The beginning of Spring Break

Saturday March 21st

I was under the impression Friday was my last day teaching before Spring Break, but the Administration decided that morning to have the usual Monday classes on Saturday since we missed two weeks for quarantine and we still haven’t caught up. I finished the Barack Obama book Dreams from my Father book, which I highly recommend, and stayed up late Friday night so I could return it to Marnie when I would see her next in Lugansk.

My classes went rather well Saturday despite feeling a little groggy, but I know the students didn’t want to be there so I tried to be as energetic as possible to motivate them. In Eighth form the students shared their postcards they made about Whitehall and then we began to write our own definitions for the vocabulary words in the next section, an activity that sounds a lot harder than you think for nonnative speakers of any language.

In ninth grade the students we split up in pairs and each group was assigned a region in the US, for example New England or the Midwest, and had to present the states included in the region, history, climate, geography, and economy and teach the rest of the students. It went rather well though in my more advanced class almost eight kids out of fourteen didn’t show up, which made me give everyone who came a perfect score for the day. I later saw some of the absent pupils in the hall and again they used to the trite excuse of going to the doctor, so after break I’m going to explain to them that next time I will get their home phone numbers from the office and then call their parents and explain in Russian that I am concerned for the students’ health considering how often they visit the doctor. If this doesn’t work, I’ll just continue to give them all zeros. Fortunately, I haven’t had a reason to be strict yet with my students as I’ve had no problems, but it won’t take long before they see me switch modes and to understand how serious I am.

In fifth form we continued to learn about animals and though they were very rambunctious, the class was fun and I was able to teach them the famed long named Hawaiin fish nuah-nuah-nuka-nuka-a-poo-a-hah. That was probably the highlight of the week at school though watching children dressed as elves goosestepping during a school concert was both surreal and sublime.



Zarya 0 – Metalurg 1

After teaching, I ran home to grab my bag and then jumped on a bus to Lugansk. While doing so, I realized fifty percent of the time I am a little more than fifty percent certain I am on the right bus to the right town. By the time I got about eighty miles south two hours later, the climate jumped probably fifteen degrees so I decided to walk to the stadium from the bus station which took about a half an hour. It was almost like being back in the states during a football game at IU with tailgating and the likes, though the only food was sunflower seeds. I quickly met up with Seth, Marnie, Olya, and Adam. Marnie and I were not checked for our backpacks which had clothes and toiletries for staying at Seth’s but they everyone who purchased a beer that comes in plastic bottles cut off so the cap could not be screwed back on and the bottle heaved at some poor chap. I thought this was very interesting since I had my Leatherman pocket knife on me and wasn’t frisked luckily.

The weather was fantastic, the beer was good, and since I know very little about football (soccer) I really enjoyed myself while my friends explained the basic rules. We lost one to zero but it was still fun and the ticket cost four dollars, though as Olya explained two years ago they cost ten cents a piece, so imagine how upset the fans would be for the percent increase. Olya meets with the English Club at the Lugansk Library and speaks perfect English. Every time a fan or group of fans started to yell and heckle, she would put her head down and laugh and refused to translate their words saying only that they were stupid and dirty phrases. Whatever it was, I knew it was probably funny by the way it sounded and how the fellow spectators responded.

After the game, al the fans simple storm the street lighting off fireworks and blocking the cars, buses, and trollies, a celebration I thought would be reserved for an actual victory. Once more, we went to the Schwarma stand, which is like a Middle Eastern burrito, and to add to the list of people I’ve met there from Iraq, Jordan, and Syria, we met a couple born in Pakistan but based out of Malaysia studying biology in English at one of the Lugansk Universities.

After the schwarma, we went to the Chelsea Pub restaurant across the street to sit and talk and have a snack, which turned out to be pistachios since they were fresh out of ice cream. While we were there, we heard a man speaking English in a heavy southern drawl and quickly realized he was on a date with a Ukrainian woman with a translator present, which sadly enough probably means he was going through one of many companies that helps Westerners find wives in Ukraine and then obtain the proper documents to take them back to their country. He heard us speak English and had a quick conversation with him though the whole ordeal still seamed very shady and awkward. At least it was reassuring to know that he’s been coming to Ukraine for years yet we speak better Russian after three months of training and six months total in country.

Peace Corps Perception

I often admit in my writing and in my conversation that sometimes my life here is very far from my first expectations of Peace Corps service. Ukraine on one hand looks much like life in America, with fashion, restaurants, designer clothes, and technology; however, this is very deceiving since the everyday customs, rituals, and culture overall is very different which I think tricks people into thinking they are back in the States. This causes them to let down their guard some which can either get them in trouble or put them in danger. I think this deception would make adjusting to a new country more difficult than going to a new country where everything is completely different, like villages in Sub-Saharan Africa or Southeast Asia, because there are not fragments of your old life in America tricking you into thinking you are somewhere else.