Traveler, Writer, Aquarius, Peace Corps Volunteer
The evidence
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What's up, y'all? 8 pm on Tuesday night here in Ukraine. I'm fighting a bit of a cold, updating the site, and gonna work out in a second. Just wanted to post some pics and share some stories.
Two main things to talk about. The first is the Borsh Day we had this past Sunday. We began the day at the Rinok (market), buying all the ingrediants for the sumptuous stew. Of course, we had to ask in Russian ("Daite, pojalusta" and "skolka stoit" -- give me, please, and how much does it cost), and pay the proper amounts in grivnas and kopeks. Most of the time, I tried to pay ten grivnas for something that cost ten kopeks -- basically like trying to pay ten dollars for something that costs ten cents. If it weren't for the honesty and patience of the merchants, I would have gotten ripped off royally.
Then into the kitchen, where everything was labeled in Russian and we weren't allowed to use any English during the course of the meal. Lots of chopping, boiling, frying, and stiring of the fresh vegetables and meat. In this case, we used chicken (though I prefer svianina -- pork). And that chicken was one scrawny, fatty, ugly bird. One thing I have to give America props on is its hormone-fed poultry. Dee-lish.
Finally, once the borsh had boiled enough and the vegetables had cooked... bon appetite! I have to say, it wasn't great -- but it wasn't terrible either. And on the next day, it was exponentially better. On our final exam, we're going to have to recite the recipe by heart in Russian and prove that we are capable of shopping and cooking for ourselves. No brainer.
The other thing to mention is the party I went to on Sunday night. I was home alone, starting to cook a little rice, when Claudia burst in and told me we had to go to her friend's house for a birthday party. I put on my shoes and coat, walked out with her, and stumbled into a surreal experience of Russian hospitality, song, and feast. It's such an odd feeling being the only one at a dinner party who doesn't speak the language and you're the guest of honor even though it's not your day. It was the birthday of a friend of Claudia's, and all he wanted to do was try and talk to me in English and have me tell jokes. He was pretty trashed by the time I got there, and after we did four shots of vodka together in about an hour, he was still going strong. Then the songs began, and the talk continued, and I just soaked it up. I can't wait until my language skills are strong enough that I can figure out what people are saying. But for the time being, I'll just take it all in stride. Claudia and I are going to another birthday party on Friday. I'll keep y'all posted.
Oh, speaking of birthdays, it was Claudia's husband's birthday on Friday. Well, he's working out-of-town, so Claudia celebrated without him. And, by default, so did I. She came in late, pulled out the home-made hooch, and started pouring shots. "C dome rajdena!" we said. Only had three, but that was my first introduction to Ukrainian bootleg vodka. Tasted like whisky, and boy did it have a kick. She made it out of sugar and water. I'm pressing for the instructions...
And I should also mention I met with the placement officer yesterday to review what kind of city I'd like to work in after Ukrainka. I'm looking at medium - large, and either teaching secondary school or maybe some university. As far as cities, figure Odesa, somewhere in Crimea, Karkiv, or Dnipetrovsk. I'm hoping for someplace south and warm.
Crap, I didn't bring much money with me tonight, and I just realized I ate up a ton of megs with the photos and I've been on here over an hour. I think I have to boogie.
Anyway, I'll come back soon and switch gears to a more observation-esque mode and get away from the play-by-play for a bit. There's lots I want to say about the city and the people. Stay tuned...
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