Monday, October 30, 2006

Pumpkin Head

Today I realized that tomorrow is Halloween. It won’t make much difference, since Halloween doesn’t seem to be celebrated here at all. An elementary Sunday school class from Dave’s home church sent us a cute handmade jack-o-lantern wall hanging, which we promptly hung on our apartment door. That will probably be the extent of our Halloween celebration. Even if we wanted to, carving jack-o-lanterns would be difficult, since I’ve never seen an actual orange, round pumpkin as we know them back home. Most of what I use as “pumpkin” for cooking is butternut or other kinds of squash. In Russian, all winter squash, including pumpkin, is called the same thing – tikva.

But even though Halloween is not commonly celebrated here, it might have a future, thanks to Amstor, the local supermarket. Today I went to Amstor for a few things, and pumpkin was on my list. As I reached the produce section, I noticed a bin with a bunch of round, cellophane-wrapped objects, and above them a display a large sign that said “Halloween” in English. Upon further inspection, I realized that the round objects, though they were a greenish-gray mottled color, were pumpkins. And they had mean-looking, jagged-featured carved faces. Underneath the sign was an explanation of Halloween and jack-o-lanterns (translated into Russian as “pumpkin heads”). The sign, in addition to explaining the history of Halloween and the purpose of jack-o-lanterns, said Halloween was celebrated all over the world, which was an interesting statement, since if it really was celebrated here, they wouldn’t need a sign to explain the holiday and persuade customers to buy pre-carved pumpkins. Maybe its celebrated everywhere but Ukraine. Or maybe the Soviets nixed it – the bad spirit world could have been just as threatening as the good one. Anyway, after the initial “cultural moment,” I was sad to find that the carved pumpkins were the only ones to be found in the produce section, save three gigantic squashes that would, if stood on end, reach above my knee. Not good for bus travel. So I left without a pumpkin or a pumpkin head. I’d like to go back to Amstor in early November and see how many have sold.

Laura

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Another Gas Crisis

Shortly after we got here, I bought a chainsaw. I did not think that this was an absolutely necessary tool for what I was supposed to be doing, but we did have some ground to clear in preparation for the garden and greenhouse projects. Some people from our churches back home had given us a little money for “personal use.” The macho part of me has always been attached to chainsaws, so I just had to convince Laura that this was what they had in mind when they had called it “personal” money.

I used the saw a bit then, and have used it several times since then to prepare wood for campfires and “shashliks,” which are the traditional Ukrainian barbeque (very tasty). But I never anticipated that others would get so much use out of it.

In the past month, people have been repeatedly borrowing it after work and on weekends to “help a babushka from church get ready for winter.” It has gotten plenty of use.

Before this, I hadn’t given it much thought, but last week I had an informative conversation with Valentina Chernova, the director at the Good Shepherd Center. We were talking about the rise in gas prices. I told her that my dad was paying about 20 percent more for propane this winter in Minnesota. She trumped that, saying that natural gas cost 147 percent more this winter than it did last winter. She said that the average pensioner receives $60-80 per month and, if winter temperatures are similar to last year’s, it will cost around $70 per month just to heat one of the small houses pensioners typically live in. Taras Dyatlik, the academic dean, told me that his in-laws have figured out that after both receiving their pensions, they will have $40 per month to live on.

I now understand why so many people are cutting wood.

Dave

Friday, October 13, 2006

Grape Season

I’ve written about the fruit in Ukraine before, but I never about the particular fruit now in season: grapes. Grapes were not a very big deal to me until I came to Ukraine. They were a salad accessory, that’s all. Here, in September and October, they are the glue, together with the standard cookies and tea, of social interaction.

Everyone who has the space has a grapevine, and about this time, they are overflowing. Because of this, we have been the lucky benefactors of several large bags of grapes. The first ones were dark blue, almost black, with a dusty haze that had been barely smudged when they were picked. They really were beautiful. And now I know where the taste for artificial grape flavoring comes from. These grapes were intensely flavored and were the perfect blend of sweet and tart – nothing like the one-dimensional, bland green or red table grapes in grocery stores at home. Since our first bag, we’ve sampled several other varieties, and I see many more at the market in all hues and shapes. Some have familiar wine names, like Muscat, and others are named after their looks – the other day someone told me about “Black Ladyfingers,” named after their elongated, pitch-black fruit.

The one thing that keeps me diligently eating more than my share of grapes every day is the fact that they have seeds. Dave is a bit of a seed snob, and would rather pass on these grapes, rather than sort and spit every mouthful. There is a seedless green variety of grapes from Turkey available at the local grocery store, but for some reason lack of seeds seems to mean lack of flavor. So when at home, I eat grapes by myself, although that’s certainly not the best way. Because it takes time to eat grapes with seeds, it can become a communal activity, like sipping tea or cracking nuts at Christmas, well-paired with a leisurely schedule and good conversation. Grape season corresponds well with birthday season among the English department staff - birthdays happen to be plentiful in the months of September and October. Olga, our resident grape supplier, never lets us down, and so we take some time to sit together, talk, eat birthday cake, and grapes.

Laura

Monday, October 09, 2006

Humanitarian aid















I've been meaning to post this picture for awhile. It's of the MCC container of material aid - canned turkey, clothing, health kits, etc. being unloaded at DCU in August. For the past several years, DCU has received a container like this one every fall, and this was the first time we happened to be around when it was unloaded. Recently each employee at DCU waited patiently in line to received a case of tushonka, (canned turkey) which was a blessing for everyone. This time of the year is always difficult financially for DCU, and since teachers haven't received their salaries for a couple months, they were especially grateful for the meat. Earlier this fall, both staff and students took their turn going through the clothing received in the shipment, also timely at the time when kids were needing back to school clothing and the season was changing. After being on the North American side of MCC's material aid projects - buying supplies for health kits and school kits, and helping with meat canning in SD and MN, it's good to be on the other side - and see it being used and appreciated by the recipients.

Laura

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Anya


I’m missing Anya. She was my student last year, and a dedicated one. Every Saturday, even when the freezing temperatures kept most other students home, she would come to class. Her English was already quite good, but it improved because she worked hard. She had a goal in mind. I don’t remember when we became friends, but eventually I was introduced to her boyfriend and we started spending time together. She was in the process of applying for a visa to work in the States. She had a good job in Donetsk, but wanted to improve her English and get more work experience in the service industry. She had a Ukrainian friend who was already living there, and she set her up with a job and a place to live. The job was waitressing at Outback Steakhouse. One night Anya came over with several pages of colorful pictures and food descriptions – the restaurant’s menu, which she printed from the Internet. Things like “vine-ripened tomatoes” and “a twist of lemon” and “Bloomin’ Onion” were highlighted in yellow, and we went through the menu, I explaining what each one meant while she took notes. Then it was the visa application and interview questions. She filled out forms and I checked them, and over and over we practiced the questions that might be asked during the visa interview at the American Embassy in Kiev. Meanwhile, we also did other things, besides filling out forms. A highlight was a trip to a nearby village where the parents of her boyfriend’s best friend lived. They treated us like kings and we stuffed ourselves with Ukrainian delicacies to the point of illness. We also tossed a Frisbee on a grassy hill, standing in a circle around a tethered goat, wandered through a nearby marsh and listened to Sergei’s endless music collection. And then she had her interview, got her visa, bought a plane ticket, said goodbye and left. For the first few weeks, we talked on Skype, but now that her documents are in order, she’s working two jobs – the steakhouse, plus a department store job, and has little time to do anything but eat, sleep and work. We’ll be back in the States before she comes back to Ukraine, and if she had the choice, I think she might stay. I’m happy for her, but am sad that she’s gone. Meanwhile, her boyfriend has taken a new job that involves a lot of travel, and is working like mad to fill up his time, so we rarely see him. He studies English in the leftover minutes of every day and hopes to join her as soon as his English is good enough.

Laura