One can live magnificently in
this world
if one knows how to work and
how to love.
- Leo Tolstoy
The Big Excursion…
At 0800, we boarded
the southbound marshutka and headed for the last stop on the line. Mark carried a rucksack laden with picnic
supplies, flashlights, the camera, jackets and everything else we needed for
the trip.
The Kerch Central
Library and branch offices are closed today because it is Library Day. All the employees are off on an excursion on
this fine fall holiday.
After a false
start (we boarded the wrong marshutka, but thanks to a mobile phone call we
resolved the problem) we found our way to the waiting group of 53 women. We all
clamored aboard a bus and after about half an hour bouncing down a narrow,
windswept road we arrived at the end of a narrow peninsula on a hilltop
overlooking the sea. The panorama was
beautiful!
Our guide assured
us we could ask her any question about the fortress and she would have answers
that would keep us interested as long as we could listen. No detail is too small to escape her
attention and she encourages us to ask questions as we stride along behind
her. She advises us that we will take an
express tour of the fortress so we will not have to exhaust ourselves with strenuous
walking. There is much to see, but we
will tour the underground munitions storage area, the barracks and kitchens,
the corridor, and the beach. There will
be many places where we can take stunning photographs.
L., the
interpreter/translator that recently began to work at the library part time,
has come on the excursion, though she is not fond of hiking or picnics. I am glad she is here to help me decipher the
guide’s comments and to talk with as we wander along the paths.
L. likes to read so
we engage in conversations about books.
I am delighted to hear her talk about reading “Gone With the Wind”. She admires Scarlett O’Hara for her
resilience. I mention “Anna Karenina”
and L. responds that she is not typical of Russian women and prefers “War and Peace”.
We talked about
movies too. I laughed when she mentioned
“The Blues Brothers” – a classic I guess.
She also enjoyed “Paulie” (sp?) – a rather charming, romantic comedy
about a parrot who becomes a matchmaker of sorts. Our good friend and housesitter J. loves that
film so it was interesting that L. mentioned it as a favorite of hers too. (She spoke of her own two parrots – sadly,
one died of cold and the other died of heat!)
W continued our
tour of the fortress which dates to the 1800’s.
It is built at the southern tip of the
It took the
soldiers and workmen only six months to construct the massive limestone
buildings.
This fortress was
occupied by Germans during the Great Patriotic War (what we know as WWII) and
there are chilling reminders in the graffiti etched into the walls.
At one point,
after considerable discussion and advice from the guide, we enter a dark tunnel
which circles around the complex. We are
told to grab hold of the person in front of us and to place our right hands on
the wall. A cautionary tale concerning
tourists who failed to follow directions gives us a healthy respect for the
adventure ahead.
Inside the tunnel
it is indeed, pitch black. The ceiling
is only inches from my head. We walk for
what seems a long time with no glimpses of light. It is claustrophobic.
L., whose hand I
am holding, begins to tremble. “Let’s go
back!” she squeaks in a small voice.
I put my arm
around her shoulders and speak calmly to her in a comforting tone. I remind her to breath and I share a tale
about my fear of heights. I repeat
assaying I recently heard: “When you are going through hell, keep on
going!” I laugh a bit and encourage her
to laugh too. I feel her relax a
bit. We are both glad when we reach the
end of the tunnel and come out into the bright sunshine.
The hike continues. We take lots of photos. The women find rose hips and black berries
and other wild snacks. Many of them
collect wild flowers and spices as we walk along. Mark picks up a few sea shells from the
beautiful, sandy beach.
As we walk, I
observe how the women are dressed. I
have not seen women dressed this casually in my experiences here in
L., and I continue
to talk – she speaks of her relatives who served in the Great Patriotic
War. Six million people, about 1/15th
of the population died in that war and this figure does not include the soldier
who died. Not many families survived
without a loss. The war was for the
Motherland and people wanted to serve.
L.’s grandfather was only 22, a young soldier, when he died. There was only one photograph of the
handsome, blue-eyed soldier. The young widow wife mailed the snapshot to her
dead husband’s sister and the photo disappeared without a trace, never arriving
at the destination. All that is left is
a memory of those blue eyes.
The terrain was
rugged, the sun hot, and the pace fairly swift. The wind off the sea kept us comfortable,
but we were all ready to stop when at last we returned to our picnic site.
The Picnic…
We settled on a
site under a large tree. It was obvious
these women have picnicked before. They
proceeded to spread out blankets and towels, covering a huge area. The library director shook out a large
tablecloth and spread it atop the blankets and immediately women began rather
unceremoniously emptying their bags onto the cloth.
They piled whole
tomatoes and fresh cucumbers, bowls of boiled potatoes, large sausages,
eggplant dishes, bags of salo, chunks of cheese, juicy apples, and much, much
more. Bottles emerged – several bottles
of vodka, some wine, a few bottles of water and a couple thermos’s filled with
chai found their place in the center of this impromptu table on the ground.
Tiny plastic
plates (the same ones used for tea parties at the library) were passed around
and small plastic cups ere doled out.
The feasting began, the vodka splashed into the cups and the toasting
began. Shortly after, the singing
began.
The women sang and
laughed and sang some more. A couple of
the women stretched out on their stomachs and sang and drank. The songs were lively and many of them
sounded sad. They asked us to share
American songs and when we were slow to respond they got us started on “God
Bless America” and even knew the second and third verses (much to our chagrin,
because we did not!).
Late in the
afternoon the bus arrived to take us back to town. And so ended the marvelous excursion with the
delightful ladies of the Kerch Library.
A Day all to Myself – Shoe Shopping Should
be Fun…
It is a beautiful
autumn day. There are a group of
regulars lingering at the outdoor café outside our window. I can hear their voices rumbling as they swap
stories and discuss politics. They sound
older. I cannot see them, but I smell
their cigars. I imagine they sip on
vodka, but perhaps they indulge in chai (tea).
From their seats
on the terrace, they can see the
There are many
public plazas and parks in this community.
There are pedestrian streets too. .
The chill winds
off the sea will remind us of how lucky we are to be in
I imagine in a few
short weeks the outdoor cafes may close for the season. In the park, the bars, discos, and amusement
rides are closing. The chairs are
stacked up and the umbrellas are gone.
The warm fall day is delightful, but the empty places foreshadow the
long days of winter.
I abandoned my
original plan to stay home this morning and departed the apartment about 8 AM
when Mark headed off to work. I walked
with him as far as the library.
I went to the open
air market or bazaar. Here in
Shoe shopping
should be fun. I love shoes and would
love to be shopping for a pair of wonderful boots, but walking shoes are a
challenge... Adding to the challenge is
my shoe size. I wear a size 9 ½ and,
like in
Inexpensive shoes
cost 50-150 grivna (about $10-$30…plastic) and better shoes run 200-500 grivna
(about $40-$100…leather). Most shoes
have very pointed toes. They often have
lots of bling-bling – rhinestones and glitter are fairly common on shoes (and
clothes). Even some of the sports shoes
have stiletto heels.
Meeting More People…Lunch and Later the
Library’s English Club…
We are back from
yet another luncheon where I had the opportunity to meet more people Mark works
with. The business and work luncheons are not like our American
ones. The table is set with glass dishes, table cloth and tea
service. The director served us three courses - a dish made with
delectable mussels and rice, a tasty salad course of tomatoes, onions, etc with
a little sour cream dressing, a course of fresh fruits (apples, melon and
grapes) and finally a box of excellent chocolates with a bit of smooth brandy
for dessert. This is a mid-day luncheon at work. The brandy started the
meal (the obligatory toasts) and appeared throughout the experience. The
Ukrainian way is to be hospitable and they show their hospitality with food and
drink.
Later today we will head back to the library for English Club where there will
be more food - cookies and tea most likely.
Despite all the eating, people are generally slim and fit looking here.
Enroute home, Mark and I stopped at a second hand shop and inventoried the
available clothing items. Mark bought a lovely full length rabbit fur
coat for me (about thirty dollars) which will protect me from the sea winds
when winter settles in. People here commonly wear furs, but it feels a
bit ostentatious (and for me, out of character). And of course I will
need a suitable hat, scarf and boots now
since mine are not appropriate or attractive with the new coat. The
saying "...beware of enterprises which require new clothing..." seems
apropos here.
We also stopped at a furniture store and looked at dressers, tables and
shelves. We have plenty of chairs in our apartment, but no storage
space. My oversized luggage is covered with a bit of fabric and does dual
purpose as a coffee table (sound familiar?)
and a place to store clothing. We have not found used furniture
stores, but by American prices (and American salaries), things are actually
very inexpensive. (By Crimean standards and wages, prices are very high.)
We are living on a
salary that is similar to what Crimean’s earn so we must be cognizant of this
when we make our spending decisions. The
stove I the apartment is adequate (an old two burners model) and the one table
and shelf are not attractive, but functional. A cheery tablecloth helps.
We may make a few purchases, but today we just looked. There is not much
room in our small home for any additional furniture actually.
Earlier I mentioned my old asthmatic “friend” in the dark, cave-like entryway
to our apartment - I am referring to the
refrigerator that wheezes and shudders as if it is dying. A friend observed,
"...you ought to name the refrigerator. It sounds like an old
Russian character---wheezing and moaning---sitting in a dark hallway
with a bottle of vodka tucked out of sight."
I believe I shall
name him Ivan Ivanovich. It, or should I
say he, really is a scary looking appliance. Another volunteer I know
says her refrigerator dances - it vibrates so much it comes unplugged!
8-)
I have done a few loads of laundry already - this involves scrubbing clothes in
a tub and wringing them by hand and hanging them out to dry. I find it is
best to wash a few things every day. It is time for me to bring the
laundry in before we go to English Club.
I look forward to getting our website up to speed...it is a bit neglected like
a garden in need of attention...pruning and cultivating, etc... I want to
post photos and journal entries there.
The gift of time will help make these things happen.
The greatest gift one can
give is thanksgiving.
In giving gifts, we give what
we can spare,
but in giving thanks we give
ourselves.
- David Steindl-Rast
Hanging Out the Laundry…Meeting the Staff…
Mother always
enjoyed hanging the laundry on the clothesline.
She viewed it as an opportunity to be outdoors; a chance to feel the
warm sun on her skin; a time to smell sweet smells from the flower beds and
hear the neighborhood children at their games.
“The sun provides
you with Vitamin D,” she often reminded me.
Her slim arms were strong and firm.
There was no need
to go to the gym back in the days before everyone had washing machines and
driers, vacuum cleaners and prepared foods.
A homemaker could maintain a very healthy fitness regime simply
accomplishing the daily chores. A walk
to the market and the post office or the library or school added another
element to this healthy routine.
Why am I thinking
these thoughts? They came to me as I
hung out my first load of laundry in our home here in
In
Hand washing
clothes - I know from personal experience, doing the laundry by hand demands
some stamina! During training, our hosts
taught us the rudiments of laundry and of course the PCVs discussed this
challenge during breaks in our language classes. I imagine a scrub board would be useful, but
no one seems to use them nor is there evidence of them in the marketplace.
I started the
process last night when I soaked several t-shirts in a pan of cold, soapy water
and also soaked a couple pair of trousers in a pan of suds. .
After a long soak (an hour or so usually, but in this case, overnight),
I returned to start the rinse cycle.
This involves removing all the suds from the fabric. I turn on the cold water and added fresh
water. I squeeze the fabric and swirl it
about. I add more fresh water and wring
the garments a bit.
Finally I begin
the “spin cycle” – I wring the clothes by hand.
This is a demanding task which is great for building the upper-body and
arms and the hands too. I squeeze and wring,
wring and squeeze. Water pours out, but
there is always more lurking deep inside.
Jeans are particularly hard to wring out! Once I am exhausted or have determined the
clothes are dry enough to hang on the line, I venture out to the
clothesline.
There is a small
line adjacent to the sidewalk leading to our entryway. The line is inside a small fenced piece of
yard and affords a little security. I do
not want my favorite jeans to “take a walk” nor do I like to hang my personal
undergarments out for all the world to see, so I am glad for this clothesline. It is, however, very close to the building so
air does not circulate well here. It
stretches above some abandoned raspberry canes which claw at me as I make my
way to the line.
I begin pinning
the clothes onto the line, stretching to reach for pins and garments. The sun feels good. I smile as I watch the neighborhood kittens
scrambling about in the courtyard. I
think about my mother and how she accomplished these tasks with patience,
humility and also with joy. She found
pleasure in these simple acts and spoke of her gratitude.
“I like to hang
out the clothes. It is a chance to be
outdoors,” she said and I believe she
did.
This morning I met
the central library staff. There are
about 23 women there and all were eager to meet the woman who has such a hold
on their PCV, whom they are already quite fond of.
I hope they were
not disappointed.
It was a typically
Ukrainian/Crimean meeting: tea was served along with lovely torts. There was a speech welcoming me and they
presented me with three red roses, a
I really broke the
ice, when in the course of conversation I announced that I had been in the US
Air Force for over twenty years. I
followed up my remark with an example of how a drill sergeant might bark at
recalcitrant troops. Hearing that loud,
commanding voice escape from my rather demure figure made them laugh.
We lingered over
second cups of tea and discussed our excursion plans for Friday; we will hike
to a fortress and then picnic. Friday is
Ukrainian Library Day. The library will
be closed and all the employees will join in the excursion.
Anachronism – the only bathroom at the library is a
uni-sex pit toilet in the basement while upstairs the well-dressed director and
Mark refine plans to introduce a DSL line for better Internet access…
Observation – Stocking a kitchen with staples is
different here since many items are fresh and seasonal (time to develop some
canning skills!). Kitchens have almost
no storage or counter space. Buying in
bulk is not typical – people walk to market and tote everything home.
Happiness makes up in height
for what it lacks in length.
- Robert Frost
(Extracted from an E-Mail)
I am perched on
the sturdy Soviet-era couch that graces the living room of our rather Spartan,
small apartment. We arrived here in
It is good to be home. Home is where my heart is and that is with my
husband.
This is the first time in almost a year I have really felt at home
anywhere!
Mark and I spent the weekend getting reacquainted, going through our things and
re-arranging the apartment to suit us. We are in dire need of a
dresser and/or a wardrobe and/or shelves.
We have one room
plus a tiny kitchen, WC, toilet, and a cave-like, entryway where our ancient,
very rusty refrigerator resides, wheezing and moaning and acting close to
death. We have a little patch of yard outside one of our windows where a
patch of raspberries crowds out everything else, and the other
window opens next to the terrace of the local grocery/bar. Out each
window (we have only two) I can see cats, cats, cats...the city park is across
the street and the
Sunday we wandered the local outdoor market and compiled lists of small things
we will need. Some things just are not common - who would think paper
towels would be hard to find? An indoor
clothesline is a must for rainy days, but I didn’t find anything suitable or
anyway to jerry rig something. We wash clothes by hand and line-dry them
these days. Our neighbors have a chance to see all our American clothes
on the line - we have so many clothes and locals are a bit askance about
that. Here people look for quality
clothes and own far fewer items. They care for them well too. I
will be self-conscious hanging my clothes outside.
Mark has already arranged for me to meet all the people he has been getting
acquainted with here so my schedule is suddenly not my own again! People
are curious about the new American in town so my limited Russian skills will
get a workout! I meet library staff tomorrow, dine with the regional
manager Wednesday and meet the English club that day too. There are
friends to meet with also and the former host family, etc. Tonight I am
drafting a letter for one of Mark's projects.
I do look forward to having time to observe, think and write, but that time
will come. I am just glad to be here and moving forward again.
Being patient, remaining confident and positive under duress seem to be
essential skills to cultivate in any endeavor one pursues.
I am happy.
FYI - My e-mail is being downloaded onto a flash drive/memory stick and brought
home to me. This delays answers and is a bit primitive, but allows me the
luxury of reading and writing my mail in my jammies with a cup of coffee nearby
rather than counting down the minutes and speed-typing at an Internet
Cafe. Mark has Internet access so photos will follow in days to come.
The Market, Round Two…
Rearranging Furniture & Off to the
Market…
Arriving Home…a Walking Tour of Town…
The Train Ride South – 24-Hours…
I arrived safely
at the airport in
As I pushed my
baggage cart through the doorway, I was elated to see my husband’s smiling face
in the crowd. He swept me into his arms
and the months of separation melted away like a bad dream.
He presented me
with a large bouquet of long stemmed yellow roses, an odd number of course, as
is the local tradition. I felt like a
movie star with the flowers and all my baggage.
We spent the night
at the contract quarters used by the PC and began to catch up on all the things
we had to share with one another during our months apart.
Thursday morning
we visited the PC offices where Mark had a short IT meeting and I caught up on
e-mail. We spent the afternoon wandering
about in beautiful
Early in the
evening we headed over to the train station and settled into our cozy
compartment. We picnicked and sipped
wine as the countryside swept by outside.
Just before bedtime the conductor brought us hot tea.
On the Road Again…
My wayward bags
are back and all is well with the world.
My long journey is almost over.
In a matter of hours I will be listening to my husband’s heartbeat as he
presses me close and whispers sweet words in my ear.
The odd couple (my
enormous, overweight, monster bag and the small, but heavy, overnight bag
filled with books) found their way to
That large, black
bag is an embarrassment frankly.
It really is
oversized and well over the weight standards prescribed by the airline. It also draws the attention of others in a
way that makes me feel like an obnoxious American who cannot travel without all
my “necessities”.
It is true I will
be out of the States for two years, but there are stores in
Storing the bag
will be a challenge too. The apartment
is very small and closets are not common.
The big bag will sit in the corner of my one room apartment, shaming me
everyday for the next few years…sigh…hmmmm, perhaps we can throw something over
it and call it a coffee table…
Yikes – how will I
get it in the taxi cab? Ukrainian cars
are smaller, more practical…perhaps they will strap it to the roof…stay tuned
for the continuing adventures! 8-)
Oh wheeeere is my luggage, oh wheeeere is
my luggage, oh where, oh where, oh where, is my luggage? (Sung to the Tune of
“Oh Where is my Hairbrush?”)
I have a pretty
good idea where my embarrassingly large bag and its tiny red companion are
delayed, but the woman at the counter does not care to speculate. She is good humored really, but is sticking
to the immediate business at hand as she asks me to complete several forms
describing the baggage and inventorying contents. I read the “legalese” regarding liability and
sign my name.
I set down the pen
with a sigh and a smile. I have found
smiles and good humor are helpful in most any situation, but seem especially
valuable in the airport environment.
Even if the service provider is not influenced by a positive attitude,
it makes me feel better to find some humor to cling to.
After documenting
my lost luggage, I explore the sky mall at
The lobby is large
and is dominated by an enormous fireplace.
There are tall, pillar candles burning everywhere. The lobby projects the ambience of a castle
or perhaps a large hunting lodge. I
quickly check in and take a glass elevator to my room.
My room is bright
and airy with a terrace overlooking a park-like area. There is a huge bathtub and a separate shower
with extra nozzles. The bath towels are
large and very soft and thick. The is
cable television. I stretch out on the
bed and doze fitfully while the TV chatters away in some language I do not
recognize. Later, I awake and watch
Oprah conducting an interview with some celebrity. She speaks another language and the dubbed
voice is distorted and does not match Oprah’s own voice at all.
Rested, I make my
way to the lobby where I purchase an Internet card and check my e-mail. Later I consider venturing into the city but
decide to simply dine in the restaurant.
My morning flight will require me to be up early and I want to be rested
so an early evening is best.
Dining alone is an
art to cultivate. I recommend it
actually, though it does take some bravado or at least confidence. The dining room is rather elegant and caters
to people who are accustomed to fine dining.
The tables are set with china and each has an inviting candle.
I am soon seated
and order a glass of wine to sip as I peruse the menu. I settle on a grilled salmon entrée and
settle in to watching people as I wait for my meal to arrive. I enjoy the time to think and observe.
The meal arrives
and is delightfully prepared with special attention to presentation. I relish the flavors and textures and
thoroughly enjoy the experience. When I
finish my entrée, I order coffee and ask the waiter to bring me something
sweet, perhaps a chocolate or something.
He indulges me by bringing a small silver tray with several chocolates
and a couple cookies. I relax over
coffee and continue to watch the other patrons as they talk and dine.
By this time
tomorrow, I will be in
“Last Night I went to sleep in
This is my
mother’s birthday. She died just over a
year ago. This trip is part of the
legacy she left me.
When I first
learned my Peace Corps adventure would be terminated due to the surgery last
spring, I was devastated. My dream was
dying before my eyes. Then it occurred
to me I could simply join my spouse in
About this time I
received an e-mail advising me that my mother’s estate had been settled. That unexpected money would cover my expenses
and permit me to move forward with my plan.
That was back in
June. Now I am healed from my surgery
and on my way to join my spouse in our little apartment on the shores of the
I think Mother
would be pleased.
Yesterday when we
arrived at the airport, we met with a helpful man. The airline service representative is a cheerful,
friendly man. He is originally from
I hoist my first
piece of check-on baggage onto the scale.
The small, but heavy bag filled with books weighs in at about 38
pounds. He tags it and reaches for the
enormous black bag. I see his eyes get
bigger as he takes in the situation – this bag is clearly oversize and
overweight. There is a moment when it
looks like the bag will be checked with no problem, but and eagle-eyed TSA
agent wanders over and observes the monster bag in question. He slaps a bright orange “Heavy Object” tag
on it. The best my new friend can do is
to say the bag weighs in at only 70 pounds (in reality it is embarrassingly
close to 80 pounds) which means I pay only a penalty ($20) rather than an
overage fee ($150). My bags are also
checked through to
There are kind
people in the world and I am grateful for that.
We board the plane
and travel to a motel in
Monday I manage to
get the very last seat on the Airbus.
There is a delay while some baggage is removed from the plain – it
occurs to me that it could be my bags since my travel companion did not board
the plane and my bags were listed under her name. We shall see!
Sudden Changes at the Last Minute –
Overloaded & Onward to
It appears the
whole country has plans to be in
What is the draw
in
Flying standby, is
a bit like gambling. Sometimes you just
have to bluff.
I am glad my
flight from
So, plans
change. We plot this like a military
maneuver. If we fly today, we can begin
our standby vigil early on Monday and possibly catch a flight. If all fails, we can return to MPLS and board
a DC-10 to
We will leave in
just a few hours rather than tomorrow so I must finish the tedious and
challenging task of packing my bags. Too
many things. So many decisions. I like to travel light so the drama of packing
creates a myriad of strong emotions in me…I am cross and grumpy and then I
laugh at it all.
For a few minutes
I believe I will just pack a carry-on bag and call it a day…who needs all this
accumulated stuff?
When I came to the
States from
I shove everything
into the enormous wheeled bag and zip it shut.
I bag up the books in an overnight bag – small but very heavy. I put the two computers in a wheeled carry on
bag with several clothing changes. I
quickly do the bag drag out to the living room before I have time to change my
mind again. I left behind a bag full of
things and a second set of defective luggage.
We enlisted my
cousin’s son, a serious athlete, to finagle the enormous bag into the backseat
of the car and eventually we headed off to the airport for the start of the
trip “home”.
Cousin Carol Shops for Shoes…
Carol is missing
one of her dress shoes. A certain puppy
may have chewed it up or perhaps another of the dogs simply buried it, but it
has disappeared from the household.
Today we set out to find a suitable replacement pair for the upcoming
trip to
I am off to a slow
start here, though I had my bowl of cereal and am sipping coffee. The
weather here in
I have been leaving the radio in the bedroom on all the time, even when I
sleep. It keeps me from hearing other sounds in the house and I like waking
up to my NPR friends and their stories.
I always wonder if the radio influences my dreams since I am subconsciously
listening to reports throughout the night.
I plan to head back upstairs to sort clothes and plan what to put in carry one
and what to wear, etc. There are
logistical problems that are more intimidating when traveling alone with
lots of luggage. I will probably have to collect my luggage in
My "Russian in 10 Minutes a Day" and my "Russian for
Dummies" books have graced my bedside table all summer, but somehow I
never absorbed much from them. I guess I will learn under field
conditions. I may learn better without the competitiveness and
pressure induced in a classroom.
I have aged during
this “exile”. I am getting very grey and
the grey hairs are wiry and
recalcitrant. I have fattened up a bit, but I needed to. I keep my
glasses on most of the time, but I hate how they make me feel and look....I
look in the mirror and wonder who that old person is. Oh well...inside I
am still youthful and oblivious to the passing of time...
Thoughts on Packing & Apartment Life…
I am taking a
break from packing.
I guess I am a
typical American - I have too many things. I hate having to struggle with
a lot of stuff when I travel, but of course I have the urge to take many things
because I know I will miss them and similar things will not/may not be
available.
Of course people live full, rich lives in
For the next two years I should try to live like my peers in
I mean really, how many pairs of shoes does one person need? Most people
there manage quite happily with only a few changes of clothing, yet they are
generally well dressed and meticulous about their appearances. Shoes are
shined and clean, hair done, make up applied and clothing well
constructed, pressed nicely. They do seem to over-dress when they
are out in public - life seems to be a cocktail party in progress!
I shared photos of the apartment with friends and family. My sister Janeen observed that the sinks in
the photos of the apartment seem small - what about dishes, hair washing and
laundry?
Well, dishes and
laundry usually involve a large pan/tub of some sort and shampoos are part of
showering or you can always go to the beauty shop which women do there. People
do not wash their hair or shower on a daily basis there generally. Life
there is like it may have been in the 50s here in the
Well, I must get back to editing what I will take with me and what I can leave
behind. There are things I will wish for I am sure - bath towels in
More rambling
later I am sure...gotta go through a stack of papers too...sigh..Time is flying
though and I am glad of that!
Breakfast with a Couple Local RPCVs …
I spent much of
today with the delightful parents of a PCV who is in my training group in
We lingered over
coffee at a local restaurant and got acquainted. The couple served in Pace Corps back in the
70’s and shared tales of their own adventures with me. I shared some of my experiences in
After breakfast we
dropped off the woman and the husband and I went in search of the local
delivery service recommended by other PCVs in
Among PCVs, there
is a saying that advises that if you can at least accomplish one activity each
day, it is a successful day. This sounds
like they are aiming rather low, but when you are dealing with another culture,
you must have great patience and perseverance.
You save your energy for the big battles and simply try to remain calm
and relatively cheerful. It is a good
day if you show up for work and accomplish one item on your checklist. I might add, and do not lose your good-humor.
We headed off to
lunch and called it a day.
Ramblings as I Wait in
Here in
In just a few days
I will be winging my way to
We spend so much
time apart, pining to be together.
Somehow, when we married, I thought my life would unfold in an orderly
fashion and my husband and I would be together night and day as we
happily-ever-aftered. I seem to have
been very wrong.
During the course
of our delightful marriage, we have spent far too many days, weeks, months
apart. We learn much about one another,
yet this is not great compensation as I wend my way back to the bedroom after a
warm shower, only to crawl between the clean, fresh sheets alone.
The latest
separation really is finally in the home stretch. The visa arrived yesterday and my task on
this fine almost-autumn day was to obtain airline tickets so I can cross the
ocean to the country my husband has called home for the last several
months. By this time next week, I will
be in
It appears we will
take the train south to our new hometown by the
This language bond
will be alternately exhilarating and frustrating too. We will be the local English “experts”. There will be others who lust for language
skills that we possess. Others will look
at us with disdain because we will not speak the local tongue with expertise or
even competence.
I look at the
clock and see that I have two more hours before I can hope to find answers o
the daily flurry of e-mail I have sent out into the virtual world for my
husband to decipher and respond to. He
will discover, when he sits down at the Internet café or his work station at
work, that I had hoped to call him today
and that the international phone card failed to live up to its promise. He will discover that I considered flying to
Eventually he will
finish his reading and tap out a tender reply to me. His first-thing-in-the-morning notes will be
my last-thing-before bed ritual. As I
sign off from my web mail account I will tenderly, tuck sweet words into my
heart to warm me through the night ahead.
If we lived together, in a perfect word, he would curl up beside me, but
would I have his sweet notes, his private thoughts spelled out for me to ponder
and dream about? Would sleep simply
cradle us for the night or would we share our thoughts, our dreams, our fears?
How many time
zones separate us, but how close he seems.
Watching the Pack…
With three large,
active dogs and a couple big cats in residence, there are not many moments when
interactions are one-on-one here.
Tonight
I watch him as he
stays at his post each day. If anyone
has the audacity to walk past this suburban home, he leaps to his feet and
alarms the household of this threat. He
is reliable, a consummate professional, but somehow I sense that this role is
not one he is really comfortable with.
Somehow, he sees this job as necessary.
He assumes the position. He sacrifices his own preferences and
enjoyments to make sure this house in a
Now the family is
at rest – the people are sleeping and the cats and dogs have been fed, watered
and exercised. They have found their
beds (several sleep in comfort on the bed near their owner/favorite human in
the world). It is late and I am
alone, I am typing by the light of my
laptop’s screen. Suddenly
I pause a moment,
a respectful observer, and then I whisper his name. “
I hear his
dog-tags jingle as he jumps to his feet.
A warm, wet tongue licks at my hand and I see light reflecting off the
warm brown eyes that gaze up at me.
I feel privileged
to see
Addendum: Suburban paranoia
rears its ugly head. I am wakened from a dead sleep as a piercing siren splits
the night with sound and continues to shriek for almost and hour.
Outside, I observe
no rain, no wind, nothing. Carol
shepherds me down to the lower level of the split-level I currently call
home. I turn on the large TV and use the
remote to surf through channels and find weather related stories. I finally settle on the channel that airs
Letterman, a fine diversion to engage me between weather updates. I alternate between it and the channel that
airs Leno. Across the bottom of the
screen, tiny words scroll by at a fast pace.
These sentences detail all the weather concerns that should explain why
I am awake and watching TV in the middle of the night.
Somehow, the TV
fails to explain why the siren has been screaming. Outside there seems to be nothing
extraordinary going on. In fact, there
is no rain or wind.
On TV, I watch
beautiful celebrities and folks like Dr Phil prattering away, oblivious to what
is going on in the
I stroke the cat,
hear his purr, channel surf and simply wait. When the clock strikes midnight, I
wander back up to bed and sleep until the sun comes up to start a new day.
I still wonder why
the sirens went off.
Half-Price Books: Heavy Duty Shopping…
Oh dear – I have
soooo many books to tote with me to
There will be few
books available in English so this seems like a logical thing to take
especially since both Mark and I are avid readers. Both of us are seldom seen without a book in
hand. The visit to a local half-price
book store started out innocently, but my cousin and I ended up with quite a
stack of books by the time we cashed out at the register. This store was a wealth of books by Russian
authors and many of those books followed us home.
Steinbeck once
made a trip to
OK, so we splurged
on some books, well, unfortunately this is not the first time! Cousin, sweet cousin, scored a few purchases
off E-Bay that include tomes about
Oh yes, we also
discovered a remarkable used book store during our
That hundred pound
weight limit is filling up fast! (I am
probably over capacity already!)
Goodwill Shopping…
I got some great
deals at the local Goodwill Store! Not
the haul I made a few weeks ago in
I found several
cozy sweaters that insisted I take them home.
I hope
I go back and
forth regarding this rationalization.
I really do prefer
to travel light, but I saw the clothing choices in the
The climate
creates a few questions relevant to packing.
I am not certain about the actual climate I face in
My new sweaters