This post was written earlier where no internet was available…and no indoor toilets, I might add.
It's cold. It's raining. It's snowing. (Wait wait…please tell me where I am? Did I leave home yet?) Okay. So. Ask me where my winter clothes are? Hmm? Anyone care to guess?
Yes, that's correct. Under the bus. UNDER the bus. Not IN the bus, where I am sitting, freezing my little bum off in my spring L.L. Bean Jacket, but UNDER the bus. Granted, I am dressed in layers, but it is just not enough. Needless to say, I am a dumb-ass. This is all part of the Peace Corps experience…go where I may experience hardship and all that good stuff…but I am in a hardship of my own making!
Anyway…the day started with the usual chaos. Run here, run there, eat this, and pack that. The entire 106 of us volunteers packed into 4 buses and headed for different parts of what is known here as the Kiev Oblast. Oblasts are the different towns and villages within the Kiev region. They break up the country in this manner…sort of like; in Providence County there are so many cities and towns etc.
At 2:15 our bus left Chernihiv and headed down a long and desolate highway, hoping for the heat to come up in the bus. Not happening. At least, not today. We have 4 groups of TEFL volunteers in our bus. We all have 4-5 people in a "cluster" as they are called. The bus will be stopping at 4 different towns to drop off each cluster, or group. We are the 3rd group down the line to be left off.
After about 2 hours a few of us felt the call of nature and requested a stop. The driver pulled over to what looked to be a service station and a few of us disembarked. After hearing that they didn’t want us to use their indoor toilet, we were directed to the "outside" facilities. In the distance there was a shed of sorts, with a men's side, and a women's side.
Before I go any further, let me say a little something about Ukrainian plumbing…sometimes there just isn't any.
I was second in line. The first girl came out, said nothing, and moved on. Then I went in. Well, you know me. NO WAY can I not make a face, or a comment about something like this. There was a hole in the floor, full of….(hmmm, you might know the answer to this one).
Need I say more?
When I exited the "accommodations", I smiled at all the girls and said "Thank goodness we all got our typhoid shots yesterday!" I have never seen so many horrified faces.
So, we get back on the road and find ourselves in traffic. A LOT of traffic. Turns out we are in Kiev and there is a lot of construction happening there. It's hard to see out the windows because there is no defroster on, so I have to wipe down the sweaty glass to really see anything of this country. (So far there has been little time to do anything even resembling sight-seeing). The first thing I see are people camped out by the river. Well, not camping by choice, that is. Then I start looking around…the streets are all chewed up, the buildings derelict, cars parked on the sidewalk….hmmm…sound familiar? Those of you who followed my last adventure to Eastern Europe will remember my descriptions of Romania. My adventures (and at times mis-adventures) there have prepared me well. I am so happy I went because I have had my dose of culture shock already.
So…Onward. We have many more hours to travel and I think I am in some sort of dream-state. I am still not feeling up to snuff (Did I mention this nasty head cold that descended upon me on my first day here?) and I now have laryngitis to boot, so any attempts to join in any conversation is useless because no one can hear me. Gees, I can't even hear me. I sit, uncomfortably, with cold feet, staring out into the now night sky, not thinking about anything in particular. (It gets like that when for 4 + days you have someone telling you where to go and what to do from 8 am - 9 pm. You sort of let go of everything else and just go with the herd).
All of a sudden the bus slows…the squeaks diminish and the roar of the tailpipe quiets, as we turn a corner and in the distance I see a dim light. I'm not sure where it's coming from, but I have a feeling some of our friends are going to be leaving us very soon.
We pull up to what looks like a little sidewalk market. It's pretty dark, save for a few lights shining down from the building, and it's a fairly desolate-looking place. The bus stops. Silence. We are looking out the windows and there are strange faces looking up at us. No one is smiling. Woof.
Then…it hits me. Right then and there. This THING just sits up and grabs me in the gut like nothing I have ever felt before. Oh. My. God. I just experienced that "WhatamIdoinghereWherethehellamIWhatthehelldidIgetmyselfinto" type of feeling.
As the first group off-loads and go to meet their host families, we in the bus stare down at what's happening outside and we. are. speechless. I start to feel like I made the biggest mistake of my life and just what the hell am I going to do about it now? Up until now everything I have done felt like…like…like a dream. Now it is real and I am terrified. My eyes fill up as I watch the proceedings and I just cannot fathom what those volunteers are feeling right now.
And…Onward. Another hour and we pull up into a reasonably big and bright center of a town. It looks welcoming. The people are welcoming. In fact, as soon as the doors open, one of the host moms runs into the bus yelling for her volunteer she is so excited to have her here! We laugh to see this. It is with pure joy and much relief that these people seem friendly and open and happy to see us. Quite different from the last stop, I must say. I can feel the change in the atmosphere of the bus already. We are thinking...see, it will be like this for us, too! Yes! I feel better! Well, sort of….
We watched as the excited host-mommy insists on grabbing every piece of HEAVY luggage from her volunteer's hands and putting it in the car. The volunteer insists on helping and the tug of war goes on for a little bit until the volunteer gives in (Forget it, girly, this is Ukraine. The host mommys run the show and don’t you forget it!)
Before we leave this little place, we all need a pit stop. It's dark out now and we can just imagine what may be awaiting us as we get off the bus and walk down a side street into a little yard. There are 2 young men standing in the shadow of a porch, drinking from bottles of...something.
There are about 8 of us girls and some of us really need to pee so we buck up and walk into the stall meant for women and it is Pitch. Dark. We have to actually stand inside these outdoor accommodations to see how many holes there actually are…one misstep and, well, need I say anything further?
It turns out these are dual privies…two holes in the floor, side by each. As Rebecca and I went in we were hysterically laughing. Why? Have YOU ever squatted over a squalid hole in the floor, in the pitch dark with a stranger and peed…sober? It was too much. We were screaming. Too funny. All I can say about that is thank goodness it was DARK.
(An aside for my friends in Providence….someone was wishing they had their head lamp with them and I thought…what a time to think about Manette and Lisa!)
The bus pulls away. Uh-oh. We're next. One more hour and…and…shit. Get yourself together Jo! You can do this! The next town will have everything! Plumbing, electricity, internet….a nice host mommy... Woof. Again.
We start to see some lights in the distance. Not to bright, but not too dark either. It's close to 8pm right now and we are so tired we just want to get off this bus and get it over with. With trepidation we de-bus and are led to meet our host families. To my surprise, there is just one lady to meet me. Her name is Tanya and she is your typical Eastern European lady...short and stout, sturdy and strong. And kind. Very much so. She is smiling and happy to see me. Chattering away like I understand every word she says. I just smile and nod, and this seems to make it okay. Phew. I did it. Now, for the taxi ride home.
We go around the corner, drive for about 3 minutes, then get out of the taxi. We are standing in the back of one those huge Soviet-style apartment buildings. A little girl comes running out to meet us. She takes my little bag…the one with the laptop in it…shit…and off she goes into the building. Now I have 2-50 lb. bags to carry up I don’t know how many flights of stairs. One is smaller than the other but they are both very heavy. The bigger one is also awkward because it has a wonky wheel. I give my host mom the smaller of the 2 and off we go, only I am too tired and weak from lugging around these damn bags all week long and can’t budge it. She pushes me aside and grabs it and up the stairs she goes. I grabbed the smaller, but just-as-heavy bag and up I go…dragging, heaving, straining, struggling and panting up 4 flights of stairs. Woof indeed.
We get to the top and we are greeted by another little girl…these I soon learn are her just-visiting granddaughters. Then I walk into the living room where I see a man sitting. He is in a knitted sweat suit ensemble, lounging on the couch, watching television. Quite cozy, in fact. Indeed. Hi dad.
I am given a tour of the apartment. It seems a nice place, neat and tidy, and host mom seems very proud of her home and I let her know I like it too. I am then shown to my room. It's a little room, but has a desk, 2 single beds, 2 chairs and a big armoire. And two little girls and host mommy. It's pretty nice. And pretty crowded. I put my bags in there and just sort of stand there and look around, not sure what to do with myself. This is quite possibly the strangest thing I have ever done in my entire life. Since our meeting, host mom Tanya is chattering away like I can understand the Ukrainian like a native. I literally don’t know what to do next. Tanya looks at me and smiles. I shake my head, heave a great big sigh, and she nods her understanding. I am not her first volunteer. She knows more what to expect than I do. It is in that moment I want to hug her and cry.
For the next hour, there is lots of weirdness, what with the people popping in and out of the room to see what I am doing. I commence trying to make sense of my situation while I unpack, repack, unpack, and pack again. What the hell am I doing? I am so fried I decide to leave it all for the morning. Host mom wants to feed me big time but I can’t eat a thing. Instead we communicate that I would just like a little snack and some tea and this works fine. Thankfully.
A little aside…We are given the rules of engagement before we are let loose on our host familys and the one thing that is hardest for most of us is trying to say no to food. These moms are known for being insistent about feeding us until we want to heave. And no wasting of food will be tolerated. Believe it or not we are given explicit instructions on how to deal with not being able to eat everything…how to manage your servings so you don't waste a morsel. Everyone remembers the famine imposed on the Ukrainians by the Soviet Union in the middle of the 20th century where 5 million people literally starved to death. Horrible. So, wasting of food...especially bread, is a sin. If food starts to taste funny, they feed the stray animals. My host mom saved some chicken bones from supper to feed to the kitties in the courtyard. Imagine. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is wasted.
So, the first evening passed into oblivion and I slept like a baby, thank goodness. It was quiet, warm, and I felt very safe and welcome.
It's now day 2 and so far I feel good and I like my host mom a lot. She's fun, and likes to laugh and loves teaching me the language. As it turns out, she is speaking Sergic, or however it's called. It's a combination of Russian and Ukrainian.
All is well, so no worries, all. No worries. I hope you are all well.
