to the
outside world. The library is changing
to a different service supplier so things may change. I hope it is a change for
the better.
Customer service
is a new concept in this country. When
there were no choices people had to put up with inefficient, ineffective
service, but now choices are popping up everywhere!
Mark is Turning Green…
We have a bit of a
mystery here – Mark seems to be turning green.
He suspects the new sheets.
Our new sheets are
a cheerful deep blue with large white daisies scattered across the
background. I have enjoyed them, but
Mark thinks the bedding is the cause for the greenish tinge evident on the back
of his neck and his shaved head. His white undershirts and the inside of his
collars show a greenish tinge too, though he showers and scrubs regularly. So far I seem unaffected.
Perhaps he is just
reacting to too much cabbage in our diet.
·
Thursday, 30 March 2006
Our Potential Peace Corps Birthday
Celebration Plans
English Club met
last night. The group was a genial
collection of diverse ages, but with similar personalities. We had a pleasant discussion about the Peace
Corps: the mission, purpose, how it s organized, the history, and so forth. We did most of the talking however, but we
kept our group engaged.
After the meeting
o pair of rather reticent students approached me and complimented me on my
energy and enthusiasm. They asked if
they could bring friends along next week.
The two came this week as referrals from a twenty-something Peace Corps
Volunteer at a local institute who will soon be departing for the USA and
exploring life after the Peace Corps.
March 1st
was the start of Peace Corps’ 45th year so there is a push to find
ways to acknowledge this milestone. We
hope to involve our English Club in organizing a Texas-style 4th of
July celebration and use that as a springboard for sharing materials on Peace
Corps history and progress in Ukraine.
There will be Mark’s home-made chili and maybe corn on the cob and ice
cream sundaes (IF we can find the moneys for food!) as well as some relay races
and games and some Texas Swing music playing on the computer.
We will try to get
red bandanas, small flags to hand out and maybe a few cowboy hats for the club
members to wear to set the tone. We will
invite people from around the community (the mayor too) who may have an interest
or would benefit from having a Peace Corps Volunteer so in a way this will be a
“recruitment” effort, but generally it will be a celebration of Peace Corps in
Ukraine and the American connection here.
There will be handouts, displays and a PowerPoint show and probably a
short speech or two.
Culture Shock USA
Our Friend L.
arrived at club tonight with a large ar of home-canned apricots for us.
She arrived a bit
late so I did not get a chance to speak to her privately and after the meeting
we could not escape others who were eager to visit informally so I still do not
know the next chapter in the story of the American who came here on a
bride-hunt!
L. was cheerful
and smiling so I suspect things went well.
She pulled a book from her bag and shared it with me. “Culture Shock
USA” is a book from a series that gives traveler insights into the particular
country they plan to visit. L. indicated
that her recent American guest brought the book for her. I smiled and asked if she was planning a trip
to the USA and she smiled and looked away, blushed a bit, and seemed to imply
that it is a possibility. So our soap
opera continues. The “friend,” whom she
met on the Internet, is from southern Colorado.
Culture shock is a high probability!
I had to laugh
when I saw the book, because we own the counterpart titled “Culture Shock
Ukraine” and have recently re-read it.
The author is an American who spent a few years working in Kiev shortly
after Ukraine’s break with the Soviet Union.
While there are some useful insights, it is not well edited and is about
as accurate and disorganized as my notes here in this journal – just one
person’s collection of opinions, experiences with a little research thrown
in. Its primary virtue is that there are
few books available on travel in Ukraine.
Ukraine has been
going through rapid changes so any book would be hard pressed to be accurate
for long. Each day we see new products
available and attitudes changing as television, films and magazines continue to
influence local culture, attitude and expectations.
I borrowed L.’s
USA book to get an idea of an outsiders approach to America and Americans. Mark took our Ukrainian version off to work
with him to share with a club member who was interested in seeing how their
countrymen are represented.
Minding my Knitting - Starting Over
Sigh – the
knitting project I began earlier this week became once again, a simple ball of
yarn. I had almost a meter of scarf on
my needles when I found a fatal flaw. A
dropped stitch on the outside edge laddered down the projects leaving huge
gaps. I investigated the possibility of
repairing the error, but because of the nature of the yarn (very slick,
ribbon-like material) and the large stitch pattern, it seemed best to simply
cut my losses and begin again.
I pat myself on
the back for maintaining my dignity and simply acting, rather than reacting or
mourning the losses. I used a different
stitch pattern for the newly created scarf.
It is moving forward quickly, but I must admit, I do not have the
affection for it that I had for the original.
I am more detached and dispassionate.
Is that a good thing?
Knitting as
psychology….hmmmmm.
Internet Access Today?
It has been over a
week since I sent any e-mail…no Internet access at the library so I have no
connections with the world outside Kerch really. Even with e-mail, our knowledge of what is
going on in the USA is limited and we miss hearing from friends and family.
·
Wednesday, 29 March 2006
Where’s the Camera When You Need it?
Mark had a photo
opportunity yesterday, but it was not so charming and perhaps it is best that
he did not have the camera available. It
is an image he may wish to erase from his mind too.
Walking to work
through the park along the sea a about 8 AM, he came across a family of three –
Father, Mother and a young child of about three. They were seated on a park bench enjoying the
fresh spring air and the bright morning.
A nice moment until they each reached for their beer bottle, the
three-year old included! There is a
moment of culture shock: a child drinking beer and, for that matter, anyone
drinking beer at 8 AM!
On this fine
Spring day, I sit at the desk near the window and have a clear view of
Mitridate Mount in the center of the old city.
In a few weeks, the view will be obscured by fresh, young tree
leaves. A flock of goats grazes on the
steep hillside in a timeless manner that captures my imagination. A photo opportunity. The camera, of course, has traveled to work
with Mark where he is no doubt, documenting progress on the new Internet Center
at the library.
There are so many
delightful images I would like to capture in my camera. The photos are a way of refreshing my
memories in years to come. Of course,
when caught without my camera, I often pause and take a mental picture, framing
the shot in my mind as one might with an older 35 mm camera. (With digitals, people tend to take shots
rather randomly and do the artistic work later on their computer screens – they
go for volume rather than quality).
Goats, in this
urban setting; a pleasant reminder of the past; babies and beer, a not so
pleasant social commentary on the present, but hopefully not on the future.
Power Struggles
No electricity
today. I reframe this potentially
frustrating issue into an opportunity to play hooky from some activities and
indulge in writing a few letters and beginning my Pilates regime.
Solar Eclipse
What began as a
very bright day evolved into a very dark midday. Since I had no electricity and was relying on
light coming through the window I was aware of how uncharacteristically dark it
was becoming. I looked out, expecting
storm clouds, but none were evident. It
was as dark as evening and the sky around Mitridate Mount was an eerie
purplish-blue.
The solar
eclipse! We had a solar eclipse of about
85%!
·
Tuesday, 28 March 2006
Finding Flow…
Friday I received
a bulging envelope from my thoughtful mother-in-law. Among the treasures inside were two pair of
wonderful, fat, smooth bamboo knitting needles, a couple skeins of colorful novelty
yarn and a great how-to knit picture book that has set my heart running.
The book is titled
“Book 2: The Purl Stitch, Becoming Intuitive” by Sally Melville and
Photographed by Alexix Xnakis. Large
glossy photographs show a wealth of really stylish, eclectic clothing projects
– not the typical boring, lumpy garments executed in cheap acrylic yarn that
are often depicted in black and white and available as free patterns at the
local crafts store. (There are plans for
five books in the series.)
It has been hard
to keep my hands off the new toys. I
already have most of a scarf made up from the glitzy purple, gold and turquoise
ribbon yarn. I have also prepared a
gauge swatch hoping to create an elegant sleeveless shirt from some rich
burgundy thread I purchased a few months ago at the bazaar. The book also has a sophisticated and stylish
shawl and a charming short knit dress that are high on my list of projects.
(maybe I can accomplish one of them on the three long round-trip train trips to and from Kiev we have ahead of
us in May – Hmmm…that’s about six (6) days and nights on the rails…yikes!)
The book includes
some meditative sections sprinkled throughout its pages. One of them is a nice discussion on what
Hungarian psychologist Czikzentmilhalyi refers to as “flow.” The author suggests that knitting provides
people with an optimal experience, or flow, which engages them in healthy
ways.
In my experience,
the repetitive nature of knitting soothes and frees the mind in ways that
facilitate creativity and problem solving.
But, knitting an
be a dangerous pastime for anyone with compulsive or obsessive tendencies. It is easy to become absorbed and totally
lose track of time. People will say,
“just one more row and I will quit,” and then continue to click away for
another hour or two.
I like the feeling
of accomplishment when I pause and admire the fabric flowing away from my
needles. There is a magical quality
about the way each stitch builds on another stitch to eventually create
something tangible.
Some people make
knitting look so effortless. I doubt I
will ever achieve that standard. In my
experience, there are few things (if any) I do that are effortless. They all involve commitment, repetition, and
a positive attitude. It also helps to
have the ability to know when to rip it all out and start over or instead to
just happily focus on the hundreds and hundreds of perfect (OK, adequate may be
a better word choice) stitches and overlook the flawed ones.
Thank you
Mother-in-law!
·
Monday, 27 March 2006
Some Post Election Rambling
The
Ukraine Elections were yesterday and it was the first day of Daylight Savings
Time here too.
Friday
the political rallies were at fever pitch.
There are around 48 political parties represented on the ballot and each
faction seems to have very strong opinions to share. For weeks (months?) the television has been
dominated with campaign advertising and political rhetoric. Here in Kerch the public areas were crowded
with small tents staffed with people intent on thrusting pamphlets into the
hands of passersby. This made for some
interesting encounters when we would decline the papers and announce in Russian
that we are Americans and are not allowed to vote here.
The
campaigning groups often hire bands to draw an audience so we have enjoyed
sitting in the square and listening to brass bands and accordion players
harmonizing happily.
Friday
was the last official day for campaign activities so music and firecrackers,
cars with loudspeakers ad people were out and about until long after midnight.
We
were advised by Peace Corps to keep a low profile over the weekend since
tensions could be high.
The
ballot boxes here are large clear Plexiglas containers. The blue trident that is Ukraine’s symbol
adorns the side. Each voter physically
deposits a ballot into the slot on top.
We were surprised to see a police officer and several men arrive in our
courtyard carrying the local ballot box with them. They arrived at our housebound elderly
neighbors door and pounded enthusiastically, waiting for her to appear and to
cast her ballot.
We
are told that most people vote at the local fire station, but it appears that
if the voter cannot come to the ballot box, the ballot box can b brought to the
voter!
So
far, all is quiet here in Kerch. Perhaps
Mark will have political tales to share when he arrives home this afternoon.
Weather & Animal Updates
It
is a glorious spring day! Windows are
open and the flat is filled with sunlight and the sounds from the courtyard and
the street. Birds sing, pedestrians
banter and chat, and the sounds of the sea make pleasing background rhymes and
dogs bark, and bark and bark.
Yes,
the neighborhood puppies and their parents happily bark and bark and bark. They are loud and constant.
As
an observer, I would say the parent dogs have encouraged their progeny to be a
bit overly confident since they are not in the least cowed by the massive stray
dogs who wander through the area looking for scraps and fights. The pups, encouraged by the pack mentality
and the ignorance and bliss of puppyhood, delight in pestering the larger (in
many cases huge) dogs that come into their turf.
So
far, the St Bernards, German Shepherds and pit bills have simply ignored the annoying
yappy-youths. Obviously at this point their
attacks are not to be taken seriously.
At least not yet. I expect one
day they will learn the consequences of bullying behaviour when one of these
larger, more experiences dogs shows them that a bite, is indeed worse than a
bark!
We
have not seen the fourth puppy in over a week.
We have no idea what happened to him.
Life on the street can be challenging.
Since
I have reported on the dog neighbors, I feel compelled (or inclined anyway) to
add some notes about the felines in the kitchen courtyard. I find them increasingly often camped in the
leaves under my kitchen window where they are warmed by early morning sunshine
and protected within the fenced area that is our tiny garden. Their population seems to have dwindled too,
though they may simply have become braver and extended their adventures to
other areas now that snow and ice do not keep them restricted to home.
This
morning there were seven of last year’s littermates snarled up in a cunning
ball of heads and tails as if they were cold.
They sleep in this jumble for long periods and then wake to groom
themselves and each other. It is one of
my simple pleasures to pause in my work, sip some coffee and watch cat life
unfold. (I imagine this is as exciting
as watching paint dry for some people!)
A
handsome elder cat has adopted this gang of youngster cats and stays with them
throughout the day. I enjoy him because
he is handsome and well behaved and seem to be a kind, guardian presence for
the yearling cats. He is a delightful
marmalade cat – arrange guy, as I call that kind of cat. He reminds me of one the cats we got in Spain
– Catt E. Wampuss was a wonderful companion so it is nice to be reminded of
him.
Water Report
We
do have water today after a weekend of intermittent service. A backhoe spent some time in our courtyard
and crews of men were in and out of the several murky manholes, apparently
trying to isolate the problem.
They
were here a few times last week too…this does not bode well, though perhaps it
is part of a spring maintenance plan. We
shall see!
Internet Report
It is the end of
the month again so I was not too surprised when Mark came home with news that
the Internet shut down while he was online Friday. My mail did not go out nor did mail come in
This seems to be
the monthly scenario in this cash economy.
Service is cut off until the cash arrives and no one pays ahead because
in a country where things change frequently and people go for months with out
pay, days with out water or heat, and have lived without choices for so many
years…well…what can I say?
·
Friday, 24 March 2006
Ramblings about life and choices…
One of the things
I have observed in moving about over the years is that each place offers many
new interesting and delightful surprises.
When it is time to leave to make my home in some new place, I have usually
acquired a taste for something I may not be able to find at the next place.
Knowing this from
experience has made it easier for me to leave behind things I cherished and
people I love. Of course people cannot
be replaced, and many things take on a personal value that makes it difficult
to part with them too. I believe it is
because I have had a good life that I am able to move forward with grace and
joy and to embrace a new, expanded life beyond the limits of my immediate
community and culture. Each positive
experience makes me more confident that God provides us with more blessings
than we can possibly comprehend.
Too often we limit
ourselves by allowing fears to rule our lives – we become like the greedy
monkey caught grasping a fistful of treats from inside a jar with a narrow
opening. I am also reminded of the Bible
tale about the individual who buries his coins (talents) rather than investing
them in life.
This is not a
particularly profound observation, but it occurred to me as I read my daily
e-mail digest from an informal group of people who are mostly in the
application stages of their Peace Corps adventures. There is much e-mail traffic about what to
bring along for their 27 months overseas and of course there is sadness about
leaving people behind and fear about what the future holds. (Wait until they have to figure out what they
can bring back from in those same small bags - even harder I think.)
Flying on ones own wings…
Fortunately, most
of the applicants are bravely and happily moving forward, knowing the life
ahead of them will be rich and rewarding, but for many, it is impossible to
break the ties they have woven around themselves over the years. (The ties vary from the obvious to the subtle
– complacency with life, family demands, a narrower sense of home, fears about
supply or safety…)
This learning to
fly on ones own wings is quite a feat, to paraphrase the Oregon state
motto. I borrowed that motto back in
1978 when I elected to put it to the test and joined the US Air Force. (I was happily married, with two small
children, but felt like a panther pacing inside a cage waiting for
release.) It was frightening to see the
earth drop away beneath my feet (figuratively) as I made my way into the clean,
pure air above. Those earthbound below
may have thought it looked easy to soar and glide on the currents, but of course,
the hardest part was deciding to fly in the first place.
For me, that was
the real start. Up until then, my adventures
had been vicarious or passive. Now more
than a quarter of a century later the children are grown and the spouse is
still with me as we fly.
Now I know for
certain that the world holds blessings and joys…the illusions and bad dreams
tat tell us otherwise only have the power we give them. (Hmmm – Think of the woman trapped in Hell in
the movie “What Dreams May Come”… Think of Goethe’s Faust…Think Mary Baker
Eddy’s Science and Health…Jonathan Livingston Seagull…etc. )
This is where my
thoughts are on this bright March Friday in Crimea where crocus bloom and the
spring air is fresh!
·
Thursday, 24 March 2006
Life’s a beach…
I am doing
research on the Kerch area for a tourism website. Today I am learning about the beaches.
In the center of
Kerch, there are no beaches but this is a beach community. There is easy access to the Black Sea, the
Kerch Straits and the more isolated Sea of Azov. The solar light hours in the Strait area (1,790
hours) is higher than the famous resort area of Yalta!
The official
bathing season in the Kerch area for adults begins 21 May and extends until 9
October. Children, I have learned, have
a separate timetable. Children may swim
in this area from 30 May until 14 September.
There are hundreds
of kilometers of virgin beach to choose from and many inviting “pocket beaches”. This is one of the perks of being isolated
here on the tip of the peninsulas (we are on a peninsula of a peninsula
actually!). On one beach there are pines among dunes. This is quite unusual in Crimea. On this end of the peninsula, we do no have
many trees so it is unique in more ways than one.
Then there are
other kinds of beaches.
Nuclear power and nudity go hand in hand…
Cape Kazantip and
the never-completed city of Shcholkino offers a very different beach
experience. Shcholkino (named for the
father of the nuclear bomb and atomic power engineering) began as a community
designed for the workers at the nuclear power plant being built on the
cape. Plans were abandoned in 1998 when
Crimean “Green” Party strikes succeeded in halting the project.
I will quote a part
of a description of this beach extracted from a local guidebook “Time to Come
to Crimea” by I Rusanov: “… For
people with traditional morals it is better to refrain from visiting this place,
such abundance of tattoos, pierced noses, lips, and whatnot, frenzy haircuts,
hairdresses, and such a free nudism you cannot find in any other place within
the borders o well-behaved Motherland….”
The text continues
to describe how “…you will face a number
of ways to have vacations without trunks and panties…”
You can dance all
night on the nuclear reactor, race jeeps all day or enjoy sailboarding,
etc. Oh, there are international biker’s
meetings there too!
Hmm, I wonder if
this all happens during the children’s’ bathing season?
So I continue with
my research and editing. I guess I will have the opportunity to see
what life is really like in a post-soviet era beach town far from the
traditional resort areas in Crimea.
·
Wednesday, 22 March 2006
We woke to the sound of a waterfall.
Mark thought it
was static on the shortwave radio that serves as our alarm clock, but one look
out the window revealed a serious water problem: the intersection is flooded
and water is bubbling several feet into the air in an impromptu fountain! This cannot be good!
A Day in Feodosia…
Tuesday we bounced
along in the back of a bus to Feodosia where Mark was to meet with his Regional
Manager to pick up some medical supplies.
This arrangement meant an opportunity to enjoy the city on the sea on a
bright spring day.
Lunch at Billy’s Saloon – burritos and
enchiladas Crimean style
We lunched in a Crimean
shrine to Texas! Yes, we actually had
nachos, burritos and enchiladas, though if someone had not told us that is what
we were eating, we may not have recognized them as Tex-Mex food. My cowboy spouse and I found a Tex-Mex
restaurant!
When we entered
the restaurant, the waiter quickly guided us back to the entry where the coat
check room was and took our outer garments before allowing us into the dining
room. Mark kept his cowboy hat on.
Once seated in
Billy’s Saloon, we perused the menu and had fun deciphering the names of
Tex-Mex food from written in the Cyrillic alphabet. The wait staff wore jeans and had bandanas
around their necks. The dance floor had
a pole for the dancers who perform on weekends!
This was our first
experience with a theme restaurant here in Crimea. Tourism is growing and in Feodosia, where we
were spending the day, they do get tourists.
In Kiev, the capital, there is a large expatriate community and there
are tourists so when we make occasional sojourns there (24 hours on a train
each way!) we can find some eating places that serve familiar American foods.
There s actually a
TGI Fridays in the heart of Kiev as well as McDonalds and even a few Baskin and
Robbins (haven’t been to B&R yet, but I plan on some Rocky Road when we
head north in May!) establishments! As
the country develops economically, there will be others too. According to the “Kiev Post”, a newspaper
that primarily serves the English-speaking expat-community, IKEA plans to open
its doors here in the next couple years.
I love IKEA!)
We were delighted
to eat the food offerings, though the nachos turned out to be potato chips rather
than tortilla chips and the enchilada was heavy on catsup and had pickled
carrots inside.
The experience
left me wondering how Chinese people in America feel when they dine at a
Chinese restaurant!
Book store visit – Gogol book
On our last visit
to Feodosia, the huge book store we found was closed. This time we had the opportunity and time to
linger. Of course the books are in
Russian and Ukrainian, but there was a small section of materials geared toward
students and/or teachers of English. In these
sections, it is often possible to find a few classic American authors available
in English. DeFoe, O’Henry, Twain are there as well as others. Books are quite pricey by local standards and
after life in America with behemoths like Barnes and Nobles proliferating; it
is hard to be satisfied with what is available here.
We did not come
away empty handed though. Mark found a
book on cave-cities of Crimea and we found a cultural studies book on Ukraine,
which will be useful and interesting. I
splurged on a children’s book with wonderful artwork depicting a classic Gogol
tale we have seen aired in three different versions on Ukrainian
television. The details in the colorful
artwork include all the things associated with peasant life in Ukraine. I hope to find a good English interpretation
of the actual story!
Gogol, in English,
is another author I hope to add to my growing library
Institute visit
We had the chance
to participate in a site-development visit, an interesting experience. We met with the two PC staff representatives
and their driver and went to visit the Institute where some lucky business PCV
will serve for the next couple of years.
We sat in on the interview and toured the facility, but did not get to
see the flat. Our participation was
incidental, since we actually met with them to pick up some medical supplies.
Cemeteries
Early in the day
we found ourselves drawn into a cemetery adjacent to the central bus station
and the bazaar. I am drawn to cemeteries
and seem to find myself wandering around in them in every country I visit.
Cemeteries here
are often crowded together in a way that seems odd to my more regimented
western sense of order. I see the same
chaotic approach to the dachas I see – everything is so close together and initially
seems disorderly or chaotic.
I find some charm
in this really.
People visit
cemeteries and while they are not groomed and maintained in a way that I might
expect with my American perspective, they are lovingly attended. Flowering plants, vines, benches, photos,
bright paint and other details make each grave individual. I guess I might have expected more
regimentation somehow – the influence of all those years of Soviet rule and the
suppression of thoughts. I want to know
more about this aspect of life in this culture.
·
Tuesday, 21 March 2006
A great read – “Master and Margarita” by
M.A. Bulgakov
I am currently
reading a borrowed copy of the classic (and electrifying) novel by self-described
satirist M Bulgakov, “Master and Margarita.”
Clearly this novel requires readers to make notes!
My spouse pokes
fun at me because I cannot seem to read any book unless I have pen in
hand. Yes, I underline, I make parallel
lines down the margins and insert small arrows.
On occasion, I scrawl a few words or simply indicate surprise or
confusion by using the appropriate punctuation mark as shorthand.
This habit is
troublesome if I am reading a borrowed book or one from the library. In those cases, my parenthetical remarks and
observations are noted, rather randomly, in one of my omni-present spiral
notebook. (I am partial to the yellow
graph paper sort and I maintain a small stock of them among my possessions.)
I am delighted to
finally lay hands on this particular book with its detail of Soviet live in the
1930’s - a totalitarian culture that precluded this noel from even being
published until decades later. It is
playful reading with surprising plot twists and elements of fantasy, yet it presents
issues of personal responsibility and reconciles philosophical opposites that
leaves a reader changed. The novel can
be read and enjoyed as simply an unusual story, or one can interpret the
allegories and allusions that are layered into the narrative. There is magic and moonbeams, a talking cat,
monologues by Pontius Pilate, and references to philosophy and religion and so
much more, and all artfully woven together with irony, humor and great skill.
Bulgakov, a
Ukrainian author born in Kiev in 1891, wrote this novel knowing it would
probably never survive the censors, but he attempted to circumnavigate them
through artful and ingenious handling of the controversial ideas he wanted to
explore and share. The expression to
“write for the drawer” was an accurate description of how many writers and
thinkers of that period managed to survive.
This author will
merit a shelf in my library.
Two other M.A.
Bulgakov books I hope to obtain are “Heart of a Dog” and “White Guard”.
·
Friday, 17 March 2006 – St Patrick’s’ Day
Living like the locals – less is more!
As I washed my
dishes in wonderful hot, soapy water this morning (after a day without water)
my mind traveled many places. First, of course,
I counted my blessings and my gratitude was compounded as I thought about our
friend T who is moving today.
T. has been living
in a private home with a lovely yard, but no indoor plumbing. He hauls water from the well, has an outhouse
and heats his home with coal. As you can
imagine, he is careful in his habits in order to reduce the amount of work
involved in food preparation and clean up and washing clothes and bathing, but
it is still a significant amount of work for those of us accustomed to a
different life style.
Friend T. is moving
to an urban area and will live in a flat with more amenities. I will miss his occasional overnight visits
where he enthused over our hot water and tidy bathroom. He will not miss the practical experience on
living modestly, but he will miss the garden filled with fruit trees, nuts and
berries, and he will miss the wonderful network of friends and neighbors he
cultivated during his tenure in the village he called home.
The logistics of
life here can be amazing. We have few
dishes here and just enough cutlery to get by actually. We have fewer clothes, so there is never much
laundry. This is good because in the end
it is less work to maintain than if we had a more generous table setting or a
larger wardrob. With a limited number of
dishes, washing them never takes long and we certainly do not need a dishwasher
and the same holds true with our laundry!
It never takes long!
In part, we keep
it simple here because we are here for only another 14-16 months here. Then we will have the difficult chore of
deciding what to keep and how to dispose of all the errata we have and will accumulate. We can leave with only what the airlines
allow us to carry.
We also came here
expecting to live like the local people, so we could learn more about what
makes them who they are.
Our local friends
and acquaintances have formed opinions on Americans from television, books and
films and an occasional encounter with a tourist or a missionary. They watch us carefully. We try to be circumspect in our habits, but
often find ourselves painfully aware of how much energy we use, what foolish things we buy, how much trash we
generate and how accustomed we are to throwing money at problems.
I remember feeling
a bit foolish at our initial host family home because I had several pairs of
shoes and so many changes of clothing.
The local people manage to be clean, neat and professional with far
fewer choices at their disposal. (Of
course I know they would probably like to have more, yet years of living
frugally and carefully makes our abundance seem pretty frivolous.).
Years ago in Spain
(under the Fascist rule of Generalissimo Franco), I would observe people going
through our trash. In our privileged
American way, we often disposed of items that are useful and valued by others
who strive to make ends meet under such difficult circumstances.
The same is true
here. We dispose of simple items like
plastic bags, card board boxes, paper with writing on only one side, jars and
bottles, broken toys, and all kinds of other items.
While many PCVs
see their role as someone who can bring something to the table, they may be
surprised at the banquet of opportunities that awaits them. Their little American casserole of money and
technology and strong opinions may look pretty meager next to the bounty of
offerings awaiting them.
In living like the
locals, observing how they handle daily activities we really can learn some
valuable lessons. And by adopting some
of their attitudes we find new priorities that make life more about
relationships than about things.
By living a more
humble lifestyle I find I earn the respect of the local people and they are
more inclined to listen when I have something to share.
As I washed my few
dishes this morning, I used methods I learned from my earlier experiences in
Spain when water supplies were erratic and hot water was a luxury. The process
worked well - I ran out of hot water, just when I rinsed the last plate!
Housework quickly done,
time to play on this Friday when everyone is Irish!
·
Thursday, 16 March 2006
No Water
I malingered too
long at the breakfast table. By the time
I paused from my morning read (a couple Newsweek articles and a couple columns
from the Christian Science Sentinel are my breakfast companions most days) and
strategy planning (I make a “to do” list most days), it was already 10 AM!
I decided to put
water on to boil for the thermos of coffee I like to have around all day and
while it heated up, I would brush my teeth, etc and get dressed.
I turned on the
tap. Nothing came out. Sigh.
“Rats!” I thought,
unhappy that the electric hot pot did not have any residual water in it this
morning. I thought I had learned to
refill it automatically when I empty it - just in case.
Of course I do
have some bottled water around so I can brush my teeth and scrub my face and
yes, I can make coffee, but there is always that lingering fear that the water
may not return for days or weeks. It
happens around here and it happens fairly often.
The library
director was without water for three weeks this winter.
People who live
like this learn to be flexible.
People do not talk
about it, in much the same way people in snowy, cold places do not ever really
complain about the snow and cold.
During summer
months, the water is off more often.
This is when they do the repairs.
·
Wednesday, 15 March 2006 – The Ides of
March
The Ugly American Visits
We just got home
from English Club where the evening took a strange twist - ended up running
shotgun on an ugly American who came to Kerch on a bride search and managed to
chug too much cognac, flash cash and make himself look pretty stupid between
his limited Russian skills and his drunken, obnoxious behavior. We stuffed him into a cab and hope for the
best.
I know this man is
probably quite charming under normal circumstances, but as we stuffed him into
a taxi, I was not too certain about that.
When we arrived at
English Club we were met at the doorstep of the library by one of the regulars
who had an American tourist in tow. It
was obvious right away the American was feeling pretty uncomfortable and stressed,
but some people may have perceived his abrupt behavior and aggressive manner as
rudeness.
He seemed
dismissive when I initially introduced myself – I got that, “you are merely a
woman and an old one at that, therefore of no particular use or value to me, so
beat it” attitude from him that some guys just seem to emanate. (Do they not know or do they not care or do
they actually cultivate this?) He barely
looked at me and did not acknowledge my greeting or handshake. (Hmmm, perhaps I am invisible, I thought, as
he looked past me!)
I decided to
simply escape the encounter and left my spouse behind to deal with this
man. Mark concurred with me later, when
we had a chance to talk, but Mark did not think his boorish start to the
evening was merely gender or age bias.
No, my spouse was concise in his choice of words, “this guy is a jerk.”
It went downhill
from the start, and the next few hours were tough to navigate. I will spare the reader the details of our
sorry evening with this ugly American, but drunken boors are more challenging
than just regular boors.
It is hard to
discount his behavior tonight, but he could be under considerable stress, but
he did little to win me over.
We will see about
his character in the way he handles himself in the next few days I guess.
Maybe, if we are
lucky, we will not encounter him again at all.
·
Tuesday, 14 March 2006
Vinyl Tablecloths and Choices
This morning as I
sip my coffee I am reminded of my mother.
What was the trigger? The practical
yellow plastic tablecloth that brightens my humble kitchen here in Crimea by
the sea makes me think of Mother. When
we were out shopping, Mother always seemed to be on the look out for an
oilcloth tablecloth for the stark, enamel kitchen-table in the big yellow house
on Eighth Street
At the time, I was
disdainful of even the term oilcloth.
The word seems archaic. Wouldn’t
plastic or vinyl be the appropriate term?
And why would anyone want a stiff plastic tablecloth? Why not fabric? I would remain silent as Mother consulted the
clerk. “Oilcloth is easy to keep clean,”
Mom said to the clerk, as her search continued, “and the colors stay bright.”
I recently had tea
in the home of one of my Crimean friends.
We gathered around the kitchen table, sipped hot, sweet tea, indulged in
rich, dark chocolates and slices of a cream filled pastry, while we talked.
L. set down her
cup, fingered the bright vinyl table covering and admired it, “Oh how pretty
and so easy to clean!” Then she looked
at me, tilted her head, and asked, “Do you have these in America?”
I paused.
I love table
linens and tablecloths. In my South
Carolina bungalow far, far away from Kerch, I have a about fifteen or twenty
tablecloths – dinner-party-elegant to picnic or tailgate party depending on the
requirements. I also have dozens of
napkins from playful cows grazing on a field of bold red to crisp white Battenberg
lace. There is also a drawer where
dozens of placemats wait to serve o days when the mood strikes me.
Yes, I have quite
an inventory of tableware, but I do not have a vinyl tablecloth.
My mind wandered
back to one of my first visits to a bazaar here in Ukraine. My host family took Mark and me to the local
open-air market on a snowy cold day when everything seems to have stepped out
of a black and white movie. The venders
had their fur hats pulled down over their ears and their collars were turned up
to foil the wind.
T., red-cheeked
and happy, hustled around from vender to vender making her weekly purchases and
showing off her American guests to her friends and acquaintances. After a stop at the fish market where she
pulled a plastic bag from her purse to wrap up her purchase, we bought some
sour cream, which the vender ladled into a jar T. also brought with her
Then, oblivious to
the snow and ice, T. quickly wound us through the crowds and stopped at a
vender who had roll after roll of vinyl.
The large bolts of vinyl strewn with bright sunflowers and hot peppers
clashed with the grey day. T. smiled as
she examined what was available and made her choice, a rather sedate brocade
pattern in a pale strawberry pink. The
vender cut the required amount from the bolt and T. carefully counted out the
coins and placed them in his hands. She
tucked her special purchase in her bag and we made our way home.
Small pleasures,
bright colors, and choices. I have had
them all my life. Some people have not.
I suddenly
realized that the simple vinyl tablecloths are a symbol of a better life. Something inexpensive and practical, yet
bright and comforting in a world where there are not always choices. A step up from a bare table.
“No,” I answered
L, breaking out of my reverie, and smiling at her, “We don’t.”
And I just left it
at that.
My Morning Pages – What is the Point?
The stuff I spew
out here is just ramblings that pop into my head as my fingers race across the
keys. This is intended to be a kind of
morning calisthenics that gets my brain moving and the blood pumping so I can
move on to other writing projects. Of course,
it does not always work that way.
Some days I find
myself logging the events of the day and other times I latch onto a thought and
just let it fly while I try to keep up on the keyboard.
The original goal
was simply to articulate whatever went through my brain for 15 minutes at the
start of my day. (Read J. Cameron’s book
on creativity and find the “morning pages” exercise – Hmmm, I cannot remember
the name of her book!)
It has morphed a
bit I guess, but I still freewheel my way through this exercise on a daily
basis and thoroughly enjoy myself in the process.
·
Monday 13 March 2006
The Business of Life - What is My Business?
These days I often
feel filled with ideas. I feel as if I
have helium inside me and may go aloft at any moment; like a buoyant balloon. Life has so much to offer and I seem so aware
of all the wonderful options available.
Today I go about
my household routine after a few days’ hiatus and keep stopping to make cryptic
notes about some idea that pops into my consciousness. This is not so unusual, for me, at
least. I am not now, nor have I ever
been a particularly linear thinker, worker or manager.
I prefer to
multi-task or I become like a fish in a bathtub going round and round,
occasionally (often) splashing water out on the floor as I make quick turns and
swish my way back to the other end, only to discover I am still in a bathtub
and not in a sea. (The fact that my MA
is in organizational management makes me laugh at times – striving to impose
structure on any organization is a huge endeavor and the most successful in the
field seem to rely on intuition as much as science…but then, isn’t intuition
akin to what Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science, says about
angels – they are simply God’s thoughts passing to man. But, I digress)
I do like to
observe organizations (see above) and the behavior of people (yep the undergrad
is in psych) consequently I have collected quite a long list of observations
concerning work, leadership, management and processes. It is these thoughts that drive me back to my
notebook to scrawl yet another almost unreadable though down on paper before
resuming m original task.
I have yet to
write the article, but before writing it, I consider my potential audience. I want the material to be available to my
Peace Corps comrades (what a Crimean choice of words!).
I consider (have
considered) writing business articles for the Ukraine PCV’s unofficial
newsletter. That forum for my articles
is not entirely appropriate though. Since
I am now only an “associate” member of Group 28 and/or Peace Corps, I feel
constrained; I am overly conscious of a need to keep a fairly low profile since
I am not officially part of the organization anymore. I do not wish to endanger the position of
anyone in Mark’s food chain (including Mark).
No, I am not part
of the team. I am, instead, a real
volunteer, having financed my own return here following my medical separation
from Peace Corps last summer. This opens
some doors, but certainly closes others.
My conscientious
concern about policy and appearances is elevated since we anticipate new
leadership at the Ukraine headquarters offices in the next few months. I have some angst regarding how the newcomers
will regard my status (or non-status).
Yes, I live in a
rather ambiguous situation, but then, don’t we all?
If there is one
thing my life has taught me in recent years, it is this: we do not know what is
ahead.
This realization can
be frightening or exhilarating or of no concern. We can choose how we will feel about our
future, but ultimately we can do little to change some of the events. Any sense of real control is actually an
illusion. It is important to remember
that some of the events one would not choose to experience may eventually
become an unexpected source of blessings.
Dealing with death
and dying, disease, disappointment – these things may slow us down and cause us
to stumble on our path, but the path remains and we can continue it with joy,
grateful for the beauty that has been ours and aware of how important it is to
go forward, to share with impunity, to live graciously with exuberance, and to genuinely
care. (I’ve learned to understand the
phrase, “I will not let thee go, except thou bless me,” and the Bible story
behind it and I am even more responsive to the complex and essential messages
shared by the authors of such children’s books as the Narnia series and “The
Little Prince.”)
Well, I have
clearly taken another track as my fingers dance across the keyboard this
morning. I sat down musing over a list
of about thirty amusing leadership and management maxims I have jotted down
over the past few months, but clearly, my head, or my heart, wants to spill
other thoughts onto this computer screen.
My spirit of
optimism, joy, enthusiasm and gratitude dominate today. Who knew that life could be so good? I will continue to go about my tasks and let
my helium balloon-ideas carry me somewhere unexpected. The article will be written and an audience
will be found.
·
Saturday, 11 March 2006
Teenage Beauty Queens in Crimea
The auditorium was
packed. Friends and family members came
prepared with bouquet of flowers for the beautiful young hopefuls gracing the
stage.
The Miss
Gracefulness of Kerch contest began and we were among the eager spectators
watching as the contestants performed. Two of the young women are members of our
English Club, secondary school students who love fashion and have such an
infectious joy for living.
We did not know
when we accepted the invitation to attend, that we would be viewing a beauty
pageant. We thought it was a fashion
show.
The participants
are lovely. They are fresh and
young. Much of their beauty comes simply
from the radiance of youth and not any particular structure or sophistication. It is fun to see these young girls laughing,
smiling. I view them almost as one does
a bunch of playful puppies or kittens.
Each is unique and charming. How
can one ever say, “This one – you are the most beautiful, the best, the
winner!”
I do not like
these contests. I do not want to see the
light go out in the eyes of those who do not “win”. I hope there will be no tears or worse, the
faces that harden and grow cold, because a part of them feels they are somehow
not good enough.
The evening
unfolds much as beauty pageants everywhere do.
There are dance numbers that make me uncomfortable as I watch them
perform in suggestive or revealing, costumes that make me think of scenes from
films like “Striptease”. Some of the
fathers and brothers and male friends avert their eyes, probably not knowing
where to look as the nubile girls go through their paces on the stage.