Wrapping up with number 200

Well, our time in Ukraine has come and gone. This will probably be my last blog from Donetsk. How nice to end on such a nice round number. We leave town on the train on Sunday and leave Kiev crazy-early on Tuesday morning. The last weeks have been peppered with invitations for meals and good-byes with so many people who have cumulatively added up to our life here these past years. And this "good-bye schedule" has been turned up a notch these last days. We still have two more days of this, so I can't really wrap it up, but I don't think that I will be able to find much time to update again from here out.

In the course of these gatherings, the questions always come up: are we "ready to leave and are we leaving "in general" or "forever." I want to respond with an emphatic "No, I'm not ready to leave" or "No, not for good" but it is hard for me. In all honesty I am pretty much ready to start the next chapter in life and therefore I am ready to leave by default. And these good-byes have been especially difficult because we don't know if/when we will be coming back to see these people again. We would like to come back, but with 3-4 years of study in the immediate future and without a specific trip date in mind it is difficult to say anything for certain.

But to not respond with one of these "emphatic responses" seems to belittle the experience; to say it wasn't great and we didn't appreciate these people and the part of their lives they have shown us. And that isn't the case at all. We have been stretched in ways that we never knew we would bend. To say it has all been great and enjoyable would be stretching the truth in that same way. But overall it has been, as I find myself oftentimes saying in Russian, a "miraculous experience" (somehow it doesn't sound as cheese as it does in English).

I have gotten to meet and talk with people whose stories I had only read about in North America. Through these conversations these stories and heroes became real to me. I have grown from the faith and values of the many people I have worked/traveled/played with in ways I will never really be able to put my finger on. I have felt like I have been on a MCC scholarship these past years and I could summarize the education I have received in a long, boring blog (maybe I already have).

Have I had a positive effect on these people? I hope so, probably not as much as they have affected me, but nonetheless I think that I have been honest, flexible, and willing to help in any way I have been able. I have tried to be both real and optimistic, even if this was oftentimes a struggle. And I have provided them with plenty of laughs, with my "ease of speaking/lack of attentiveness to grammar" combo.

The optimist in me wants to say that I/we will be back. This would help to emphasize the many "thank you's" that I find myself saying. We both hope to come back, one option might be to teach at the Summer English Intensive that Laura has spent so much time and effort planning. And maybe come early or stay late and help out with some camps for the Good Shepherd kids. So, I guess the only question really is when.

Dave

Training

I met the Prytup family today. Pavel is going to spend 50% time at Good Shepherd and 50% time with the MCC Income Generation projects. Betsy is going to spend 50% time at Good Shpeherd and 50% time at home with their two small children.

I printed some documents to help in the discussion, especially in regards to the income generation responsibilities and have also had some time for informal discussion. Talking to them, even though they have a lot of epxerience in this part of the world (Pavel grew up in the USSR and former-USSR and they have visited many times in the past years) and are also more qualified to do what I have been trying to do these past years (Pavel has a Masters in International development and Betsy worked in a children's home in Ohio), reminds me a lot of what it was like for me almost three years ago.

Countless questions were swimming around in my head.. What was I going to DO for three years here? Who are these people and will I ever get to know any of them? What's the difference between all the different types of Baptists here? What is Orthodoxy? How will I work with these people and would my job description evolve? And also little things like will our electronic items work on 220-volt curent? Would we have to buy all our water? And the list went on and on.

And now, here we are getting ready to go home and here are these people in shoes similar to the ones we were in not that long ago. And they have questions too. Questions about things I mostly take for granted. How many of these questions have I really found answers accurate enough to give them a decent response, and how many un-understood things have I just grown accustomed to not knowing the answer to or the reason for?

I remember the people I appreciated the most in those first weeks/months. I won't name names, but they were the ones patient enough to answer my oftentimes ridiculous-seeming questions, empathetic enough to realize I woundn't understand everything at once so simple answers were necessary (even if they didn't always give the entire picture), and honest enough to say "I have no idea" when that was clearly or even not so clearly the case.

Helping these new people in their transition will probably be a great way to process and bring closure to my own time here. And I hope that I will be as patient, empathetic, and honest enough to follow the examples of those who I so greatly appreciated about three years ago. I probably won't, but maybe these new coworkers will be forgiving. I'll probably learn more from them than they will from me. And they only have to put up with me for a week-and-a-half. Unfortunately, sometimes it will be in large doses. Poor newcomers.

Dave

Moving Day

Yesterday we were able to move all our furniture from our apartment on the fourth floor to an apartment in Makeevka, not far from Good Shepherd, where the Prytups are going to live. It was a full day that turned out to be a bit more than I had personally bargained for.

Of course our building doesn't have an elevator, and I won't complain about that. Seven flights of stairs is not too difficult when there are six kids who are just starting work for the day and are also looking to show each other how tough they are and how fast they can move things out the front door. The trouble came when we arrived at the other apartment building, or shortly thereafter. These coworkers will live on the eighth floor of a 9-storey building. All such buildings were built standard with elevators, small but functional.

We took up the first three loads via elevator and all was going well. Andre arrived at the first floor, the door opened and the light went out in the elevator-car. Fortunately the door remained open (for the rest of the afternoon) so he could get out and the lights in the corridor were also still on. We began to take the bigger items (that wouldn't have fit in the elevator anyway) up the stairs, while one of the locals went to call someone and "see if he could get it turned on again."

This is where the story gets strange (at least in my opinion). Apparently there is an "operator" for each block of elevators, whose job it is to monitor the electric meters and shut off the elevators if they are getting used "too much." Fortunate for whoever pays the electric bill, this person was on his/her game yesterday and shut it down just in time. I was also told that it was also possible that someone from the building called the operator to "inform" on us. Why someone would do this, I don't know. And why the operator would shut it off, also a mystery. I guess that if this is the person's job and he/she has the power then he/she is more than happy to use it every once in a while.

We were told that the operator would turn the elevator back on shortly and most people wanted to wait it out. I am not sure what sort of past experiences those who preferred to wait have had, but apparently their understanding of the word "shortly" is not the same as the meaning that I have come to these past years here.

A couple of us continued the carrying and I also began to investigate this idea of an "elevator operator." One of the guys there had moved into his apartment 25 years ago and told me that these elevators were not "cargo elevators" (like the ones that were standard in 16-floor apartments) and therefore were not to be used "so often." We never even got close to the 325 kg. maximum, but apparently it is more a problem of the elevator being forced to repeatedly do what it was made to do or something. Anyway, way back when, when this guy was moving he had tracked down the operator and given her a little money to keep the elevator on. I wished he knew where to find the operator yesterday and "grease his/her palm."

We finished our 20 or so trips up the seemingly endless number of flights of stairs and as we left I checked--the elevator door was still open with the light off. For all I know it's still that way today; at least I can "feel the burn" in my arms, back and legs.

Dave

End of Term Preparation

Today I started to work on my “End of Term Report” for MCC and I read “A Re-entry Manual” for overseas workers. With a little over one month left, I guess it’s time. The last months have flown by and I am sure this next one will go even quicker.

We were supposed to start this process back in May, when we participated in our last annual retreat. At that time we gave little reflections and had meetings with the area directors, but it just didn’t feel right. How can one reflect on the whole time when there are still three months left to go? I wasn’t ready for such activities; it seemed too early. After that local people began asking “when are you leaving?” as the first question after the standard greetings. Again, I just wasn’t ready.

After having taken the Crimea trip (the topic of the previous entry), I have started to feel like I am ready to think about leaving. I still want to be here until that last day, but I realize that leaving is a process and needs to be done over time so we can have closure with as many activities and people as possible.

So, what does the schedule for the next month look like? Laura will be finishing out her English intensive responsibilities by July 29. Sometime during that time we will also pack up our two suitcases each and move out of our apartment. From then until the end we will be living in a house of some friends of ours who will be on vacation. We will head to Zaporozhye on the 30^th for a picnic/farewell that afternoon; also spending the 31^st there for “end of term” evaluations with our country representative. After we return to Donetsk we will move our furniture and home furnishings to an apartment in Makeevka where the new MCC workers will live. They will arrive in country on the 4^th and in Makeevka a few days later. We will do as much of the moving in process as we can before they get here to help them with their transition. I will do some traveling and have some meetings with the new Income Generation worker, and we will leave Donetsk (by train) on August 19^th. We will spend a day in Kiev and fly out at 6:30am on August 21^st. It’s coming fast.

So, that’s it in a nutshell. I hope there will be more reflections to come.

Dave

Crimea Trip

Crimea seems to be the place where everyone in the Former Soviet Union goes “to relax” on vacation. It is the southernmost peninsula in Ukraine, and is an “autonomous republic.” I am not sure what that means exactly, but I have heard it has to do with the fact that many residents are ethnic Russians and would rather not be associated with Ukraine. I won’t get into politics—that isn’t something I know much about—but after having been to Crimea, I can understand why the land has been fought over by so many nations and peoples in the past. Crimea is incredibly beautiful.

I traveled there on July second for a meeting with partners at a correctional facility where MCC has financed the construction of a greenhouse. After the meeting, I met up with two educators and 10 kids from Good Shepherd for a week of relaxing and seeing some of the Crimean sites. We traveled to Laspi, a small resort community between the cities of Sevastopol and Yalta. It is situated on a sliver of pebble beaches sandwiched between some mountains and the sea. I have heard it referred to as the “most beautiful place in Crimea” and, from my limited exposure to the area, I would not argue.

We set up our four tents on the beach and slept there six nights. During the days, we spent some time at the beach; the water was clear, blue and very deep in places quite near shore. There was nice variety, a couple of days there were some strong waves to play in and a couple of days it was almost completely calm. It was a pebble beach, which meant it was sometimes painful to bare feet, but there were a lot of boulders not far from shore that a sand beach probably wouldn’t have. We swam out to these boulders and had great fun jumping/diving into the sea.

We also tried to take at least one excursion each day to different interesting places in the area. Sometimes getting the kids to travel to these places was like pulling teeth, but they were usually glad they came. These places seemed like a different world when compared with industrial Makeevka.

As the pictures indicate, we visited the ancient cave cities of Mangup and Eski-Kermen, which supposedly date back over 6,000 years. There were over 200 caves in each of these communities and we made it a point to enter as many as possible. It was fun to speculate who lived there, when and what each room was for. There were oftentimes great views from the windows; the cities were situated on some pretty tall cliffs.

We climbed a 1,600-foot mountain—called Kush-Kaya—that was directly behind our campsite on the beach. There, as the last picture suggests, we experienced some unbelievable views. Some of us could have stayed up there for hours, but a couple of the teenaged boys have attention spans similar to my own when I was that age… we were there about 15 minutes.

Our daily devotions were taken from Galatians 5 and Colossians 3 and the topic was “building and strengthening (the Christian) community.” We talked about how much emphasis Paul placed on ththis topic and how sometimes we get caught up in individualism and forget those around us. These times of discussion and reflection were a highlight for me and, by the end of the week, many of the kids opened up enough to participate in some community-building activities.

The combination of the location, the devotional sessions, and some great conversations with the kids made the week in Crimea one of the highlights of my time in Ukraine. I was hoping this would be the case, as it was kind of the last big hurrah before starting to do the end-of-term stuff here. I am very thankful for the time, it was a real blessing.

Dave

Shakthar-Dynamo

Shakthar, the Donetsk soccer team, played Kiev Dynamo on Sunday night and I thought this would be a great opportunity for some of Laura’s English intensive people to see a different side of Ukrainian culture. These are the two best teams in Ukraine and there is a deep rivalry between them. I bought 21 tickets (at $0.60 a piece you can’t go wrong) and found a crowd to go. Due to some people backing out at the last minute, a crowd of 17 foreigners headed to town to chant “Shakthar Champion” with the locals.

We took a trolley bus into the center (8km) and then a tram to the stadium (2km). I had already gone to a game with two of them last year and they were wise to my ways… they warned the others to “stick close to Dave” because “sometimes he doesn’t look back.” Fortunately for them I’m not as serious about soccer as baseball back home; sometimes I have almost lost Laura because I “needed” to see the first pitch. Luckily we all stayed together and all got into the stadium almost on time.

The game was as intense as it was billed; it was a sellout crowd of around 30,000 mostly-rowdy fans. We sat in about the worst seats in the house (but I’m not complaining, they were worth every penny of the price) and were only one section over from the Kiev fan club. This was an interesting location, the rivalry encouraged both sets of fans to hold nothing back. They clearly demonstrated that they all had vast repertoires of rude words and gestures for to yell at and show the others when necessary (which just happened to be all the time). Many in the group recognized some of the gestures but, fortunately for them, they didn’t understand most of what was being said. Not that my vocabulary is vast in the “four-letter word” category but spending time with kids has helped it to develop some. Being the only person in the group who lives here, I was the “expert” the group turned to for answers. Fortunately for me, I only got asked if we were “safe” three times and, wisely or naïvely, I always answered “of course.”

The game ended up being a 1-1 tie and both teams put on a good show. It was pretty even but if I had to voice my opinion I would say Kiev was the better team. I hope, for my own safety, that no one from Donetsk reads this heresy.

The real adventure started after the game. It seemed that taking the large group home would take more thought than I had originally planned. We started out at the bus station where the vans leave from (usually quite regularly). Using my deductive reasoning, the fact that there were around 200+ people in front of us and we only saw one van in the 20+ minutes we waited, I estimated that we would have to wait approximately all night to get home. We walked to the trolley bus stop and waited another 20+ minutes. As far ass I could tell, no busses were running. I made some calls and found that, at 11pm on a Sunday night, my van driver friends are either busy and/or sleeping. We found a crew of taxis willing to take us home and weren’t too badly ripped off for the trip home. Fortunately there were no complainers in the group… although I probably deserved at least one or two for my poor planning. It was an adventure the group will probably remember.

Dave

Hiking Trip

The electric trains here are great. I can’t believe it has taken me almost three years to realize that. Even though they take a long time to get from point A to point B, they are clean, cheap, and the large windows provide great views. I wish I had learned about them earlier, I would have taken guests on them… it is a great way to see the countryside.

A few weeks ago, 11 kids and educators from Good Shepherd and I took an “electrichka” to Izyum to embark on a 6-day hiking trip along the Donetz river. It was a beautiful hike with plenty of great views, nice places to camp, and opportunities for swimming. It was approximately 25 miles, which we hiked in 3.5 days, and we ended up in picturesque Slavanagorsk. It is the rather-famous location of an Orthodox monastery in the hills of eastern Ukraine. We also had a couple of days where we stayed at our campsite and hung out. It was great.

Some of the kids didn’t think that hiking was necessarily “rest and relaxation” but nonetheless it was a great way to tire them out a bit. We carried our own food and supplies, so the backpacks were a bit heavy, especially the first couple of days. We only hiked near 2 villages along the way, so sometimes finding bread and water (we didn’t have the nice water filters hikers at home have) were a bit difficult. But it was great to get out in the countryside a bit and escape the noise and daily routine.

The last night brought thunderstorms and the following day we were soaked as we waited for the electrichka to take us home. It was a little uncomfortable, but good that it happened on the last day.

Dave

Wiffleball

In the last couple of months I/we have brought a lot of guests to Good Shepherd. Most times such visits include a tour of the facilities and some sort of sport activity with the kids. In the past this has usually been basketball or volleyball, but last week I took 8 of Laura’s English intensive people for some wiffleball.

Wiffleball, like baseball, is not popular here. Needless to say, the rules are not understood very well. So there we were, 9 foreigners and a few more kids wanting to play—most of whom didn’t know even the basic rules. I gave the best explanation I could and thought the rest could be figured out as we go…learn by doing. This wasn’t 100% but fortunately there were two Russian-speaking Australians with us. This helped and also changed the game a bit; there were definitely some cricket rules Hellenized into our wiffleball game.

We played for a couple of hours, with much laughing, cheering, and maybe a little taunting along the way. It appeared to be time to go home, but the kids weren’t quite ready for this so we went inside for another 45 minutes of basketball.

It is great when the atmosphere is such that playing sports is as fun as anything the kids may find to do on the street.

Dave

Birthday Party

It has been a while since my last entry and, you can probably imagine, as our time here moves toward its end it seems to also be accelerating. Nonetheless, I will find time to post several updates to catch up a bit. I will spread it out, and it probably won’t be chronological; my apologies.

We baked a couple of cakes and made the trek to Good Shepherd for a birthday party last evening. I was expecting just a small gathering of kids in the cafeteria, but there is a group of young educators at Good Shepherd who are always looking for an excuse for a celebration. And a celebration it was.

Personally I find it a bit uncomfortable to be the center of so many people’s attention and, as Laura will testify, I am not so good at being gracious and accepting complements. But I’m learning. As the picture indicates, we were dressed as king and queen and sat at the head table (Laura said it felt like “we’re getting married again”). A couple of kids prepared a power point slide show of pictures of me with the kids; complete with music to which the crowd sang. And to top it all off, there was a 5x6-foot black-and-white poster of my face on the wall.

After the party, we realized that if we didn’t take the poster, the crowns, and about 25 balloons we would be offending those who prepared the party. So at around 10:30 we left—I in my crown carrying the huge poster roll and Laura with the balloons—taking public transportation, as usual, for the 12 km journey home. It was awkward to make a scene in public after having spent almost 3 years trying not to draw attention to ourselves. But when will we get the chance to wear crowns and carry balloons in the little minibuses ever again. At least people had an excuse to stare at the awkward foreigners for once.

Dave

More visitors (and more fun!)

We've been kind of lax on blogging for awhile, so here's a bit of a catch up. On June 8 we met my sister Lisa, and brother-in-law Jason, in Athens. For the first few days we walked all over the city and saw the sights, then headed to the tiny island of Hydra, about an hour and a half boat ride from Athens. There we relaxed and enjoyed the island. After a few days, we headed back to Ukraine, stopped by Kiev, then Donetsk for a couple days each. It was great fun in all, and sad to say goodbye to our last visitors to Ukraine. Pictures are Lisa, Jason and Dave at the Ancient Agora with the Acropolis in the background and all of us outside the Donetsk soccer stadium.

Today is the first day of English Intensive so I'm catching a little time between conversation practice sessions to blog - since Friday we've been orientating the teachers, today the students showed up and I'll breathe a sigh of relief when today is done. All goes more smoothly after the first day. It's fun, but tiring.

Laura

Bike Ride

Over the weekend I helped lead a bike ride for five boys (ages 12-16) from Good Shepherd. We also led devotional times with them with the theme of “Becoming the Person God Wants You to Be.” It was a great way to get to know a few of the kids on a more one-on-one level as well as have an excuse to talk of some deeper things we don’t usually get into in a game of basketball.

We rode 50 miles each of the first two days, arriving at the Sea of Azov where we could relax a bit. We set up tents on the beach and lived on the beach and in the sea. It was a great time, even if some of us weren’t as deliberate as others and got some serious sun burn.

It was a humbling experience, with me and another N. American heading up the rear for the majority of the ride. They had planned to make the trip back in one day (Saturday) but moved it back to Sunday because of lack of time at the beach. I had already planned a work-related trip so the two of us who were always in the back felt we had a good excuse to take a bus back instead of dragging the rest of the group down on the day they wanted to do 100 miles. They arrived at Good Shepherd at 10 Sunday night. I was saddened that circumstances “didn’t allow” me to make the trip with them, but I was glad to already be sound asleep at that time (I didn’t end up making my trip, I left Monday afternoon). I’m quite the leader!

Dave

Summer food

Summer is here and with it brings warm temperatures and thus a strong aversion to using the oven or stove. In the winter, I love baking granola or cooking a slow stew, not only because I like spending time cooking in the kitchen but it’s also a great way to warm up the apartment. These days we have all the warmth we need in our apartment, and “cooking” becomes the attempt to assemble meals using the stove as little as possible. I now truly see the value of a “summer kitchen” - that cooking area situated far enough from the rest of the living quarters that it doesn’t pollute them with its heat in summer.

One particular Ukrainian recipe is perfect for such weather – in the last two weeks we’ve made two big batches. It’s Okroshka, a cold soup of cucumbers, dill and ham with a milky base. It’s very refreshing and very Ukrainian – fresh dill is essential for this dish.

Okroshka

2 hard-boiled eggs
1 t. sugar
1 t. Dijon mustard
4 c. water
2 c. buttermilk or plain yogurt
1 ½ c. cucumbers, finely diced
½ c. green onions, chopped
1 bunch fresh dill, chopped
1-2 c. ham or hot dogs, chopped
2 t. salt

May also add a couple boiled, diced potatoes and/or radishes. I’m not such a big radish fan, and boiling potatoes means using the stove, so I leave them both out.

Remove egg yolks and mash well with sugar and mustard. Gradually add water and buttermilk/yogurt and blend. Dice the whites and add them as well as the rest of the ingredients. Chill until serving. Serves 4.

This recipe has been adjusted a bit for “American” ingredients – here we use a yogurt-like beverage called “ryazhanka” for the milk base. I’m not sure what the direct translation is, it might actually be buttermilk. Plain yogurt should also work fine, but you might need to add more water if you use thick yogurt. A different variation of this soup is made with “kvass,” another refreshing summer treat – essentially a beverage made from fermented black bread. In summer it's sold by the cup from big tanks on street corners. It has virtually no alcohol in it, which means it’s Baptist-approved. Karen had difficulty describing it when we bought some for our guests to sample – it looks like iced tea, but is a little tangy and a little sweet, and smells a bit like beer. Although it’s a refreshing summertime beverage, I prefer my Okroshka with a milk base.

Laura

Jazz Concert

Last week we took our guests to a jazz concert in Donetsk. I'm not a jazz conneseur, but it seemed to be a pretty good concert. The hall was as full as I have seen it and was an interesting mix of older and younger people. The band was rumored to be "well-known throughout Europe" and reminded me of the North American band Phish (which I don't consider jazz, but still enjoy). Supposedly the lead singer has roots in Donetsk, and the guitarist in Ukraine, but the others in the band were from Western Europe.

Toward the end of the show, a special guest performer was announced. His name was Valery Kolecnikov, and the person who introduced him excitedly said he had played with some famous jazz muscians, including Dizzy Gilespy. I am not sure how this could be, with Kolecnikov being an older gentleman from the Soviet Union and jazz being forbidden listening, let alone playing. But that's not to say that it wasn't possible and maybe it was a more recent occurrance.

I have heard that jazz was and is very popular here in Ukraine. It was an "underground" thing in Soviet times and seems to have kept its popularity over the last several decades. I don't think I fully realized this until the concert. I counted six approximately 70-year-old men, some in groups and others alone, whose faces were visible from my seat. For the majority of the concert their expressions were distant and complacent; as men of their age here seemingly always are on the the street. But when Kolecnikov took the stage, they leaned forward in their seats so far that their elbows were resting on the seats in front of them. And when he
started bouncing all around the scales with his trumpet, their faces lit up and their heads may have even started bobbing. There was so much expression on these six men's faces. It was amazing and I found myself watching them instead of the concert, thinking about what they may have gone through in their lifetimes to be able to listen to such music. Seeing how much joy it brought them was worth far more than the $4 ticket price.

Visitors, Part 2

We just said goodbye to another set of visitors – my siblings Karen and Tom, and Karen’s friend, Jessica David. They opted to spend all their time in Donetsk, since there wasn’t a lot to spare, so we did a lot of just “hanging out.” Summer arrived with a bang and we’ve been enjoying (enduring) temps in the 90s for a couple of weeks now. So we sat near the fan and tried not to make too much heat.

We haven’t traveled much with the last two groups of visitors and we’re finding that even though sightseeing is always fun, we’ve been having just as much fun just spending time together not doing much at all, since we’ve missed doing that in the past three years.

Laura

Independence

Welcome back, dear laptop.

On a Saturday morning about a month and a half ago, as I do in my usual morning routine, I checked my e-mail, then shut down my computer before heading to my morning class. Upon my return four hours later, my computer was still stuck on the blue shutdown screen, fan running rapidly. I knew something was not right.

In the course of the next week or so, I proceeded to download lots of antivirus software to combat what I thought was a virus. None of that worked, so I decided to take the tried and true step towards virus removal - reformatting the computer; erasing everything and starting over from the beginning. I read up on it on the Internet, and did it myself. About halfway through the process, I realized that wasn’t working, either. At the end of my rope, we enlisted the help of the DCU computer guy, Sasha, who confirmed that the problem was bigger than a virus. About this time, Sasha and his family emigrated to the U.S. and Valek took over computer operations at DCU. He took our laptop to a repair place and we promptly left for MCC retreat. Upon our return, it was waiting for us, ready to go, for the not-too-scary fee of 260 griven ($52). I’ve been told that there were two things wrong with it, neither of which I really understand. All that matters to me is that my laptop is again at my every beck and call for e-mail writing, lesson planning and skypeing.

As I caught up on a month of missed blog reading this evening, I couldn’t help mentally noting my gratitude for Sasha and Valek’s help in the computer situation. As we come to the end of our term, I realize that there are many things I have learned. But I also realize there is still much that I can’t do. When my computer, my main work tool and communication lifeline breaks in Donetsk, Ukraine, what to do? There are no certified HP service centers with smiling customer service representatives around the corner, or anywhere less than a day’s drive away. So then which computer repair shop to try? Just pick the first I see? Do I walk in myself, mumble around in half-coherent Russian and hope they don’t hear dollar bills in my accent and take this helpless foreigner to town? Of course not, I ask for help from competent people, and it is gladly given. It shouldn’t really be hard, but it is. I want to be the independent, self-sufficient American into which my culture shaped me. But while living in a foreign culture, speaking a foreign language, I’ve learned that I simply can’t. I need the help of others, and although I don’t like to, asking for help is a necessary part of living here.

This idea of independence was something I was aware of in myself before we arrived in Ukraine, but have since learned how important it is to me. My sense of independence makes me try absolutely everything I can before I ask for help. It also means that when things that I don’t know how to deal with happen, I freak out. I have an especially bad history with electronics, as Dave can attest to. For example, the time when a drunk fan hugged Dave at a soccer game and he dropped the camera (which broke). Or when he plugged the battery charger into the outlet without flipping the voltage switch from 110 to 220. A poof of black smoke and that was all for that charger cord. Both incidents occurred less than a month after we arrived in Ukraine, when stress levels were already high and the thought of grocery shopping on my own was hard enough, let alone getting a camera repaired. That was nearly unfathomable. Therefore, I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t react well.

Both items were fixed (with the help of a great friend) long ago. And I’m happier to admit that with my most recent computer episode, although there were short times of despair, in the end, there wasn’t too big of a scene. I admit, I am still not good at asking for help. But perhaps I’m improving. One thing I am certain of: I am very grateful for those who willingly do help me, as soon as I calm down, bite my tongue and ask.

Laura

Blogging

A North American living abroad writes a blog entry as a way of venting, repeatedly using the tool of sarcasm to describe an event or chain of events that has either a) frustrated him/her or b) he/she found strange/funny in his/her cross-cultural environment. A national finds the entry, reads it and is offended by it. Relationships become strained and the reconciliation, if possible, ends up requiring infinitely more thought and energy than was put into the initial 150-word entry.

This is a situation that has occurred, from what I gather, several times with MCC’s international service workers. It is also something we all want to avoid. We have our blogs to give family/friends at home a glimpse into what is going on in our lives. We use our blogs to avoid the impersonal mass e-mail (that many end up deleting without reading) and also to save some time on individual communication. It also gives readers a great opening line; when they do decide to send us a message—“I love your blog,” “I was just reading your blog,” “Your blog is so interesting,” …. People can check it if they want according to their own schedule.

Personally, I want to keep our small core of readers and a good way to do that is to entertain them (make them laugh). I use sarcasm that can border on hurtful in order to reach this end. For me, laughing at the uncomfortable situations is a way of coping and it’s not my intention to say that everyone here is “like this.” I have come to realize that many cultures don’t put as much emphasis on sarcasm as maybe I am accustomed to. The response I envision myself hearing is: “we aren’t ALL like that.” And essentially “hasn’t anything good happened?”

Our blog entries tend to be about trips that we take and strange situations in which we find ourselves. Please don’t take this to mean that all we do is travel to exotic places or that we are perpetually in strange situations (even though the frequency is exponentially greater than it was in North America).

For me, my “work” is usually quite interesting; but writing about it constantly could border on boring: for both me the writer and you the reader. I won’t speak for Laura but I think she would agree with this as well. In any case, we hope we haven’t offended anyone and will continue to try to be culturally sensitive when writing our blogs.

Dave

Our Last Retreat

This year we had the opportunity to travel to Egypt for our annual conference/retreat. It was the first year where the MCC Middle East and MCC Europe programs met as one big group, called MCC EME for those of us who can’t seem to get enough acronyms.

It was a great experience. Getting together with other workers is always great. It seems that even if we haven’t ever met before we can still relate to each other really well because we seem to have a lot in common. Spending time with the 70+ others in the group was good for us, helping us to realize that even though MCC began in Ukraine, the organization is doing a lot more worldwide than its relatively limited scope in the “Post Soviet Republics.” The stories of the workers in Palestine, Iraq, and Lebanon were very intimidating to me personally. Comparing these stories to how we live and work in Ukraine makes life here seem peaceful and a bit uneventful.

The former executive director of MCC, Ron Mathies, was the resource person and he did a great job of energizing the workers. He has an unbelievable memory and spent most of his time at the podium telling about a) his years as an MCC worker in southern Africa, b) many of his trips as executive director and c) some of his responsibilities as executive director. Two points really hit me personally. First, the “Ron Mathies” translation of Deuteronomy 26:1-10: where he changes the words a bit to be a history of Mennonites and MCC. Second he talked about how MCC has a history of “ordinary people (in North America and abroad) doing ordinary things with extraordinary worldwide consequences.”

After the retreat, which took place near Alexandria, we had the opportunity to take a vacation day in Cairo. We thought we could see some sites and maybe do some souvenir shopping. Notice the picture of me at the pyramids (no, I'm not practicing my "I'm at the pyramids" disco dance)… Laura is not absent from the picture because she is the one taking it (as is the case with many of our pictures). At the time the photo was taken she was quite possibly stooped next to the toilet in our hotel imagining what the pyramids would be like (I think she saw the outlines of a couple from our bus window and she could have been building on that). That was unfortunate, but I think even after whatever she ate that made her sick, Laura would agree that the trip as a whole was great.

Dave

A Visit From Friends

As our time here rapidly comes to a close, we have the opportunity to do some hosting of friends and family. Last week we spent some time, in Kiev and in Donetsk, with two of our friends. Both have been friends of ours since college and, even though our paths haven’t crossed many times since then, we have remained close. Presently, Kendra is a speech/journalism professor at Hesston College (in KS) and Marc is an associate pastor at a Mennonite church in Fresno, CA.

We showed them some of the sites and introduced them to a bunch of people we have gotten to know here; but the highlight for me was the down time. This usually occurred in the evenings, when we sat around and told stories. Stories from college as well as what has happened since then. It is amazing how many stories we each have from our relatively short college experiences and how many of them make us all laugh. It is also amazing how much has happened in the short time we have been here. The important events that we have “missed” as well as the many opportunities we have been given.

Even before they headed up the escalators to passport control in the Kiev Borispol airport, I started missing our friends. We will probably see them again not too long after we return to North America in August, but we were again reminded that being so far from friends and family really makes us appreciate the short times we are able to spend with loved ones.

Dave

Odessa Taxi Rip-Off

On my most recent trip to visit MCC partners, my bus got caught in traffic in Odessa. The streets in larger Ukrainian cities are not made for even half the volume of cars that fill them. That morning I was supposed to arrive by eight; then I could catch public transport across town to the other bus station by 9:15, when my bus to Kiliya was scheduled to leave. I had a tight schedule, wanting to make the 7-8-hour round trip yet that day, along with having a meeting with the partners there.

We arrived around 8:45 and I thought I might be able to catch a taxi across town for around $4 (significantly more than the $0.10 I would have spent on public transport). Taxi drivers know the side streets and would probably be able to get me to my bus on time. I chose one guy from the swarm of taxi drivers waiting for their prey at the bottom of the bus steps. I asked if he would be able to get me across town in a less than 30 minutes: and how much it would cost. He thought we would make it, and—acknowledging my accent—said it would be “less than $100.” He laughed and I began to walk away, but he pursued his potential client, saying he had been joking. I asked again for an approximate price, this time asking if it would be around $4. He said it would be a “bit more” because the rates were raised on April 1^st. But his taxi was “metered” and it would be “all good.”

As we left the station I noticed that the meter already read over half my projected price—we weren’t even headed in the right direction. I told him to stop, saying I didn’t have enough money. He smiled and said he would give me a rate of $10. By N. American standards this would have been reasonable but by Ukrainian standards it was a rip-off. But, wanting to get there already, I accepted. I was fuming for the remainder of the ride.

Being ripped off for my accent and nationality really upsets me. I am uncertain why this is the case. Ten bucks isn’t that much to pay and people here do have far less money than N. Americans. Part of it is my being upset because, when I’m being ripped off, I am oftentimes spending MCC constituents’ money. So they are being ripped off because of my incompetence. But it’s more depressing because it’s just another indicator that I don’t fit in.

I paid the $10 and missed my bus anyway.

Dave

Easter in Moscow

On April 7-8, Jaap, Lucie and I attended the first hour-and-a-half of the Easter service at the local Orthodox church. We were there from 11 p.m. until 12:30 a.m., long enough to make several laps around the church with the rest of the congregation as well as participate in the first rounds of the priest saying “Christ is Risen” and the congregational responds “He has risen, indeed.”

Sunday morning Jaap and I made Easter eggs. Here is a photo of our Easter breakfast. It includes the do-it-yourself Ukrainian eggs (they are encased in plastic shrink-wrap sleeves you slide the egg into and then drop into boiling water), painted eggs (which were not only fun, but really messy too), and a loaf of Paska (the bread named after the holiday - "Paska" is the world for Easter in Russian).

Dave

Moscow Trip III

The day before Easter my Dutch friend, Jaap, and I did some sightseeing in Moscow. I guess you could say I did some sightseeing because he lives there and had already seen the sites countless times. However he was able to visit one site he had never before visited. We arrived at Red Square at around 12:30 and saw it was mainly blocked off, with a long line formed along the Kremlin wall. Being somewhat accustomed to Russian/Ukrainian culture (if there’s a line, one must join because there must be something worth waiting for) we went and queued up. We asked some of our queue mates what it was we were waiting for, and they said that this happened to be one of the days that people could visit Lenin’s tomb (from 10-1 p.m.) Fabulous.

When Lenin died, more than 83 years ago, his written wishes were for burial in a cemetery in Petrograd (renamed Leningrad three days after his death and more recently St. Petersburg), next to his mother. He did not want any sort of monuments dedicated to him. Joseph Stalin, the general secretary, had other ideas. Statues of Lenin were raised in almost all major Soviet cities (there is still one standing in Donetsk’s central square) and a mausoleum was built on Red Square. Lenin’s body was to be preserved. This proved to be an interesting task. He died in January and Stalin decreed that some sort of corpse-preservation technique be developed. Some biochemists took up the task and produced a successful formula six months later. Needless to say they also had to do some bleaching and touching up on the body to account for those months. The composition of the chemical mixture is, from what I understand, a state secret. It does contain a lot of wax and is reapplied every 18 months, but that’s about all I could find out.

Before being admitted to the Mauseleum we were required to check our cameras in the Russian history museum (adjacent the mausoleum). We proceeded and a guard quite firmly told me “take off your hat and get your hands out of your pockets” before we entered. It was almost pitch-black in the entrance, which made the descent down a handful of steps somewhat treacherous. The only things that were visible were the countless guards; who were posted at each corner, under 1-watt (my estimation) light bulbs. After weaving around several corners we found a strong contrast to the darkness; the glass lid on top of Lenin’s coffin was brightly lit (I found the picture online; I did not attempt to take in a camera and try my luck). The first picture is of Jaap and me outside the mausoleum. Notice our looks of pride in accomplishment, after having visited the tomb.

Rumor has it that Russian President Vladimir Putin is considering, after Lenin has laid in the tomb for 83+ years, moving the body to the cemetery in St. Petersburg, to fulfill Lenin's original wishes. That rumor has probably been circulating for some decades and who knows if it will ever be carried out. Lenin’s corpse and mausoleum have a very interesting history that I have only begun to address. If it interest’s any of you, do an Internet search and check it out.

Dave

Moscow Trip II

Alina and Natalia are recent graduates of Ulyanovsk State University. They are in the process of getting jobs at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Moscow. They have been to the United States twice for practicums and speak English fluently. Alina also speaks French, while Natalia speaks German. Natalia bears a striking resemblance to my sister-in-law, Sara.

They were also my neighbors on the train from Ulyanovsk to Moscow. They were traveling there for the day, to drop off some documents at their future employer, and would be boarding their return train later that afternoon. They graciously offered to show me around Moscow if, immediately upon arrival, I would be willing to wander around the Arbat (one of the souvenir streets in Moscow) while they took care of their business at the ministry.

It was interesting to get a tour from some locals who were born during Perestroika. Their knowledge of Russian/Soviet history was not as vast as that of the generations older than them. They didn’t know who many of the statues were commemorating or the names of all the towers in the Kremlin, but they did know their way around the metro, where the best shopping centers were, where to get the best Russian pancakes, and that the ice cream in the Univermag GUM (a mall-type place) on Red Square, along with being the only affordable thing in the place, was the best ice cream in Moscow, bar none.

I was thankful for their hospitality as well as their willingness to help me pick out some amber earrings for Laura (a small consolation for not being able to make the trip)—no one gives tours/advice quite like locals.

Dave

Moscow Trip

I spent Easter with some Dutch friends of ours who live in Moscow. I needed to travel to Russia for my job and it worked out that I could spend a weekend in Moscow. It was a great time, I visited all the standard sites and will describe two significant impressions/reflections here.

First, shortly after getting back to Donetsk we met with Marina, our language teacher. I brought along a book of art from the Tretyakov Gallery, the main Russian gallery in Moscow. I had spent about three hours there and was impressed by the scope of their collection.

Marina was educated in an art school and could have spent hours talking about any one of the paintings, ranging from Orthodox icons to more contemporary Russian paintings. I am always fascinated by the little audio guides that are available at many art galleries which point out the history and symbolism in the paintings. But Marina was more thorough than that; she must have talked for 30 minutes about one painting of Peter the Great (who she says could be viewed as more “terrible” than Ivan the Terrible).

Marina said that when she was in Moscow, she was in awe. She remembers thinking to herself that the same stones on which she walked were “tread by Pushkin and Tolstoy.” In general it seems to me that the Soviets did a more thorough job of teaching history than was my experience in N. America. Nonetheless, it is amazing to stand on Red Square and then see the same square in that painting of Peter the Great. Laura and I have already decided that we will invite Marina to be our personal guide next time we go to Moscow and St. Petersburg. Who knows when that will be.

Second, I was not aware of how sprawling Moscow is. I was told that the Moscow metro is the largest underground train network in the world. I believe it. My train back to Donetsk left from one of the eight major train stations. It is on the “circle” line and, on the map, doesn’t appear to be too far from the place where I was staying. I allowed myself an hour to travel there and that was a mistake. I began to realize this about half way down the “green” line, before even making my switch to the “circle” line.

The rest of this is going to sound exaggerated, but it is the truth. I ran to switch stations and metro-trains and arrived at my metro stop a full five minutes before my train was scheduled to depart. I ran up the escalator and asked the first random person I saw where the train station was. He pointed me in the right direction and I ran. I arrived at the first platform one and a half minutes before my train was to depart … from the 7^th platform. I couldn’t figure out where the tunnel under the tracks was and am sure I looked like a total fool running all over the first platform (the signage wasn’t too helpful). As I came up the stairs to the 7^th platform the train was already chugging away. I jumped in the door of the last wagon, number 18, just as the conductor was shutting it. I proceeded, sweaty and with my heart beating twice as fast as it should, through the last ten cars to my bunk, the eighth bunk in the eighth wagon. After that it took me a while to calm down.

Dave

Photo: Me at the "center" of Moscow marker