Almost the Mid-Point of Training

Today begins our sixth week of Peace Corps training, which means we’re almost half way through. It’s a grind, but the fact that it’s short-lived makes it easier to tolerate. We have each co-taught four Business English classes thus far, and the sink-or-swim training method has produced many mistakes for us to learn from! Tomorrow is a holiday – May 1st is Labor Day, and it’s a big deal here. Schools and most businesses get Sunday- Wednesday off, but Peace Corps takes off only the actual day of Tuesday. Nonetheless, we appreciate the extra day to catch our breath.

In two weeks we learn where we’ll be spending the next two years. We find out at a much-anticipated Site Announcement Meeting back at the funky conference center outside Kiev, which occurs the night before we leave to actually visit the location. We’ll spend three days there, meeting our professional counterparts, orienting ourselves at our future worksites, and staying with a second host family, with whom we’re to live for the first month “at site.” Then we return to our current city and host family for the final weeks of training.

We continue to greatly enjoy our current host family. They have invited us to join them at their regular Sunday evening sauna sessions at a rustic local community center ten minute’s walk from the house. For our anniversary they surprised us with a special cake, and a small statuette of two love birds. Most nights the six of us have dinner together, and manage increasingly in-depth conversations (read: we’ve improved from mime and grunts to three-year-old level sentences). We can’t wait for our Russian to improve enough to have real conversations with them – they’re great people.

Here’s is a collection of things we’re used to now that seemed strange initially:

Maps – Ukrainians are self-admittedly terrible at reading maps. There were no maps in the country prior to 1991. Curiosity about what might be outside one’s city or village was viewed with suspicion. Consequently, today’s adults have little concept of N, S, E, & W, and struggle with orienting themselves on a map.

Shoe care – At the door of every Ukrainian home are found shoe polish, brush, and other shoe cleaning equipment. Every time one goes out, thorough cleaning of shoes precedes departure. Shoes are never worn in Ukrainian homes. When you arrive at someone’s home, whether house or apartment, you remove your shoes at the door. You either put on your slippers (if at home) or spend the visit in your socks.

Pedestrians – do not have the right of way, ever. One must be ever vigilant, and if it comes down to you or the vehicle, it is assumed the pedestrian gives way.

Food & eating – Meals are served on small plates, about desert plate size. Refills are plentiful. There are lots of potatoes at every meal. (A great selection of other good things also, but always the central dish is some kind of potato, usually mashed, or boiled then kind of stir-fried with vegetables and spices.) Napkins on the table are always thin small paper ones, cocktail napkin size, rolled together into a cup to be taken as needed. For special occasions, guests are given humongous dish/kitchen towels to spread across their laps. Peter and I usually share one. Knives are rarely used at the table. One uses a fork, spoon and fingers. (Our family has one table knife, and a couple of great sharp ones.) There’s only instant coffee. Breakfast is the main meal, lunch and dinner are progressively smaller meals. Overall the cuisine is hardy but bland.

Greeting strangers – one doesn’t. Apparently a cultural remnant from more secretive Soviet times, one doesn’t nod at, let alone greet or smile at, someone one passes on the street. At first we thought it was because we were strangers, but then we noticed that even our host “parents”, who both grew up in this village, rarely say anything to people they pass in the street. We assume the faces are familiar, if not well known, but no acknowledgment is made. In homes and at other meeting times, there is warmth galore, but not out in public.