Looking back: Transition from village to town in Peace Corps Ukraine

Ukrainians don't usually smile in photos and Americans smile "too big" so we had to demonstrate this.

December 2007 

I have seen where I’m going to live for two years! We attended a mid-training conference in Kyiv last weekend, where they revealed our permanent sites to us. This was a Big Moment for each of us volunteers because the next two years of our lives were being determined. We were going to visit the place where we’d meet our friends, gain new acquaintances, hopefully make a difference however small, learn so many new things… My cluster mates and I were all assigned to the same ‘oblast’ (region of Ukraine), except for one. She was assigned way west in the Carpathian mountains, about 18 hours away.

I visited my new site for a few days; met my counterpart; attended the classes of students I will be teaching; and met the host family I will live with for one month. The city has a population of over 25,000 – very different from the village of just over 5,000 people that I live in now.

I will live with a host family the first month; then move into my own flat. It will be nice to be on my own again, although I’m pretty sure I’ll miss my current family’s food. 

I leave my village here, right before America’s Christmas, and move to my new city, which will be my home for the next two years.

Interesting fact: I say America’s Christmas because we celebrate Christmas Dec. 25, while Ukraine celebrates it January 7.

The final week of our involvement at the secondary school in our community, we conducted an English week program and ended with a talent show. English week went well. The children of the school performed various singing and dancing acts and we Americans ended the festivities with a traditional Ukrainian song. They loved it.

Sunday was my birthday. What might have been a sad and depressing day for me was definitely not. My host family spent part of Saturday and all morning Sunday making food for a big dinner at noon. When I woke up and went downstairs, my host mom wished me a happy birthday and tugged on my ears. Then later my host dad shook my hand and tugged on my ears. My sister said it was tradition but I'm still not sure why.

My friends came and two of my host sister's friends, and the whole family. They presented gifts to me and kissed my cheeks and we ate a lot and drank a lot. My (American) mom called and my friends from America called and a couple friends from here, as well, including my counterpart teacher where I'll be teaching for two years. I felt loved and happy, even far away from everything familiar.

I leave here Dec. 17 for my permanent host site. Fear, anticipation, excitement, fear. Oh, I better make this quick. My host sister is just now telling me to stop writing emails and go learn some Ukrainian words so we can talk in Ukrainian because she just told me two words to remember and I now can't for the life of me remember them. She should be used to that. She'll remember words from the day before that I've taught her but it doesn't seem to work the same the other way around.

"That's because English is just easier to remember. The words don't have 25 letters," I tell her but she doesn't like that excuse.

Here in the village, I took classes in Ukrainian daily, interned at the local secondary school teaching English to children, took technical training classes on how to teach, and implemented a community project with the four other Americans in my cluster group in a small village not far from Kyiv. Which meant frustration and anticipation and downright fear all coincided with eagerness to see what I'd learn next. I lived with a large family; mom, dad, grandma, grandpa and sister. I love them dearly and am sad to leave them Dec. 17. It's impossible to believe that the training is over. In my village these last couple months I ate pig's ear and learned how to make ravioli from scratch and drank too much on my birthday  and taught English to seventh formers and learned how to read and speak a little of the language and taught my host sister 'awesome,' 'mean,' and 'cool.'

I might have had one of the best host family experiences ever in that little village. My host sister became like my own sister. My host mom admonished me when I didn't wear a hat, and she made me lasagna (that I had taught her how to make) when she thought she had upset me. On my last full day there, she made me pizza. She once said she doesn't like to drink water and then, a month later, she was sitting at the table drinking a glass of water. "Look," she said in surprise after a minute. "I'm learning to drink water." (in Ukrainian,-- she doesn't speak English). I laughed and laughed. My host dad teased me and liked to ask me things about America that I usually knew little about. How much a repairman makes and what does a house cost and how much did I make at my job. My host grandma and mom often joked about my first night there. How I don't like fish and mushrooms, and the only things I like are potatoes, eggs, and cheese. Not true. I just don't want soup for breakfast every day!

I studied Ukrainian on my host sister's bed and would bother her while she was playing 'The Sims.' "What does this mean, how do I say this...?" She filmed me with her video camera while I stood in front of a green piece of fabric, and then replaced the background with film from outside to create the effect I was flying - just like in the movies. I will miss her funny jokes in English, and her exasperation with me because I could remember how to say "I want to fart" or other inappropriate words, while I could never remember words she'd taught me like "lid" and "tree" and "road." Don't even get me started on "road" and "deer." It sounds exactly the same. We also set up the video camera to film an instance when my sister was trying to get me to say a particular Ukrainian letter that is equivalent to a combo of "H" and "G" in English. Difficult for Americans to say. Like rolling the 'r's. Apparently, only little children can't roll their r's. Little children and me.

Transition is hard. But that doesn't mean I should stop myself from experiencing new things and connecting here. It's good to realize this. So. On to meeting my new community.