Day 1 of Jessie's Travel Extraveganza: The 26 hour flight to Amsterdam

Hour 1: It all started one blustery winter morning at 4:45am. Thinking that we going to take longer to pack all our stuff than it actually took, we ended up chilling on my bed, watching the wall for 15 minutes, not really taking into account that it would take 45 minutes to walk across the 3 inches of ice and a pack of wild, rabid dogs to the nearest taxi. After haggling the taxi price (a first for Jessie), we were off to the bus station to get our bus to Kiev!

Hour 2-5: Ah, the bus to Kiev. Always an experience. Rachel fell asleep about an hour in, and I kept awake, wondering when exactly the bus would skid on the packed ice (Ukrainians, apparently would rather spend their money on vodka and cigarettes than on snow plows and salt) into a tree. Luckily, we made it to Kiev without a scratch! Not so for Rachel’s “delicate parts”. As we were getting off the bus, the driver (who might have been a bit drunk. .. but who knows) grabbed her and started asking her questions. But, instead of grabbing her arm, he grabbed her boob and wouldn’t let go. It was a bit uncomfortable, to say the least.

Hour 8: Fast forward to our arrival at the airport in Kiev an hour and a half later. We had anticipated being there 2 hours early (which we were). But lo and behold, nothing works as it should in this blessed country, and the one day that we wanted to leave and would have done nearly anything to do so just happened to be the day after a huge snowstorm that, of course, the airport wasn’t ready for. So, only one of the two runways was open, and every single flight was delayed. Or so we thought.

Hours 8-10: When we got to the airport, amidst the chaos, we found the British Airways desk to ask about the status of both our flights (to London, and then on to Amsterdam). The lady at the desk told us that our flight had been delayed by 2 hours. That being said, we had time to kill and had made a new friend out of one of the other passengers stranded in the airport until she could get to London too, and so we decided, as always, to drink and relax. An hour later, I go back to the desk to check on the status of the delayed flight, only to be told that our flight had, in fact, been only 10 minutes delayed and we were given wrong information. So we missed our flight. Great. At this point, Rachel is willing to sell herself into slavery to get out of Ukraine. Literally, her exact words to the person at the desk (she reminded me very much of my mom) were, “what is the next flight out of Ukraine. To anywhere in Western Europe. Give us that.” So, we ended up paying an extra 200 dollars to go to Luton Airport in London, instead of Heathrow, because apparently there was a flight and it didn’t occur to the lady behind the desk that we would still need to get to LONDON! Sheesh. We sucked it up and forked over the money (in hryvna, because heaven forbid that they take credit cards). And this was all just to get into the check-in area!! Once there, the lady who was checking us in didn’t have our reservation (that we literally had booked an hour before), and we had to have some nice Ukrainian attest to our being not having hallucinated the entire thing.

Hour 13, still in Kiev: We finally got to the boarding area, and patiently waited for our flight. Thank god I’m a good Ukrainian and brought snacks and cards. Otherwise we would’ve gone nuts! But, again, flight delayed another 2 hours.

Hour 14, STILL in Kiev!: We finally line up to board the plane, which takes forever. After 45 minutes in line we made it to the bus which took us to the plane!

Hour 15. . . still in Kiev. . . and in good spirits (yet delirious): The doors close to the plane and, in true Ukrainian fashion, something malfunctions. The stairs couldn’t pull away from the main door.

Hour 16: WE LEAVE!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

Hour 20: Arrival in London: We get hit with a reality check when everything is on the pound, and the cost of a coffee (albeit a real coffee) costs the same amount as my entire trip to Kiev from Berdychiv in hryvna.

We said goodbye to our friend, Suzy, who, by the way, went to Whitman, is a year younger than Mikey, and also studies in Dublin (where Mikey went to study abroad). Coincidence? Anyways, she was super cool and was with us through the whole adventure, and I might take her up on her invite to visit her in Dublin. . . sometime. . . when I’m rich.

So now we’re in an English speaking country waiting to go to Amsterdam! AMAZING! I can actually understand what’s going on in life! Although I am going on hour 23 with no sleep, and can’t stop sneezing. Apparently I’m allergic to Western Europe. That’s sad.

Winter wonderland, albeit a bit chilly.

So here I am, sitting in my apartment on a very, VERY wintry morning and drinking my instant coffee. Could anything be more perfect? Well, let considering that it’s about 30 degrees in my apartment and the temperature outside has just hit -5 (this is all in Fahrenheit for you kids), yes. . . a little heat would be nice.

But that’s just how we roll here in Ukraine. My apartment has centralized heat, meaning that it only has one setting and that’s whatever the government wants it to be. And that decision is controlled by how much gas is available and how much money the city has to pay for that gas. Which essentially is another way of saying that I don’t have any heat. This includes at the office, which doesn’t even have a radiator, so we’ve been all huddling around the space heater with our jackets on. Who says that doing Peace Corps Africa is rough?!! I challenge all of those people to come here for a winter!

The weather outside is pretty awesome though. As all of you who know me are already aware, I LOVE the snow!! And it’s been snowing here for 3 days straight! I feel like I’m in Colorado. . . except without the mountains. . . and the pot. . . . and the ski lodges. But I get to see some fun fur here like out West! I apologize for wanting any of my vegetarian friends to come and visit me. My advice to you (if you were considering) is wait until the summer, when all the leather jackets and boots lined with real fur are stored away and you don’t have to see them.

The days here have gotten really short. The shortest day of the year is next week. And apparently the lack of sun has really done a number on most of the volunteers that I know (including myself). We have all become extremely irritable. Or, in Rachel’s case, a crying mess. I’ve just been cranky all the time. This trip to Amsterdam couldn’t come at a better time! At least in the cafés there, there will be heat (I hope) and sun (let’s pray).

And yet the only thing I keep reminding myself of is, “at least I’m not in Grishkivtsi anymore and don’t have to use an outhouse or deal with a frozen well”. That in and of itself is enough to get me out of whatever little funks I get into. And my brilliant purchase of Sorrel boots (thank you for the suggestion Kat), down jacket, and never-ending steals from the “free box” in the Peace Corps office doesn’t hurt either.

I just wanted to give a shout out to everyone who’s been sending me stuff. Thank you sooooo much!! Given the weather and how it’s affecting the attitudes of everyone here, everything couldn’t have come at a better time! I love you all!!!

Stay warm everybody, and happy holidays!

Short update

Okay, I know. . . I've been really bad about blogging.

But I swear, I have reasons!

1) My internet stinks and I can't upload pictures from it
2) I moved (3 months ago, but still. .. I moved)
3) Apparently I now have work to do
4) I've been travelling a bit

Yes, I realize these are not reasons but excuses, but really, I feel like I should be given the benefit of the doubt, because honestly, any day that I don't have the time or am too tired to blog is, in my opinion, a good day.

So, I'll make this blog a short one and promise will update it again tomorrow (when I'm using free wireless at the synagogue- bless the Jews). But for now, here, finally, are long awaited pictures of my new(ish) apartment! It's right next to the bazaar in the center of town (great location), and is super warm. Thank God, because it's friggin' cold here!!! Note the indoor plumbing and bathtub!!!!

The hallway (yes, that's my fridge)

My bed/living room

View of my living room/bedroom from the other direction

The Kitchen

THE BATHROOM!!!

The view from my terrace (that's the bazaar)

Another view of the bazaar

Halloween

Okay, so I know that I haven't been blogging for a while, but I have an excuse! Okay, that's a lie. . . I've just been lazy, but still.

Really, nothing much has been going on. My organization is so into America, it's ridiculous. They really wanted to know how Americans celebrate Halloween, and I didn't have the heart to tell them that in New York we all just go bar hopping all night and usually end up doing something stupid. Sooooo. . . . I gave them the PG version (carving pumpkins and dressing up in cute little costumes and saying "trick or treat"). Luckily, my organization has a lot of costumes because one of the billion things they do is have birthday parties and dress up in costumes for the kids (as pirates, clowns, princesses, you name it, they've got a Ukrainian version of a costume for it). Anyhoo, so we gave all the kids in both my English clubs a costume, and one of the kids brought a pumpkin, and we carved it. Apparently they don't have orange pumpkins here, though, so we carved a green pumpkin. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. Of course, then it was photo time (Ukrainians are obsessed with their cameras and take tons of pictures of the exact same thing).

Carving the pumpkin

I was a devil (it's a little kids' devil costume. . . hee hee)

The following weekend was the “adult” party out East, run by Peace Corps volunteers and not offically approved by Peace Corps (hey, even volunteers have to party sometimes) Unfortunately for me, who was never really into the campus college thing, this turned out to be very much like a frat party. Kinda, lame, but maybe that’s because I wasn’t drinking. On the 6 hour train ride to the party, which was in Harkiv (aka. a hop skip and a jump from Russia), my stomach decided to go crazy and I couldn’t eat/drink for the entire weekend because of a weird bacteria growing in my intestines. But no worries. . . it’s gone now!!! I was super mad because I had sewn an amazing costume!!! Note: I said “SEW”!!!

Katie, Elizabeth, Rachel and I were the Elements. . . guess which one I was. . . .

On a lighter note, I just found out that I received a conditional grant from Peace Corps for a project my organization wants to do. I told my counterpart, Luba, and I swear, I have never seen someone so happy!!! I got so many hugs and kisses, it was absurd! And to celebrate, we drank beer, ate pizza, and watched soccer with her grandfather. It was the perfect end to a busy/not really busy week (I don’t know if you all have heard that Ukraine is under quarantine right now for a swine flu scare. It’s not a big deal, but school’s been canceled for 3 weeks, so work’s been slow. It’s been a lot of tea drinking and hanging out. Oh, and knitting. That's right, you heard me. . . . I need something to occupy my time, since it gets dark here at 5pm, and will soon be getting dark at 4pm. I bet you're all now thinking that this grant couldn’t have come at a better time. Me too!

Halloween

What happens when 60 volunteers go into Eastern Ukraine? Well, a party. Here's how it went down.. . . I spent all week sewing my outfit. No joke. I actually sewed!!! I was sewing in my really bad, "I learned when I was 6 and a Girl Scout)" way, and one of my coworkers, Kristina, comes over and says, "what are you doing?" My response was, "sewing" (duh). Then she says, "no. You're not." Okay. So I wasn't sewing. Then I got a one hour tutorial on how to properly sew. So, I now knowhow to sew.

And what happens after I go through all that trouble, take a 6 hr. train ride to the industrial part of Ukraine (ps. I literally felt like I was entering Russia. . . the part of Jarkiv we were in was so dreary and depressing). . . anyways, what happens once I get on the train on my way there? My stomach decides to revolt! So I spent all friggin' weekend, ill, not able to stay more than 5 feet away from a bathroom, and couldn't drink at the what really was a frat Peace Corps party! SO SAD!!!

I left Harkiv last night after only having eaten a little bit of rice yesterday, and took an overnight train back to Kiev. Of course I would have the top bunk instead of the bottom, because God hates me. And, not to anyone's surprise, the bathrooms on Ukrainian trains. . . not the cleanest. People actually stand on the seats and squat over the toilet. I can attest to this because I see the footprints all the time. So here I am in Kiev, after a very unsuccessful and anticlimatic weekend, and can't take the 2 hour bus ride home, because I don't think I'd made it. So for now, I'm stuck in Kiev. Halloween, to me, was totally more of a bust than last year, but at least I got to experience the trains and know how to travel that way for when people come to visit!

In other news. . . just in case no one's heard, the Swine Flu has come to Ukraine. It's actually quickly turned into an epidemic in Western Ukraine. There are many Peace Corps volunteers who aren't allowed to leave/go to their sites because the sites are being quarentined, and school has been cancelled for the next 3 weeks as a method of controlling the outbreak. I just wanted to let you all know this, because you'll be hearing it on the news anyway. But this for now has really only affected the very Western part of the country. Seeing as I'm in Central Ukraine, I'm okay for now. I haven't heard of anyone getting sick in Berdichev or Kiev, and so I'm not worried. But I'll be keeping everyone informed as to what's going on.

Love to everyone! Hope you all had a great Halloween! Pictures from my amazing outfit, and Halloween with the kids last week to come shortly (once I upload them to my computer).

It's like coming back from college. . .

This week was extremely busy, although not, coincidentally enough, with my organization. Last Monday I got a call from Christie, who is the president of GAD (Gender and Development Committee). She told me of a meeting in Kiev about HIV/AIDS among gay men in Ukraine. All GAD group members were invited to attend, but she really wanted me to go since I’m close to Kiev and my sub-working group has been working on this topic. So, off to Kiev! Again! Now, this meeting was from 11-3. Not bad, if you’re in a meeting where people speak English. Unfortunately for me, I’m in Ukraine, and of course no one speaks English. So I was in a meeting for 5 hours, struggling to grasp what the meeting was about! I’m still not sure, but I think it was about some event all these difference organizations are trying to cooperate on. But, like I said. . . not sure.

So, since I was in Kiev, I figured I’d stay there. Rachel’s parents were here from the States and they rented this kick-ass apartment in downtown Kiev. . . this place was HUGE! And apparently it cost less than a Holiday Inn in the States. Shocker. So, they took us out to dinner, we slept in a super comfy beds, and the next day we got on a marshutka and they treated me to a ride back to Berdychiv, where the Rabbi was waiting to show them the sites. Now, I felt bad about them paying for my marshutka. But then I was reminded of the fact that while it seems like a lot of money to me, it’s really only $5 to get from Kiev to Berdychiv, which is 2 hours away. Anyways, so on the way back, we had a bit of an adventure because we missed the last bus from Berdychiv back to Kiev, so we had to take a bit of a detour, but no biggie.

And the next day it was off to Chirnigiv. It was so weird to be back in that city. I felt like I was coming home from college. But there were so many trippy moments when I would be talking to either my or Rachel’s host mom and they would say something in Russian, and for the first time I would be able to understand them! I think this weekend was the first time I realized just how much Russian I knew. I could carry on conversations and answer Rachel’s host sisters when they asked me questions, instead of my usual hesitant shrug and then inevitable complacency. And, of course, Olya, my LCF, was there teaching a new group of students, so I hung out with her, and she didn’t let me speak English. Every time I tried to tell a story in English, she would stop me and say, “pa Russky, Jessie”. So, I got to talk a lot of Russian this weekend. I got to tell stories, I got to call people out when they tried to talk about me while I was right there, because now I could understand, and I got to hear and understood, in Russian, when my host mom told me she was pregnant!!! That’s right, I going to have another little host brother/sister!!! So anyone who sees any cute onesies, this is my call to you to send them my way.

The real reason I felt like I was coming home from college? I left with a ton of food. . . . and I didn’t even have to raid the fridge or cabinets. Ukrainian moms are the perfect substitute for the real thing.

What happens when Peace Corps volunteers go to a Ukrainian sauna?

They get naked, of course! And rub themselves in honey and coffee grinds. . . but I’m getting ahead of myself.

This weekend, Heather (my sitemate) and I went to Vinnysta, which is 2 hours south of Berdychiv. It is, by all means, a Western European city. Very cute, full of parks. . . I totally love it. We have a fellow volunteer (Miranda) who lives there, and another volunteer an hour away (Abbey), so we all decided to meet up for the weekend. Beforehand, however, it had been decided via email that we were going to go to a sauna while there. Now, I’ve only been to a Russian sauna in NYC, which was kinda dirty and co-ed, so you weren’t allowed to get naked. In a Ukrainian sauna, you don’t HAVE to get naked, but people look at you funny if you don’t. So, naked it was. So, after stripping down to nothing but shower sandels and our little felt “spa hats” (don’t worry friends.. . . I’ll bring some home for all of you who want to sport them), it was time to sit in the sauna. We walk in and there are naked ladies literally scrubbing themselves with an exfoliating sponge to get all the dead skin off. Then it was time for coffee. Miranda and Heather (both veteran sauna-ers) had brought coffee grinds to rub all over themselves. So I figure what the heck? I soap up and rub coffee grinds all over (it’s apparently a really good exfoliant), and, no joke, after I rinse off, my skin is as smooth as a baby’s butt! Miracle number one. Miracle number two was the honey. After the coffee, you rub honey all over yourself and then once you’re covered head to toe (including your face), you go back in the sauna an dlet it melt off. This makes your skin super soft. For real! So make a note for the next time you go to a sauna. . . honey and coffee grinds! This was the most bonding I think I’ve had with volunteers since being here. We got to be real good friends real quick.

To continue the befriending process, we decided to go to Chinese for dinner. Now, most people would expect just a regular Chinese restaurant, right? No, no. . . this place had about 10 Chinese dishes (the rest of the dishes on the menu were Ukrainian, of course), no one in there was actually eating Chinese but us, and it was complete with a dance floor and DJ! Which meant that while we ate and drank we could watch some amazing Ukrainian dancing! It was fantastic! And the night came complete with some belly dancers and another routine of Russian dancers (courtesy of the Chinese restaurant). I swear, it was the best Chinese experience I’ve had in a long time!

Moral of the story is. . . Vinnytsa might beat out Kiev as my new favorite city. . . MIGHT being the operative word.

10 PCVs Walk Into a Bar. . .

And 2 hours later get thrown out. That’s right kids! I’ve officially been thrown out of my first Ukrainian bar! Granted, as always, it wasn’t my fault, but hey. Here’s what happened:

This weekend was the Gender and Development Committee meeting in Kiev. I’m on the council (it was a pretty competitive application process). The council meets quarterly and discusses gender and sexuality issues in Ukraine and what we can do to make the situation better. The committee is split into sub-committees, including: trafficking, women in the workplace, domestic violence, LGBT, GADfly (the newsletter) to name a few. Anyhoo after the meeting, we all went back to the one apartment we rented for all of us. Apparently the chick who rented it said there were only going to be 4 people living there. HA! As it turns out, there were 20 people in a one bedroom apartment! Some of them weren’t in our working group, but the HIV/AIDS working group, who was also meting last weekend. Problem number one: get 20 PCVs together, and you’re bound for trouble. Now, I wasn’t actually in the apartment when the shots of vodka started. I was too busy walking around with Rachel and Elizabeth, getting the most amazing cheeseburger I’ve ever tasted (from a real hamburger joint. . . NOT McDonalds!), and finding a place that Rach and I could have ourselves a wiskey.. Problem 2: whiskey. . . sometimes I forget that whiskey is my danger alcohol. And yet I refuse to not drink it. . . because it’s so tasty! And because I hadn’t had a decent whiskey in what. . . 6 months?

So after our whiskey, we’re not drunk by any means but are nicely buzzed, and walk up Independence Square to the bar where the vodka-in-apartment people have gone, called O’Brians. Everyone in there is either a foreigner or an ex-pat. Or a Peace Corps Volunteer. I literally felt like I could’ve been at any Irish pub in New York. It was heart-warming. What was even more heart-warming was one of the chicks on GAD who was fall-over drunk, telling me all night that as soon as I walked in the door that morning she knew I was cool, telling everyone in the bar I was awesome, and then promptly starting to flash everyone in the bar. Mind you, she wasn’t wearing a bra. So, the entire bar saw her boobs. . . . 5 times! And then we were asked to leave. This was the most heart warming part because I REALLY felt like I was at home (soccer girls. .. you know what I’m talking about). So, me being the good little DD, I am holding this chick up, while we stumble our way to McDonalds, and have to feed her a hamburger and fries. When I say feed, I mean just that- literally every 2 seconds saying, “bite”.

As chaotic as this all sounds, for some reason it brought tears to my eyes and for the first time since I’ve been here, I really felt like I was at home having a drunken night on the town with my girls. It was really heart-warming. Is that weird? I don’t think so.

I'VE MOVED!!!

That’s right kids. . . after 3 and change months of living in a house in Grishkivtsi with no water and breeding mice, I’ve moved into Berdychiv! My apartment is conveniently right next to the bazaar and smaller bus station. . . something which is actually a bit comforting, because it’s never totally quiet. I guess I’m a city girl at heart. . . always need some background noise. So, here I am, in my apartment with running HOT water! Well, the “hot” part once I learn how to use the water heater and not look pathetic trying to do it.

I must say, I’m going to miss the village. It was a nice little vacation house. . . but there’s work to do, so goodbye Grishkivtsi, hello Berdychiv!

So what’s going on in Berdychiv, you ask? Well. . . not much. Rosh Hashanah was last week, and I spent it at the synagogue eating. No joke. Literally, it was 2 days of eating. I can never eat again!

On a non-religious note, Luba and I went to an HIV/AIDS training last week, and of course once we got back, she wanted me to write another grant (for those of you who aren’t aware, I’m already writing one for a volunteer club project they want to start). So, we’re going to have a 3 day HIV/AIDS conference starting on World AIDS Day (Dec. 1). If anyone has any suggestions on activities or whatnot to do with youth about this, let me know!!!

Why didn't we think of this?!

Where else in the world can someone like me walk down the street with a bunch of flowers and not stick out like a sore thumb? For those of you that didn’t guess Ukraine I’m sorely disappointed and think that maybe (just maybe) you should be paying more attention to my blog. For those of you who guessed correctly, Maladetz! (well done!)

Two days ago (Sept 1) was the first day of school. Now, I totally remember my first day of school. I was all nice and neat, with new pencils and notebooks and a new backpack. I said hello to my teacher and by the next hour was ready for the school year to be over. One would think that’s the way things work outside of the US, right? WRONG!! The first day of school is a big, BIG deal! Not only do the kids dress up, but they get dressed to the nine! I’m talking tuxes and velvet dresses specially made for this day, people! And, as part of the traditional dress, the girls have to wear these ridiculously large poofy scrunchies in their hair. It literally looks like they're all wearing loofas in their pig tails.

The outfits. . . note the girl on the far left with the loofa on her head.

So, all the kids were wearing clothes I’m sure they’ll never wear again, but were probably custom made specially for the first day of school. And everyone (everyone!) brings flowers to school to give to their teachers. I even got flowers (hence the first sentence), and all I did was show up at a school and tell the kids to come and visit me and speak English with a real, live American! Oh, and did I mention that each school has a little celebration on blacktop to commemorate this historic day that only happens once a year? That’s where I had to speak. I had to speak bad Russian to about 100 kids and their parents and say who I was and for everyone to come and visit me. It was. . . well. . . interesting. And just for doing that I got flowers. They LOVE their flowers here! Flowers and taking pictures. I swear, if every Ukrainian could have a digital camera and take pictures of flowers and their friends doing funny poses that are so beyond “acting natural” and so posed it makes any model you can think of look like a non-poser, they would die happy campers.

Elizabeth demonstrating a brilliant "Ukrainian Pose". No joke. This is what is looks like.

Luckily my camera is stowed away in my house, only to come out for my organization’s events. Although my battery usually dies after the 200th picture taken during a day because according to my counterpart, I don’t take enough of the same picture. Imagine that. Being the "rebellious" type, I'm pretty close to just boycotting pictures altogether.

As a sidenote: my sitemate Heather was on the subway in Kiev yesterday, and she calls me and says, "oh my god you will never believe what I'm looking at right now. . . . an older woman, on the subway, reading a 10 page article in a magaznine. . . ABOUT POTATOES!!" This country never ceases to surprise me.

Little tidbits

I’ve noticed that Berdychiv, while small, is pretty progressive. There are AIDS/HIV billboards and ads all over the place, and aside from the lack of racial diversity, the ethnic diversity here is amazing. Which means that aside from other places, where you can only find Ukrainian food everywhere you go, you can actually find other types of food here. Okay, okay, nothing TOO different, but there’s an Uzbekistani place here! I know, I know, who the hell knows what that entails, but all I can say is that it’s a different type of salty fried food. Have I persuaded anyone to come a visit yet? ☺For the record, I'm hoping to help aide the progressiveness along. One of the projects I'm going to start working on is opening up "safe zones" all over the city, where youth can come and ask questions and be who they are, with no questions asked, and no discriminition or judgement. I feel like in a lot of places this may not work, but here. . . it totally would. Any other ideas for projects to do with youth, pass them my way!

Other than that, nothing new to report. I just figured I should write and let everyone know that I’m still alive. I’m not sure if I’m getting texts from the States right now (I know I’m not getting some of them). But yes, I’m alive! Oh! Short story- Heather (my sitemate) and saw an amazing site yesterday. We had just gotten off the marshutka (bus) and were chatting while walking to one of her coworkers’ houses, and I think I was talking about something geeky, like musical theory or something. All of a sudden her attention turns to this dude fixing his car. I turn to see what the big deal and then I notice. .. . he’s not wearing any pants! Only camo colored tightie whities. Then he goes into his car and picks up a mini Ukrainian flag. So here’s this guy, in a sleeveless mesh shirt, wearing tightie whities, and holding a Ukrainian flag. No wonder she was distracted! This disturbing site made me want to drink vodka-not a whole bottle like the guy last week who then drunkly proposed to me and promised that we would live happily in New York (he's 55 and married. . but shhh. . . don't tell the little Mrs.). But then I came to my senses and remembered what happens when copious amounts of vodka is consumed by yours truly (insert your own ideas of what might happen when me, who's nuts enough with no alcohol, is considerably more crazy).

USSR rules

This weekend was an interesting one. We had a training on volunteerism last week in Kiev and afterwards Rachel and our friend Val came to Berdychiv to hang out for the weekend. Of course you all know what that means. . . the usual madness of getting drunk in my little house and making fajitas (like, real fajitas, with McCormicks mix- something we don’t have over here and get very excited when someone gives us some). Yesterday we went to Zytomir (which is 45 minutes from my house) to meet up with some of Val’s friends because they all wanted to meet Rachel and I. So, we knew going into the day that we would be drinking. . . a lot. Val might have mentioned that the 3 boys were anti-American and pro USSR, but I kinda took that with a grain of salt. 4 liters of vodka (between 8 of us) and 5 hours later, I found myself standing on this guy Denis’ balcony, having an intense conversation about the USSR. So, let me educate you on what I learned:

-USSR was the best region in the world
-Communism as a theory is great, but in practice never works. Instead, the USSR should’ve been following the Nordic states and practicing Socialism instead
-The history of not only Russian rockets in space, but American rockets too (that’s right. I had no clue)
-The French-Russo relationship of the 18 and 19th centuries were extremely influencial when discussing Russian politics and culture.
-Nameless Russian authors and musicians that I have to read and listen to, including Boris something, who was the rock and roll revolutionary of Russia in the 1970’s
-The newer Star Wars movies are the best because they focus on “creating an empire” and less on the “love story” crap.

And last but not least, the best lesson I’ve learned is that there guys were very, VERY well educated, and enjoyed having conversations about history and science. And the fact that after 4 liters we could still carry on said conversations. I’m not sure that’s a good thing because I’m learning the language, or a bad thing because that means my liver is going to fail at some point.

Kluch vid mista

Look at the sign I made! Everyone thought my attempt at graffiti was "interesting". Apparently it wasn't pretty enough

Oh where to begin. . . well, today my organization put on a “city-wide” event. This being Ukraine and over the top, extravagant, and sometimes ridiculous associated with Ukrainians, I had no clue what to expect. The only thing I knew for sure was that after the games were over, there would be sandwiches (which I was supposed to help make) and tons and tons of beer. But shag z shaggom (step by step).

Heather and I arrived at the opposite side of town from anything at 9 in the morning. We had both brought our cameras because we knew we were to be the “photographers”. Not that our services were needed, because everyone and their mother in this country has a camera, takes shit tons of pictures, AND doesn’t mind standing directly in front of you while taking their pictures, which, I must say, they think are far superior to ours, but I’m convinced that’s because they like flashy. I’m not flashy (duh). I’m too artsy for them. Anyhoo, we came cameras in hand ready to take pictures, and followed everyone around while they were doing their activities. These activities included an introductory skit to each team (all the teams were picked ahead of time), a relay race in the military base (I’ll get to that later), and some other stuff I don’t know because that’s the point I start making the millions of sandwiches.

So let’s talk about the relay race, since that’s really the only thing I saw. The race was that one person was to get out of the cot, dress in army gear, including boots, and be dressed to the approval of a military officer (who was standing there watching). That person would the run to a table about 10 feet away and tag their teammate, who had to disassemble an AK47. Once the gun was disassembled, the next person had to open a pouch with a gas mask and run to a stretcher with another teammate lying on it. One of the other teammates had to them split the “injured’s” leg, pick up the stretcher, and run back to another teammate, who was to reassemble the AK 47. First one to do all that wins. Now that I’ve explained, let’s back up the point where civilians (everyday Joes) are DISASSEMBLING AND REASSEMBLING GUNS!!! What was totally surprising is that before the relay started, everyone got a practice chance with the gun.. . and everyone (EVERYONE) knew how to do it!! I didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared shitless. . . I opted for scared shitless. So, after the relay I went inside. Lord knows I needed a beer.

So do all Ukrainians. And by god they will have their beer! Once we set up the banquet hall, we realized that no one had brought a bottle opener (I had one on my keychain but that was locked in another room). So I said, “uh oh. That’s not good”. Heather promptly turns to me and very calmly says, “oh don’t worry. They will figure out ways to get their beer”. Man was she right! They did everything from open the bottles on the backs of chairs, to using lighters (both normal in my mind) to using teeth when they had them (a little less normal). I actually saw a guy open a beer with another beer bottle! THAT’S what I call impressed!

So, at the end of the day I learned something- don’t mess with Ukrainians because they all know how to assemble an AK47, and if ever in need of opening a beer, find a Ukrainian, because they will stop at nothing to get their beer!

Assemble that gun, lady!

Making sandwiches

Check out all the beer!

My Birthday

I’d say this was probably on the list of “funnest birthdays to date”. On Saturday, I, with a 6 other volunteers went rock climbing. The cliffs we were climbing were level 5 out of level 7. I didn’t make it to the top because I’m friggin out of shape, but I tried 3 times. So by the 3^rd time I was about to die, and my arms felt like jelly. But the way I figure it. . . if I made it halfway 3 times, that means I made it up 1 and a half time! How’s that for logic! After that, we all went down a makeshift zip line. When the trainers were preparing the zip line, they were doing a demo, and I overheard them talking, and Pasha whispers to Igor, “are you scared to go down this?” and Igor replied, “a little”. NOT reassuring! But, I took to the bull by the horns, overcame my fear of heights, and totally did it!!!

On my actually birthday, me, Val, Heather, my counterpart Luba and her family went to a park in Berdychiv and went shashlicking. It was so much fun! I brought my guitar, we had sandwiches and pork kabobs (after I found out it was pork, I really didn’t want to eat them, but I figured it would be rude not to eat them, and man, were they good! Tasted like chicken!), drank some wine, it was awesome! I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day, and was surrounded by cheery people and personalities.

Thanks to all of you who called and emailed! I love you all! Pictures to follow. I swear.

Ziplining

The Cliff

My Birthday Picnic (from the left: Kristina, Me, Val, Heather, Oksana) with the largest watermelon I've ever seen!

Sergei taking care of the shashlick meat

Guitaring while waiting for the meat to cook

Way to jinx me, Dad

I talked to my dad today and was telling him how since I've been at site I've been sooooo good about drinking! Seriously. . . maybe a beer or two in a month and a half. Not bad right?

And what happens? As soon as I get off the phone, my landlord comes to my doors and asks if I was to drink with her and her friends. So, here are the points I'd like to make about this evening:

-My landlord might have been a hooker back in the day, and has a son, who's father seems to be "missing".
-She's not one anymore and is an honest farmer and super friendly
-Her friends are hilarious, probably younger than me, but very funny
-Ukrainians like to hear people play the guitar. . . even if they have no clue what the song is about. Seriously, you could be singing a song about f-ing some dude in the back of a car with a vegetable (or something grosser if your imagination can handle it), and if it's played well and with a pretty melody, they'll totally sit back and love it. Actually, come to think of it, if it's a Ukrainian song with the same meaning, as long as it has a nice melody, it might pass as "normal" ("I kissed a girl" is of course excluded in this, because God forbid that any of that exists in this country). Anyhoo, moral of the story is, my landlord's a-okay.

And I think I"m going to ask to stay in my house. I'm getting used to the village life, and now that Luda and I are starting to be civil and she's around alot more, and her friends are cool, being here won't be so bad, I think (and it'll be cheaper for everyone).

A One Up on Rachel's Camera Story

How can someone one up a "camera falling into the shitter" story? Well, by someone (aka. me, the dummy) dropping their wallet into the shitter. That's right ladies and gentlemen, I managed to out do my friend! And of course, I couldn't just leave it there, because I had a lot of money in it, all my credit cards, and my REI discount card (don't laugh. . . that's going to come in handy one day).

Funnily enough, as I was telling Rachel last night on the phone, the conversation was surprisingly similar to when she dropped her camera in the outhouse (although this time it was just me and Chuvak, my dog, around). Here's how the conversation went:

Plop
Me: FUCK!
Chuvak:

Me: Chuvak, go get a stick!
Chuvak:

Me: Well shit, you're no help. . .

I run to get rubber gloves from my medical kit, because lord knows that a farm wouldn't have any sticks around.

Me: Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew
Chuvak:

Needlesss to say that Chuvak wasn't really that helpful, except for eating the dishsoap that I initially rinsed everything off with, and trying to steal shoes from my house. BUT, after much washing with dishsoap, rinsing, and re-washing with this amazing surgical scrub that Peace Corps (the geniuses) gave us, I am proud to announce that nothing that was in that wallet smells anything like poop! Only like dish soap and antibacterial wash.

Moral of the story is. . . if you're ever going to squat to go to the potty, no matter where you are, empty your pockets of everything valuable. The second moral is always carry latex gloves around with you everywhere. Lord knows they come in handy!!!

Ps. As it turns out, I'm not moving for another month, because every place we looked at I'd be living with an older lady who just happens to have an extra room in their house. And lord knows that I don't want to do a home stay for the next 2 years. . . that just isn't right. So, Chuvak and I will be chilling at our house until a better solution arises. . . which may be never. But it's cool. I'm starting to get used to my little house with the well. If only the outhouse had a seat. .. . then I wouldn't even have to worry about losing anything in it!

Good 'Ol Joe

So, I'm in Kiev right now and just finished hearing Joe Biden speak and got to shake his hand. He was meeting with the President and Prime Minister of Ukraine today so Peace Corps invited all volunteers who wanted to come to stay the night in Kiev (on them) and hear him speak at the new Hyatt (which, by the way, is SUPER posh!) We got to the Hyatt (we weren't staying there) at around 8:30am, and were literally waiting for 2 hours for a 15 minute speech. Very anticlimatic, but honestly, I was looking forward to seeing Rachel, Elizabeth, and my other buddies from training rather than haering Joe speak. So I got to see all my friends from all over the country (who I haven't seen in a month), which was nice. And I'm extending my visit for another night to see people longer, so tonight 6 or us are renting an apartment for the night so we can just chill in there. And then I go back to Berychiv tomorrow.

I actually haven't been at sight much in the past few weeks because I was working a camp last week in a little village about 3 hours outside of Berdychiv. I forgot how much I love being a counselor. I swear, when I grow up and get back to the States I am going to be a professional landsports counselor. I'm not even kidding. It was so much fun! Complete with a bonfire at night with the other volunteers staying at the camp, drunken debauchery at night, real breakfasts including eggs and french toast and peanut butter and honey, and family dinners. So much fun! Oh, and the kids were great too. No seriously. I had to teach a bunch of Ukrainians from ages 10-15 how to throw a baseball, and the theory and practice of baseball as a sport. The things we take for granted- everyone in the US knows what an "out" is. . . in theory, so do the Ukrainians, but in practice it's a different story. They loved it though, and came back later in the day after camp was over just to play catch. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling all over. . . or maybe that was the intense burn I got from being outside all day for 5 days straight. Best farmer's tan ever!

The last exciting thing is I'm moving! I don't know where. . . I don't know when, but I know it's going to happen. I get back to Berdychiv tomorrow. . . chances are with my luck I'll have to move on Thursday. But who knows.

Hooker Landlord

That's right!  I have a prostitute as a landlord!  Granted, this is a theory right now, but let me tell you why:

a)  there have been at least 5 men over the age of 50 (my landlord is about 20 and according to my friend Val doesn't wear enough clothes for the amount of skin she shows) knocking on my door at various times during the evening, including once at 4am.  I ignored them and they didn't get the hint that "no one was home" and kept knocking for an hour.

b)  as I've told many of you, the walls between my part of the house and my landlord's are very thin.  Because of this, unfortunately, I can hear everything (EVERYTHING) that happens in her house.  More unfortunately, there have been various nights when I have to fall asleep to the sounds of noises that one doesn't want to hear unless one is part of those acts.  These noises started once the music problem (my landlord was blasting her music at midnight and later and was keeping me up) stopped.  I kind of want to to start playing the music again.

c)  The woman is never home.  She leave early in the morning dressed in nothing (granted Ukrainian women always dress in nothing, but she's particularly bad), and doesn't get home until late night (sometimes not at all), at which time reason B begins.  

Because of all these reasons, especially reason A, the Peace Corps has deemed my house unsafe to live in.  No one wants random people knocking at your door at all times of the day, and looking for someone who doesn't live there.  In addition, who knows what would happen if they find out I'm an American?  So, at the end of this month, I'm moving (again).  Who knows to where. . . . it's a pity because I was finally getting used to my little house!  Oh well, maybe I'll be in town so I can actually possibly do stuff after 8pm, when the buses to my village stop running. 

Happy 4th of July!

Happy 4th of July everyone! This 4th was definately different than last, for sure. Instead of sitting at the beach, drinking beer, bbq-ing, and getting beyond drunk with my pals up, I instead went 45 minutes by bus to the Oblast center of Zhytomir, where there are 2 other volunteers (one of which is a professional cook, the other a professional pain). So Heather (the other volunteer at my site) and I went and met up with the other 6 volunteers from our Oblast to go to an English club meeting that Nancy had baked an American flag cake (you have no idea what heaven that cake was, becuase you can't get real cake over here. .. . ) for that day's class, conveniently themed of American Independence Day. The teacher there was a Ukrainian who had planned all these games for the people who came, including a quiz game, in which I didn't know any of the answers (I mean, really. . . who knew that another name for the "4th of July" was "the Glorious 4th"!) After that, All 7 volunteers in the Oblast decided to meet up at Nancy's (the professional cook), because somehow through her connections she had acquired real American hot dogs!!! It was awesome! We sat in her apartment, because it was raining, ate REAL hot dogs, drank beer, and she made potato salad and cole slaw. It was the most American meal I've had since I've been here!

Other than that, things are going fine. Last week was rough though. It's hard being in a place where you have to tell the people you're working with everything that you're doing all the time. It got to the point last week that I told them I was going to the bathroom, and literally, one of them asked "Do you need me to come with you?" No, I'm okay. I can wipe my own butt, thanks. I understand that they're responsible for my doings and whereabouts. I get that. But there's got to be some sort of line between, "where are you" and "because you don't speak the language you're an idiot and can't do anything". Or maybe it's a cultural thing? Either way, because I'm not one to just complain about something without getting something done about it, I confronted the people in my organization last week and told them that I don't mind reporting into them, but in America I was very capable of being on my own and being independent, and it's very difficult for me to not be like that here, and can they be a little less micro-managing (I didn't say those exact words, because my Russian's not THAT good yet)? And that was the end of that! Next hurdle to jump over- telling my landlord, who lives in the other half of my house, to a) turn down the music after 11pm and b) maybe have sex at her boyfriends house for a change? Those walls are SUPER thin!!! I feel like I'm in NYC again (actually, even in NY it wasn't that bad because I was in the back of the apt, so I couldn't hear anything).

So, that's pretty much my life right now. . . oh, and in addition to the dog I now have a cat and another dog lingering outside my door, and anytime I keep the door open, they just wander in and chill with me. The term "mi casa es su casa" couldn't apply more!

Pics of my current living situation

Okay, here are some pics of the house.  This is the REAL Peace Corps experience right here!

My house

 My dad asked me to a take a pic of the horse and buggies, so there you go.  A common sight here.

The Kitchen/Washing Area

The Living Room/Bedroom

My Bathroom

The Well

Chuvak (the yappy dog that is now apparently my best friend)

And this is my life right now.  Enjoy!

My house

So, here I am in Berdychiv! I finally opted for the house option of my two options. It's not bad . . the kitchen's a bit small and doesn't even have a sink or anything, so I use buckets as my sink, buckets for my laundry, and take bucket baths in the corner of the kitchen. And, of course, I have an outhouse, which sounds scary, but the biggest issue I've had so far is the guard dog outside, who was nameless (Ukrainians don't name their pets), but who I've named "Chuvak", which means "dude" in Russian. For the first few nights at my house, I was scared to come home after dark because the dog friggin' barks and yaps all the time, and everytime I would go to the outhouse he would follow me and growl. But I took care of that by bribing him with a hot dog, so now we're buddies. Now he literally follows me everywhere, I'm sure because he wants food. And today he even ventured inside my house for a few minutes and sat there!

Today is a big day because I'm getting a refrigerator! No joke. . . this is a big deal. My counterpart and her family is bringing it over and then we're going to have a picnic at my house. Where? I have no clue.. . . . maybe on the street? Considering I have no chairs, this will be interesting.

Other than that, nothing new has been going on. I'm going to start working on a grant this week to get my organization a laptop so they can go around Berdychiv and do different types of trainings. I'm still not really understanding most of what is said to me, but I go along with it anyways and just say "da", so they think I'm smart. On of these days that's going to backfire and I'm going to end up being married to a 20 year old or something.

Oh. and Blogger's being stupid so I can't upload photos right now. Hopefully I'll have pics of the house up by the end of the week.

Love to you all!

And so the adventure begins!

Well, I'm here!  After an intensly sad and teary goodbye (literally, Rachel was sobbing on my shoulder because she's on the other side of the country, 12 hours away.  Boo) it's time to let the adventure begin!  Actually, the adventure began when we got on the bus yesterday to come to Berdychiv (my town), and only when the bus pulled away did we find out that the bus wasn't stopping in Berychiv because the bridge to get there was down.  My counterpart turns to me and says "don't worry.  everything's okay.  this is ukraine.  this is normal".  Couldn't have said it better myself!  So, in true Peace Corps fashion, we get off the bus at the city limits, on the side of the highway with nothing around, where my Luba had gotten her mom and dad to pick us up in a car.  Then we drove to Babuska's house, where I spent the night.

I'm living for the next 2 years in Berdychiv, which is about 2 hours southwest of Kiev (this is the point where you're all supposed to take out your maps and check out the location). From what I understand from my counterpart, my sitemate, and the one guy I've met who speaks English, Berdychiv used to be the Jewish capital of Ukraine.  For the past 2 centuries, everyone living here was Jewish, until WWII.  There used to be 80 synagogues in a city of 100,000, but now there are only 18.  And about 600 Jews.  But apparently every September a slew of them come in from everywhere, because a famous Hasidic is buried in the Jewish cemetary outside of town.  So that's an interesting tidbit, no?  Other than that, it's a super quiet town.  Very laid back and chill, although that could be because it's the summer.  And it definately has a small town feel to it.  So we'll see what happens.  

My living conditions at the moment are actually pretty bad.  The apartment I'm in is super squishy and really dirty, so much so that I'm afraid to take a shower!  But that'll change tomorrow, hopefully.  I'm hoping that the house outside of town in the next village over is cool, even though it doesn't have running water.  I'll take going to a well and taking cold baths to living in a shithole any day!

The organization I'm working with is very small.  It's kinda like a mom and pop organization, except more mother and daughter than mom and pop.  Next weekend is "Children's Day", "Town Day" and some other day that I can't remember the name of, so it's going to be one big party!  I've been volunteered to partake in a city-wide scavenger hunt that Luba, my counterpart, organized.  I think my friend Val, who's in a village of 600 people and is pretty near me, is coming in for it too.  But everyone's very excited to be working with me.  The's city's hosted tons of volunteers before, so no one stares or anything, but everyone still knows everyone's business.  Before I even got here, people knew I was coming.  And I've already met the most important people:  My counterpart, her family, an English teacher who's tutoring me in Russian, and the coffee lady across the street from the office.  She knows me by name because Luba officially introduced me.

One last thing. . . I have a mailing address!!!!  Write me!!!!

Jessie Salpeter

A/C No 6

Berdychiv 1

Zhytomyrska 13301

Ukraine

Let the mailing begin!!!

Interesting. . .

I've learned a few things since being here, but of course, every day I learn something more. For instance, last Friday I learned that while there are no real inner cities here in Chirnigiv, there are, in fact, people that like to dress ghetto circa 1993. I also learned the hard way that Ukrainians do not like you to be dressed in wet clothes, even if it's a million degrees out, and they will stop at nothing to keep it that way. Let me explain.

Last Friday, the Ukrainian national team was playing Croatia in a soccer match. Of course, I wanted to watch, so Rachel and I go to the bar near her house to watch the game. When we get there, there's a DJ playing a sweet mix of 90's hip hop that's keeping us dancing and bobbing while watching the game. We're sitting having a beer and chilling and watching us some soccer when a bunch of 20 year olds walk in, look all thug like. I swear, if you all could see them, your eyes would drop and you'd have this confused face. . .

These kids were dressed in super, ultra baggy clothes, complete with g-string showing in the back. And of course, there was the one chick dressed hoochy mama. Usually, I wouldn't take notice, but then it occurred to me that there isn't a "ghetto culture" in a 10,000 mile radius! But more to the point. . . no one, but NO ONE wears a Lakers jersey with a Mets hat. That's just not allowed. I wanted to point this out, but then we noticed that these guys were coming in by the bunchful! And there, to my surprise and delight, were the Ukrainian versions of Tupac, Kanye, and Eminem. . . all in one place! What a joy to watch a soccer game AND the people watching the game, all in one shot!

You thought I was kidding. . . didn't you?

Now, on to lesson 2. . . and pay attention. On Sunday, our language group hosted a BBQ for our host families as a thank you. It was at a local Ukrainian restaurant that had a tent outside that we rented out. It was really nice until it started to rain. And not just rain but hail! So me, Galya, and my host sister Nastya are outside, bearing the weather, to finish cooking the chicken (which no one else wanted to cook so we volunteered), and when all the chicken was cooked, we walk inside the tent. I'm soaked, but it's cool because it was super humid and hot out. But NOOO. . . that's not acceptable. As soon as I walk in the tent, Rachel's host mom, Valya, walks over to me, in Russian saying, "Jessee-ka, you're wet, you'll catch a cold, this is not okay", grabs the bottom of my t-shirt, and literally strips in off of me. . . IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE GROUP AND THEIR FAMILIES! So there I am, in my sports bra, in front of everyone and their families, and she comes over and makes me put on her jacket while my shirt dries. Mind you, I had my own jacket and kept saying that, but for some reason it was insisted that I wear hers. She actually wanted to take it home and wash my shirt, but I refused, and later, when the sun came out, I dried it a bit and put it back on, to her dismay. All of this, as a sidenote (DAD) is without any vodka being consumed by yours truly. Only after I had been violated by Rachel's host mom did I decide that now would be the appropriate time to begin drinking. And now, for some pics. . .

Sometimes PC Volunteers gotta do anything to make ends meet

The hail

Shots were needed. . .

PS. It's hotter than Hades here. . . I feel like I'm in DC during the summer! For those of you who know what that feels like, you all know how much I want to just walk around naked all day and jump in a cold pool. But alas. . .. I cannot. Apparently there are only 2 tempuratures here. . . . humid and blazing hot, and cold and friggin' Antarctica.

Yes, SOME stories don't involve alcohol

My dad this week posed a very interesting question:  “Do any of your stories NOT involve alcohol?!”  So, to appease my father, who I’m sure at this point is either extremely impressed that I can drink my weight in vodka or fears for my liver (possibly both), I give you a half-and-half entry.  One story involves a party, a toilet, a camera and, of course, vodka.  The other involves this weird thing that looked like a blob on my eye that I called a permanent booger.

I’ll start with the booger.  About a week ago, I saw something that looked like a piece of clear jelly in my eye.  After calling the Peace Corps doctor and trying medication, it wasn’t going away.  So yesterday I skipped language class and went all my myself into Kiev to see the doctor.  Dr. Sasha (we call the Peace Corps doctors by their first names) said he had never seen anything like that before, and after a few hours of me hanging out in the Peace Corps lounge and finding some awesome stuff in the “finder’s keepers” box, we set out for the eye doctor.  We walk down the long corridor in the Militia Hospital on the other side of town, and I’m told to sit in a chair in the hallway outside of a random door.  Sasha tells me to follow him in finally, and he talks to the doctor in Russian.  She looks at my eye, says something and goes away.  While she’s gone, Sasha turns to me and says, “you have a conjunctiaval cyst on your eyeball.  Actually 3.  It’s very common, apparently, but they have to pop them”.  Come again?!!!  So the doctor comes back, puts some awesome numbing drops in my eye, and tells me to look a certain way while she’s staring through a microscope at my eyeball.  Then all of a sudden I see a needle, she wipes away some sort of fluid, and boom.   Done.  We went back to the Peace Corps office while my eye drop prescription was getting filled and I did some online research and really by "cyst" what they really meant was "blister".  Equally as gross.  Don't ask me how I managed that.  

So now, boys a girls, I have to wear glasses for the next 2 weeks while I take these eyedrops 4 times a day that’s going to make my eye feel better.  The funny thing is that now that it feels better, the other one feels crappy in comparison.  But I’ll be damned if I get a needle stuck in that eye too!  One eye at a time!  At least I got some taco mix, fajita seasoning, a sweet sweater, and a sleeping bag out of my trip to Kiev as well.

On a similarly amusing note, we finished our final project with MoZART Tuesday afternoon with a half-day workshop on how to diversify funding sources for an NGO. The workshop was a success and because the director loves us, he invited us to the organization picnic that was that afternoon.   Vitaly, the Director, was also getting ready to go on vacation for a few weeks, so the party was sort of a good-bye/thank you volunteers/thank you staff party.  Let the picnic, food and toasts begin.  After about 2 rounds of toasts (a round=3 shots…so after 6 shots of vodka), or “suggestions” as our Ukrainian friends were referring to them as, we started to play some games including charades and some type of dancing/singing game. We were all feeling nice and sociable, and Rachel’s bladder was full.  So she, Mike and I head to the outhouse (which is literally a hole in the ground. . . see where I’m going with this?) There were two toilets, so me, being the generous soul, let Mike and Rachel go first.  And then I hear a “plunk” and a very loud “oh shit!”  The rest shall be told as I remember it (through the uncontrollable laughter that almost made me pee my pants)

Rachel: Fuck! My fucking camera just fell in the shitter! Jessie what do I do?!

Me: Leave it!

Rachel: Leave it?!!!  No way man!  Those are my precious memories on that camera!!! Mike help me!  Find something to get it out with!

Mike: (Mike runs to the nearby trees) Here, take a stick.

Rachel: Okay thanks!  (Rachel squatting over the toilet, trying to grab the strap of the camera covered in poop with a stick.  Man, I wish I had MY camera!!  She finally gets it, and wouldn’t you know it, the camera slides off the stick and back into the toilet)

Mike and Me: Rachel what are you doing?!

She finally pulls the camera out of the toilet with the stick and it is all shitty (the puns could go on all day)

Rachel: Mike quick! I have some toilet paper in my bag go get it for me so I can wash it off!

Mike: Oh Jesus. Okay. 

At this point, instead of getting the TP, Mike promptly runs to where Elizabeth and Jason are screaming, “JASON!  Rachel just dropped her camera in the shitter!”, turns around and bolts back to where Rachel’s bag is.  Where am I this whole time?  Watching Rachel a laughing. . . of course.  Mike comes back with something better than toilet paper…paper towel!

Mike: Here ya go Rachel. .  I can’t believe you just did that.

So, she walks up the stairs all the while saying, “ew ew ew”, washed off the camera in the sink.  Mad props to that girl. She disinfected her hands about 4 times, but I still wouldn’t shake her hand.  Ew.  Moral of this story?  Don’t bring your camera to the bathroom with you.  Duh.