Remembering my life in Ukraine

Just after we moved in, a former student of mine came and visited with her husband. I had seen her a number of years ago when I'd first moved to the Netherlands, but hadn't connected with her until she'd asked if she could stay with me during a trip to Amsterdam. Delighting in the chance to extend hospitality to another, I gladly said yes.

The best part of the visit was remembering. Both my former student and I have had many different experiences in the ten years since we'd lived together in the dormitory in Nagybereg, Ukraine; yet, those years at the gymnasium have certainly remained a unique experience.

I remember crying at the end of that first week in Ukraine - simply from the shock of realizing how much my time there would shape and change me. I had been told I'd share teaching responsibilities with the wife of someone I'd met and respected. Instead, I was sharing the responsibilities with a Ukrainian woman and an older dutch woman, who I quickly realized was not really interested in listening to me. And after a week of living in a foreign country surrounded by a language I did not know, teaching at a level and in a way that I'd had limited experience doing, it did not take much for me to realize that my time there had the possibility for stretching and challenging me enormously.

My former student and I had to laugh about the food and the crazy schedule there. There were almost no vegetables; so the one time a week we got this great tomato, onion, and pepper concoction, I'd try to catch up on all the vegetables I'd missed. Seeing as we'd have it for breakfast, it meant that I'd spend the rest of the day with a stomach that sometimes needed to adjust to this 'foreign' food. And there were, of course, strange foods like pasta and crushed walnuts and tomato sauce with potatoes. And then one time someone found maggots in the food (a result of canned beans that hadn't been sealed properly); that casserole option was quickly banned for the rest of that year.

And as for the schedule? I'd wake up at 5:50, so I could get a hot shower. Breakfast was at 7. Teaching began at 7:30 (although I usually had the first class free - except if the schedule got spontaneously changed the night before - which happened about once a week!). Lunch was at 1:30, chores thereafter, study hall from 4-7, dinner at 7, and quiet time around 9:30. At the end of the second year, I was teaching all of the English classes (and typing classes - a total of about forty 45-minute class sessions per week, of which slightly more than half were minimal to no extra prep-time) - and the only thing that made that crazy schedule bearable was the knowledge that the students were working just as hard.

Amidst the crazy food and the crazy schedule, what made it all bearable was the fact that you knew that we had each other: others would help you out and cared for you. Outside of the school, I had my church and family back home and the students had their families who supported them and wanted very much for them to have this chance to make a different life for themselves. After all, life for Hungarians in that part of Ukraine was hard: financially, physically and emotionally. I don't remember any house in a village that didn't have an outhouse (and with Ukrainian winters, they were freezing!!). And everyone had a story of someone they knew dying tragically on account of poor health care or corruption. When there was flooding in the region during my second year, the students worried that their house (or that of their relatives) might be affected, which would be the end of everything as there was no insurance to protect them or cover their losses. And because of that, one would worry if others from another village might come and sabotage the defenses of another village - in the hopes of causing the damage to go elsewhere and their own property might be saved.

When you're 22 (the age I was when moved there), you have the idea that you can change the world. But at 22, no matter how well-traveled you are or how perceptive you might be, that world is a lot more complicated than you first expect. Living in a village in rural Ukraine, in the middle of the Hungarian-Ukrainian students, I did my best to become part of that world without losing who I was. I came to Ukraine with the hope of  making a difference and change at least a part of the world - and in the end, it was I who was changed (with the hopes that my time there also changed other's lives).

looking back - another odd accomplishment

i had the privilege of visiting an old student of mine a couple of weeks ago. and memories of my time teaching english in Ukraine came back to me. that time was challenging and even hard at times, but it was always good. after all, i was surrounded by a community that cared for me and i for them (i think my love for the community and life here was nurtured in that boarding school in Ukraine). and besides that, it was another place where life was rarely ever dull!

a friend of mine recently came back from Zambia and had some wonderful stories to tell about her experience there. when she started to talking about travelling - and the craziness of arranging rides, either by official taxis or more a sort of hitchhiking, i had to laugh about how much it reminded me of some of my travelling adventures in Ukraine. sometimes it was simple to travel - but a lot of times it had its challenges.

i still remember one time when i had stayed alone on a friday night with some of the students because there was a math and english competition in Beregszasz on the saturday. while we were waiting for a ride, i ran back to the dormitory to get something i had forgotten (an umbrella, i think!) and while i was rushing, the bus/taxi thing came. the girls made it to Beregszasz early enough - but the boys chose to give up their seats to wait for me. so we were stuck in Bereg waiting for a bus/van that wasn't coming. and we'd already waited long enough - and who knows who long it would be before anything else came?

so i decided that we should hitchhike (i'd then lived there long enough to consider hitchhiking a normal mode of transportation - and i even, perhaps naively, considered myself good at it). the three teenage boys all kind of looked at me like i was crazy: who would ever give a ride to us? but i figured it was my fault that we had missed the bus - and i knew that something had to happen or we'd be late - and what else could i do? besides, it wouldn't hurt, would it?

so the boys let me stand there - and i went closer to the road so people could see me - and they kind of stood away from me. i'm not sure if they stood so far away because they wanted to pretend they didn't know me or because they just wanted to be in a more comfortable place while waiting for the next taxi/bus. after a few minutes (maybe 10 at the most), some middle-aged man stopped to pick me up. i told him that i was going to Beregszasz - and was it okay if he took me and my students? i'm not sure who was more surprised at that point: the man, who instead of only having the pretty young teacher in his car he now had 3 teenage boys as well? or the three teenage guys, surprised that i actually could get us a ride? ah, well, the man did have a good talk with one of the boys on the way to Beregszasz i remember. and i still remember being pretty proud of myself - for surprising everybody and making sure we got there on time :)

and the story reminds me again of all the surprises that happen when one lives in a different country. i have to smile at all of the strange challenges and odd accomplishments that i couldn't help but manage to collect.

so Ukrainian and Dutch passports are almost exactly the same colour

when i went to Ukraine on 27 january, i entered the country in a ukrainian car with with 4 Ukrainians (with whom i spoke limited hungarian and never even tried english). as we were waiting in line to cross and i was getting ready to fill out the paper i filled out last time (passport info and reason for visit), for whatever reason (i don't think money was involved although it's possible), we were bumped into a second shorter line. our driver showed our passports (all five looking the same when seen as a pile), and i never ever filled out that paper. i never asked the driver for a paper because his job is actually to take people across the border (so i assumed he knew what he was doing), and i never said, hey can we go back to the border guard because i think i need a little paper (because Ukraine is not really the kind of country where you politely ask somebody if they know what they're doing -even if competency is generally lower than other places, questioning competency is equivalent to suggesting that you'd like to give them a bribe).

so i hoped for the best...

as i was leaving the country on 7 february, the border guard asked for half of the paper i never filled out. (the border keeps one copy and the visitor keeps the other half in their visa). the borderguard said that losing that paper would cost me 500 grivnya (a 100 US dollars). i said that i'd never gotten a paper. he insisted that i'd lost it. and the penalty was 350 grivnya (not sure if the original border guard gave the new price or if someone else had gotten involved by then and had quoted that fee - but the suspiciously quick change of fines made it fairly obvious that it was less of a penalty and more of a bribe). i remained insistent that i'd never filled out a paper. (and i had a stamp in my passport from entering so they couldn't charge me with entering illegally.) so they went to look for the paper. and i and my friend and the driver taking us waited. and we developed the theory that when i went into the country they never really looked closely at the pile of same-coloured passports - and just let us all in.

and we waited. eventually my passport returned from the other office. and a bit later we were allowed to talk to them again. they never acknowledged that they hadn't found the other half of my paper (although by not insisting again on a fine indicates that they hadn't) but instead asked when i wanted to come back again. i said summer (through the driver). they said i should have known better about not filling in the paper (i had but thought that questioning a Ukrainian border guard who had let me in without the proper paperwork had more potential problems than trying to get out without that paperwork - not sure if i was right). and because i should have known, i was going to be banned from entering Ukraine for 6 months (if you do the math, i could return again on August 8). seeing as they had asked me when i wanted to return before telling me that i was banned for an amount of time that they now knew could be inconvenient me, this sounded suspiciously like bribe potential and less of a policy. i was somewhat indifferent to their threat - having my passport say that i was banned from Ukraine seemed a rather fascinating experience that actually had no consequences on my life as no country outside of Ukraine would find their 'ban' of my entering Ukraine that relevant - and Ukraine's system is not so advanced that this ban would register if i used my other passport - one of the joys of being a double citizen. however, the driver and my friend didn't quite recognize that Ukraine's border policy whims could really have no effect on my life - and also thought it ridiculous that the border guards could suggest that i should be punished for what was really their mistake - and thus told them that this was not acceptable. off went my passport again with someone else, we waited some more, and eventually with no explanation (but finally stamped) my passport was returned to me.

we had waited a bit over an hour in total. but we had paid no extra money. and somewhat to my disappointment (the thought of me being considered dangerous amuses me), i didn't get anything in my passport banning me from returning to Ukraine (at least not officially - although i might take my other passport next time - and i have an extra copy of the paper for next time :))

and well, that's Ukraine. it was the first time i really had problems crossing the border, though. well, except for a ten minute discussion another time about not having a different paper in my passport (i had crossed into Ukraine at a different place which hadn't given out those papers). oh, and i've been hit on by border guards - i think it had more to do with the fact that most people don't see a lot of Canadian passports :)

i always have loved the great adventures of 'regular' life in Ukraine, so it's no wonder that i appreciate the adventure of living with the community in Amsterdam - in the 'zoo' that i call my crazy family.