Ukraine is to vodka as Germany is to lederhosen

Last night, Rachel’s host sister was turning 21, so she invited us over to pre-game and then go to a disco. First, off, let me say this (and believe me. . I never thought this could be more true)- once people start drinking, it doesn’t matter what language you speak. . . you’re going to understand each other. There were 4 Americans there, all from my cluster (language group), and we were those awkward people hanging out in the corner while everyone was getting ready. I swear, they were about 20 times WORSE than anyone I've ever met when it came to the amount of time it took them to prep to go out. AND, they get twice as made up than anyone I've ever known. . . . . Maybe that's why it takes them twice as long? Who knows. Moral of the story is this- you step outside here, you better be made up from head to toe and look presentable. Because if not, you're a shlub. And I, my friends, am totally a shlub- I'm cool with that.

Anyways, back to the story. . . . then the vodka shots began. Sidenote: For those of you who remember me from high school, you remember the last time I took vodka shots. For those of you who didn’t know me, let’s just say that vodka isn’t my strong suit. Ok, back to the story- vodka shots. I got up to 4, and then stopped. There was one kid in my cluster who got up to 6 or something. I think I asked at one point to one of the Ukrainians how many shots he’s had, and he goes, “we don’t count. We just drink.” Oh, and while the party started with no adults around, it ended with the host mom coming home and hanging out with us, drinking a few shots, finding one of the couples doing bad stuff on her bed, and kicking some people out. This was all before 12:30am, mind you. By the time that happened, it was only me and Rachel representing the Americans, and everyone wanted to talk to us and was very impressed that we were still there. By the time I left, we were still hanging out at the apartment, 2 shot glasses has been broken, there had been about 5-10 party fouls (shockingly, none of them were by me), and people were checking out my new rad “going out” sneaks that I had purchased that day at the bizarre for $20. They’re pretty.

Here are some pics (I don't have my own because while I own a camera, apparently I refuse to use it. . . it doesn't fit in my pants. So I stole Rachel's pics- hope she doesn't mind!)

Cheersing the birthday girl

Me, Jason and Elizabeth (my cluster mates)

Rachel (on the left), Alona (the hairstylist who will be cutting my hair and who I desperately want to be my friend), and Sasha, the guy that Rachel's host mom is trying to set her up with- matchmakers aren't just a Jew thing, apparently

Random pic and the only one I took: My host family's dog. I'm obsessed.

Highlights from the Party
-My name being “Jessee-ka”, because apparently Jessie is not a name here.
-The birthday girl’s mom coming in and smoking hukah with us
-Me trading English lessons for free haircuts with the birthday girl’s sister (who, for all intensive purposes, could be a Williamsburg hipster transported to Ukraine)
-Me actually remembering all the night’s events and not getting sick from the vodka (yay me! MAJOR feat!)
-Rachel and I finding out that “cake” in Ukraine is really more of a big cookie, and kind of tastes like astronaut food.
-Rachel and I making a lot of Ukrainian friends- which just goes to show you what drunk people can accomplish.
-Me making the best analogy ever about Ukraine and vodka. That is the title of this blog. Enough said.