Finally...
After 2 taxi's, a shuttle, 6 trains, an unplanned hotel stay, and a
marathon (that we had to drive around), I finally made it to France
about 6 hours later than expected. I am now in the office, and about
to meet the group (they were out for a ride). I hope you all had a
less exciting weekend. More on this adventure later.
Random Thoughts VII- Something Old, Something new
I just finished re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia. They are really incredible. I realized how much the ethics and values have shaped my world. I didn’t realize how strong the Christian metaphors were.
When I first got to Ukraine, one of the first words I used in a public situation was yelling for a bus driver to wait (not totally unusual) from inside the bus, as one of our group members came running up late. My other group members were impressed I knew the word already. I am not sure I used it correctly. Then six months later, my language was good enough that I used it for crowd control at a testing center. It turned into an interview session as all the parents, waiting for their kids, crowded around me to ask questions about my language, background, and experience in Ukraine. Now, I use the word emphatically quite a bit in normal discussion.
My progress in toasting has also been marked over the two years, but I have a lot of them to do this week, and I am already tired of them.
By controlling everyone’s water (we only get it in the morning and evening in my area), it keeps most people on a pretty tight schedule. I sometimes wonder if this was a Soviet technique to maintain order.
There is a wide prevalence and affection for little joke books and funny anecdotes; I sometimes wonder if this, also, was an encouraged diversion from Soviet times.
Little Red Riding Hood doesn’t have a riding hood. She wears a derby-like hat; a riding hood would make her look like a babushka.
I was sitting on a marshrutka reading an old Harper’s of mine and I came across a personal ad from Bromsgrove, which is the small town where I worked at camp in England. The ad was for Lucy Man, a dog; it was in a collection of ads from Doggy Dating in England. On another page, (in another issue) I came across my Peace Corps recruiter. They were advertising a book (that I didn’t know she had written) about her time in Peace Corps Africa.
One day I overheard some teachers at a school I was visiting for the first time. They stopped talking when I came in and started to whisper about me, if I was the American. If they had continued to talk I wouldn’t have noticed, but the quiet, one-person-at-a-time whisper got my attention and was easy to follow. I turned around and replied to their inquiries in Ukrainian. An interesting conversation ensued where they asked about my background and commented on my European style.
I have created a bit of a movement with Bananas of the World here in Ukraine. I didn’t even mean to, and I only just recently found out about its spread. If my projects with Ukrainians have the same slow, but strong, and far and subtle reach that some of the things I did with Peace Corps volunteers, then my service will have been very effective.
This is the truly unbelievable: I looked down at my pajama shirt while I was brushing my teeth the other night. I read: Battle of the Beach, March 1997. I didn’t get this T-shirt at a consignment shop; I was there in 1997! I don’t even remember the last time I looked at it, certainly not in years, and I am not sure if I have anything else that old!
Standing in line is a prioritizing thing here. If you are more rushed or more important, you cut closer to the front. It generally drives Americans like me crazy, and I often think of all the things I want to say to the person when it happens, but I never do it. I’ve seen it happen where if they don’t get away with it, they just step behind the person that yells at them. I still think that if I try it (though there have been a few times, where culturally it would have been my right) that they will send me to the end of the line for cutting.
I was walking through a muddy area the other day, talking on my phone. A big German Shepeard started to charge me, barking rabidly, from 100 yards off. My first thought was NOT, “oh, no” or “where did he come from,” but, I thought “what a bad PLACE for this to happen” as I prepared to beat him off with my umbrella. Here I am standing in a filthy empty parking lot, in a suit, with my umbrella like a baseball bat in one hand, and I tell the person on the phone to hang on a minute, not thinking anything unusual at all, when a man from somewhere I couldn’t see, called off the dog. Only hours later when someone mentioned a run-in they had with a dog, did I recall the incident.
I have a Stool of death. Have you ever seen one of those old outhouse shaped wood piggy banks? They were built on mouse traps, so that when set up, and you dropped a penny in the slot on top, the whole outhouse would explode. That is what my stool does. I am not really sure how. I keep putting it back together (my first mistake, but it makes a good writing table), and now hide it when people come over, because even if I warned them, or even if they had seen it happen to someone else, someone would surely sit on it.
I gave my last business card out the other day. I gave it to the owner of the firm who made them.
Labels: random thoughts
The Hiring Event
They bill the event as being worthwhile for everyone whether they offer you a job or not. It was fun, but also rather stressful. I think it would only be worthwhile to people not really qualified for the job. In that case, I guess they are right because you will either get a job, or find it useful. I didn’t get much out of it. Though I did expect to be a run of the mill candidate, and although many people had had very interesting lives, I feel like I was one of the best at using these experiences to demonstrate my ability to perform this job. This surprised me.
How little people read the small print (or perhaps any print at all) also surprised me. The event started at their (very nice and custom built) warehouse about an hour outside of Tuscany. They had big colorful name tags for us and a nice coffee and cakes spread. Then we all sat down and they introduce themselves. One of the introductions is by video phone. It is the president of the company in his Berkeley home (at 3 in the morning). He stays on the line for almost 2 hours as we all go around and introduce ourselves. They tell us to take a few minutes and put a story with our face, something that may not have come out in the application process. I like to go first at these things but it didn’t happen that way, and so I had some time to think. I also had read the prep material they had sent, and it had looked like we would have to introduce ourselves in a creative way, though it didn’t directly say. The woman that kicked off this part mentioned this fact, but they left the introductions very open, they just wanted us to speak, the singing and dancing would come later. I had brought a prop with me in case of something like this and so by the time it got to me, I had planned a nice story that threaded my experiences and interest in backroads (plus a small tear jerk and some jokes) into the legend of the Sailor’s Heart, which I then produced from my pocket. I ended with saying how I thought our personal plans and some coincidence have an amazing effect on our lives. When I sat down, the girl next to me, who I had talked to at the train station, asked if I had planned it. Several people referenced it as the day went on.
The rest of the day went similarly. I had a bike test and an Italian Language test. I was prepared for them but they were more difficult than I was hoping for. I guess I did alright. Lunch and getting to know some of the other people was very nice. At the end of the day, we all had to fill out paperwork, and for the first time in my life, I was officially refered to as an ex-pat, but the thing is, am I really? As a Peace Corps volunteer, I technically work for the government. I was tired at the end of the day, and I met Jen for drinks and dinner again. It was really great to see her.
The next morning, I went into town, checked out one last church, and got to the airport on time. The woman that checked me in said in Italian, “Here is your ticket to Timisoara [a small town in Romania that is the hub for this airline], and here is your other ticket. I am sorry. I don’t know how to say that.” It was Lviv which is often written in the Polish in airports as Lwow. My Italian language partner in Ukraine had told me that the Italians might know it by the name Leopold. But I was rather shocked that the ticket agent didn’t know anything about it. And then I got the same question from the man at security when he looked at my ticket. There are many Ukrainians working in Italy, but I don’t think many of them fly. Looks like I am going to take a train back to training (better than the bus which is what most of them use).
The flight back was just as beautiful, but all clouds once I got to Ukraine. I was reading Poland by James Michener. I HIGHLY recommend it, if you have any interest in Poland, or my half of Ukraine. At one point his beautiful descriptions of the Ukrainian people and countryside, paired with my return to a country that I am really not ready to leave, moved me to tears. Luckily the plane wasn’t full and the stewardess didn’t notice.
These next few weeks, as I say goodbye, will be difficult.
PS. One last story; St. Joseph’s Day in Florence: The Grana Market, where we always got this great, thick, rich pesto sauce was closed the day I stopped by, and I didn’t have it in any restaurants while I was in Florence, and so I was kind of disappointed when I was back in the airport, but then they had it in Duty Free! I was excited. The check out woman was very friendly as she wrapped up like Fort Knox my little glass bottle of liquid. Then when I got back to Ukraine, I was tired, so I stayed over in Lviv with another volunteer. He was having guests the next day, and I was planning to come back, but since I had stayed, I was very eager to show off my purchases the next morning while people were arriving. Well just as I get into Fort Knox, a couple, who are dear friends of mine and from FSU, came in. She had also studied in Florence. I handed her the bottle; and she thought it a very thoughtful gift. I didn’t have the heart (plus my shame at showing off) to tell her the truth. So I tried to let it go, and comfort myself with all the pesto to come this summer.
Well, I noticed pine nuts in our new grocery store the next day, and they also had parmesan, so I bought all the things I needed to make my own pesto (it was a bit pricey for Ukraine). I had had the recipe for a long time but never tried. Mine came out rich and green too! I was so thrilled with the result that I almost called my friend to thank her for forcing me to try to do something that I had always known how... but I thought it a bit cheeky. So if you are reading now, thanks, Sandy.
The Road Ahead
Well as our time here in Ukraine comes to an end, we all begin to look for new lines of work - not more developing youth. I happened to be lucky enough to have already found one. I thought many would have already located a job but I realized at our closing conference that I am one of the few. I will begin my new work as a Backroads Trip Leader in Italy for the next 6 months on April 30.
Backroads is a great company that promotes active travel and environmental and cultural preservation trips by hiking or biking all over the world. There main locations are North America, France, and Italy. The participants are almost exclusively North American and the guides here in Europe are mixed because you must speak the local language to a conversational level to lead trips there. That’s right; I took a language test, and after all these years and never really expecting to achieve tri-lingual status, I have, just not with the languages I would have expected.
Check out more on Backroads at
www.Backroads.com, and particularly these pages:. http://www.backroads.com/why/our_team/culture.htm
http://www.backroads.com/why/responsible/principles.htmBased on these pages, I think I may continue my blog. We will see. I am unresolved on this point and your comments are welcome.
So if you are still interested, I want to tell you a little bit about how it all happened. I had a serious loss in my family in December, and at that point, I seriously contemplated leaving Peace Corps. I felt as if I had distanced myself from the people I cared about, and the people I was working with really didn’t need me, and had only a passing interest socially. So I began looking for ways to leave. I didn’t want to just quit my commitment and then sit on a couch somewhere while I hunted for the next step. Backroads was a company I had been interested in since a case study at FSU but I thought I would try for it next year. The application deadline was imminent, and I got all the recommendations and documents together before I left for Zagreb. After that trip, most of my departure feelings had passed, and I didn’t think I would be able to travel to the hiring event - an all day interview which is the last step, but no guarentee, of your employment - without formally quitting Peace Corps.
I passed the first review and then passed a 30 minute interview on my cell phone from their California office. They offered me a slot at the hiring event in Florence, Italy. So I got a less than cheap ticket, direct from Lviv (near me) to Florence. It was worth the convenience, plus I got to see my town from the air, all the Carpathian mountains, fly over the Aegean see (which takes about 15 minutes, and you can see the Alps rising hugely in the distance), and then over Venice. It was wonderful and smooth. They even served crab cakes on the way home.
I was also impressed by the fact that the small Lviv Aiport speaks good English, as its first language. It is little and has the typical (and I think cool and inspiring) soviet statues of hard working men and women guarding the terminal. It is amazing to speculate what the airport will look like one day.
I got to Florence the day before the event. I had been reviewing my Italian for a month and had even found a Ukrainian conversation partner, but I wanted some practice on home turf. I spent the day in museums and shops, asking questions to start conversations, and then buying more than I should have because of the answers. Many people said that I speak Italian with an Eastern European accent; I hope that will pass. The fruit vender that I always frequented while I studied in Florence now is a different operator, not the cute young couple that I knew, and they sell leather. I did get to see some of my other favorite places, and where I used to live. This was my first trip back to Florence since I studied there 6 years ago. I stumbled upon Michealangelo, while looking for Gianbologna in one of my favorite museums, The Bargello. I litterally thought, “That is nice. I wonder who did it?... OH!” I also saw my first Segway, Peoplemover in action. They are cool.
For you Florence folks reading - Lochness is still there, but La Ribbota is not. There is a take out Mexican place. The FSU campus looks the same, but the Carrabini’s are gone. Sue is the director. The students seemed like adults, but so young, all at the same time. There is SO many English-speaking tourists in the city. I stumbled upon Alfredo’s new restaurant. He was the boyfriend of a fellow student (Jen). I had forgotten about him, but he was there, working when I stopped in for lunch. I re-introduced myself, and he was very friendly. He had me help with fax in English from a tour group. He does lunches for lots of Russian tours too. He mentioned that Jen was still in town, and I asked if he knew where. He told me the store she works, and I found here there, rather surprised, and extremely helpful. We had dinner that night and the next. It was nice to find a friend. I was pretty nervous about the Hiring Event, the next day.
But that's a story for next time…
Watersheds
I want to reiterate, that these are my opinions, and only mine; no research or scientific evidence was used in there devising, and they don't represent any group's ideas, American or Ukrainian, public or private.
This may be a leap of faith, but those of you that know me well, know my fascination with watersheds (growing up in Florida, with an interest in ecology makes it inevitable; the current trend of eventual destruction of the Everglades - the only ecosystem of its kind in the world- is lamentable and distressing). On a separate issue, I have long believed that the fastest way to the heart of a culture is through its stomach and its church. Study of cuisine and religion together teach the physical and mental demands of a culture's geographic and socio-economic situation. You learn about agriculture, work, work ethic, climate, and terrain from one, and the values, myths, history, architecture, traditions, oppressions and faith from the other. Here in Ukraine, I find many similarities to American and Italian culture, but surprisingly few similarities in cuisine or religion. I think in biology this convergence of features from different sources is called analogous evolution - something like the similarity of a whale flipper, shark fin, and penguin wing.
I think a lot of the culture here has to do with the Ukrainian watershed. I have heard that the Black Sea is the largest single watershed in the world. It is large and proficient indeed, and Ukraine's boundaries encompass almost the whole Northern portion. This translates to plenty of water, a necessary addition to their rich soil. The weather patterns sweep uniformly across the whole country and then pile up in the Carpathians near the South West boundary (and me). The geography is almost a half bowl-shape with a major European river (the Dniper) running from the capital in the middle of the country down to the Sea. Having been dammed many times it is navigable to large ships for its whole length and an important stabilizing element of the water table (although not wonderfully clean). The ancestors of the modern Slavic people were Nordic (ie.Vikings) and the navigability of the river even then gave them their basis for the Amber route.
This situation creates a uniquely unifying, patriotic, and self-sustaining character among the people. They are quick to be pessimistic and to differentiate themselves in the East and the West, but there are truly fewer differences than they perceive; they are very hard working and determined, and they always think of themselves first as Ukrainians, and then they differentiate themselves, as contrasted from Italians who still today see themselves first as Tuscans, Ligurians, etc.
Another interesting thing that seems to relate is that they worry about everything and they have nothing to be afraid of. There are no natural disasters here, except for an occasional extreme frost and flood, but they are not common. (I recently learned that periodically with intervals of years they get extreme, localized winds, as strong as a low grade hurricane.) They do seem rather well versed on natural disasters, and they think that all people that live in the way of hurricanes, which they know are inevitable, must then be crazy. I must say that if the few years of hurricanes are the normal part of a cycle as meteorologists are saying, I am a bit inclined to agree with the Ukrainians.
But now is a time for cuisine. I am off to help my Ukrainian family with the Easter preparations. I wish I could share them with all of you. They are some of my favorite Ukrainian traditions. Isn't it interesting that this year both Orthodox/Greek Catholic and Catholic/Protestant Easter falls on the same day, and the same week as Passover.
Happy Easter everyone.
(First) Impressions III - Gino Signoracci
with a degree in hotel management and working experience all over the 'western hemisphere' from a vineyard to a mountain lodge, it stands to reason that a person would know his way around a kitchen, keep whatever abode he inhabits in good shape, and be full of handy information and methods of accomplishing different practical tasks. john does, does, and is.
hell, this sounds like a letter of recommendation. or a eulogy (might wanna hang on to a copy, john...)
anyway, what wouldn't stand to reason, if you didn't know him, is john's generosity (with food, possessions, and, importantly for peace corps, space), his virtually unflagging patience and tolerance, or his receptivity, responsivity, willingness to help, learn...the list goes on, and not only because the sun is shining and i'm in a flattering mood.
by the way, i'm gino and i crashed at john's place for just about a month after the taize trip. i left in late january, then came back again for a few more days, then left again. for good?
why were you there so long, you might ask? well, my answer is: don't stick your nose into matters that don't concern you, nosy! ok. suffice it to say i was tired, afraid, lazy, stuck, smitten (no, not with john, we're both straight as far as we know, even after sharing a couch/bed for so long), a little insane (that's still an issue), and, a lot of the time, just enjoying myself, which i'm sure about today, but may not have admitted six weeks ago...
aside from showing me around his town and region, Lviv oblast, introducing me to everyone he knew including residents, teachers, students, musicians, artists, entrepreneurs, and including me in gatherings with all these people on a near-daily basis, john treated me to plenty of rocking comestibles (that's food, to the layperson), loaned me all his stuff, and put up with the inconvenience and disruption of having a second guy live in a place barely big enough for one...by our standards anyway...
'what did this mooch contribute to our john?' concerned kin and friends are probably asking. uh, i washed dishes a few times, cooked a meal here and there, gave him a couple of guitar lessons, helped him hone his linguistic abilities during near-nightly endeavors at boggle, and - via my behavior and occasional inscrutable vocal outbursts - provided a spectacle. some entertainment.
so john's now saying, 'hey, too much flattery and self-debasement, gino, you weren't all that bad a semi-permanent almost-long-term freeloading houseguest.' and i know that but it's been amusing to write this post anyway. as always, i'm doing it more for myself than for you or anyone else...
anyway, for the time being it was an unforgettable month (i mean there's so much forgotten from moment to moment as it is, and eventually everything gets forgotten doesn't it?), and certainly an unrepeatable one, unless it's happened zillions of times before in zillions of prior universes (where prior is the closest word i can use to describe something that can't be conceptualized properly within the confines of temporality).
whence the insanity. good bye time!
Labels: guest writer
