Save the Pipes

I'm trying to make an adventure out of staying at Peace Corps headquarters in Kiev with a broken arm.

I'm here because I have to be. PC policy. I've been here a week. I can't go back to Starobilsk until the doctors in Washington review my xrays and tell the doctors in Ukraine what they see and what they recommend. So I am trying to make do. I feel a little like Don Quixote on an adventure with no Sancho Panza at my side.

I encounter many interesting people. I join lots of good conversations. I just encountered Peter and Marianne McQuire, for instance. This middle-aged couple is from Georgia Tech country. They are now PCVs teaching at universities in Khargiv. Erica, a young woman at the Close of Service, joins us.

We talk about teaching. We talk about the educational system in Ukraine. They express concern that students here are not taught critical thinking. Just the opposite. Erica adds concern about cheating and the pressure to pass tests.

We talk about the weather, and how hard it is to get heat in winter. Fuel from Russia (gas and oil), on which Ukraine depends, is very expensive, and therefore very precious and doled out with great concern for cost.

That's why some cities don't turn on the central heating system until mid-November, no matter what the temperature outside, Pete says. No matter that it's below freezing and so cold in the schools that kids have to be sent home.

This is the situation in Starobilsk now, I add. Vera, my counterpart at NGO Victoria, emailed me that it is too cold to go into the office. Below zero at night and only up to about 8 degrees celsius during the day. Kids are on vacation until the heat is turned on, she's not sure when that will be.

Mariane says that at her univerity "they turn on the heat only a few hours a night, to keep the pipes from freezing." No heat the rest of the day, during classes, when people are in the building.

"Then why save the pipes," Erica asks. Hmm. Good question! Save the pipes, freeze the people. A catch 22 Ukraine story.

I ask Vasyl, the regional manager for region 6, which includes my oblast, Lugansk, and also Khargiv oblast, about this. He says Ukraine goes through this crisis year after year after year.

On December 31 every year the government makes decisions about gas and oil and prices, and every year it's the same result. Vasyl thinks the government just wants to spoil the holidays that fill the calender in January, beginning with New Year's and orthodox Christmas. It's nothing new. It's the same old thing.

Are there any options? Vasyl says yes, and cites the example of the Baltic countries after gaining their independence. They invested in energy options and self-sufficiency. Why not Ukraine, then? Because of the relationship with Russia. It affects prices and availability. Russia is obsessed with the pipelines and wants to control them. They want to save the pipes for themselves.

Save the Pipes is a cause without a constituency.

All the people want is to be warm in winter, to be able to turn on the heat when the temperature drops to the point where schools and institutions have to be closed and you can't go to work.

Makes sense. But then, common sense is often in short supply when you need it the most. Maybe a common sense solution that meets the needs of the people is just a pipe dream afterall, as Vasyl thinks.

Nah, the Amerikankas say. It's just a matter of time. New leadership. Hope.

"To dream the impossible dream....to right the unrightable wrong....to reach the unreachable star....this is my quest," sings Don Quixote in "The Man from LaMancha," the musical version of Cervantes' novel.

The spirit of Don Quixote lives on in Ukraine, through the quest for adventure of its Peace Corps Volunteers. It might be the best thing we do.

Peace Corps Headquarters

It's a bustling place, 24/7. I never realized it. PCVs come from all over Ukraine at all times of the day and night. They come for doctors visits, medications, routine check-ups, shots. They stop here when they are traveling around the country or abroad. It's only a few blocks from the Voksal, the train station, and not far from the airport. Almost all international flights leave from Kiev.

They come for required visits, meetings, workshops and seminars. The working groups of Peace Corps UA meet here--grant review committees, the environmental group, the gender group, the gay and lesbian group, the IT group, the "Give me your Best Shot" committee (we send photos and they pick 12 for an annual PC calender, for sale).

Kiev, the beautiful capital, is the hub of the country, and it is also the hub of all PC activity. I have been here since 21 October and have met at least 40 PCVs. That part's been great. Jason made it here from his little town in Crimea, in a cast, and has already left. He fell over his bike going down a mountain, admiring the view. His break is near his wrist, and he's mending fast.

I've met several PCVs I had communicated with when I learned I was accepted into the Peace Corps, like Ken Mattingly (KY) and Chuck McConnell (TX), and now I've seen them in person. A real treat. I've greeted friends from group 36, whom I haven't seen since we took off for our sites on June 19. A nice chance to compare notes about our work, our challenges, our successes. I was especially happy to see John Guy Laplante, at 80 the oldest PCV in Ukraine. He's been in Chernigov for 2 years andwill be going home to Connecticut soon, a real trooper!

Many PCVs, like John, are at COS, Close of Service. It's their last three months in Ukraine and they are in Kiev for COS conference, final medical exams, reports and debriefs. Lots of paperwork, one couple said. These PCVs have served for over 2 years, learned a lot, grown and changed, and now they are excited to be going home. Erica, a young woman who served in Dnipropetrovsk, said "my world has been completely opened." A few are extending their service, staying here in Ukraine or going to another site.

Many younger PCVs are taking the GRE and LSAT tests and hope to go to graduate school or law school. Lindsay wants to go to Columbia Law School and work in international human rights law. Her experience in an orphanage in Jankoye, where they kick kids out on their 16th birthday, is one motivator. "It's our worst birthday," one child told her. This young girl has to go back to her drug addicted mother, who also abused her, or live on the streets, which many do. Lindsay is heartbroken about this situation.

Carey will get his PhD in international business development. Laura is extending for a year and will then go to nursing school; she wants to work for a group like Doctors Without Borders. Ken is applying for the Foreign Service. Amy is applying for jobs with international companies, hoping to use her Russian language skills. Andi wants to continue working for the Peace Corps in an administrative capacity. Evan is going back to Concord, NH, where, we just discovered, he and his family are friends with my cousins, the Kings. Small world. Evan is thinking about teaching English in South Korea. Seth will study environmental education in Minnesota, then teach around the world.

In his timeless song, John Lennon sings: "Imagine all the people, Living life in peace....You may say I'm a dreamer, But I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, And the world will live as one."

These dedicated and thoughtful Americans are making the world a better place. They have a world of experiences under their belts. With John Lennon, they imagine a world united, a world at peace. They imagine they have a part to play.

Peace Corps headquarters: command central for world change and world peace, from the bottom up.

My Fall

I was warned about winter--short days, cold, bad roads, ice. Danger of falling. But Monday October 19 was a blue-sky autumn day, gold leaves falling to the ground, sunny and bright. I went to Victoria's, then to the Library, then to Sergei's store to buy cartridges for my printer and a ream of paper. My backpack and my bike basket were loaded down. I decided to go home for lunch, then meet Helen, the teacher.

I waited for the light to change, started walking my bike across the street, then saw a huge truck barreling down on me, horn blaring. I started to get on my bike to peddle across the road faster. That's when it happened: I fell, my bike fell, my stuff went flying, and I was on my left side, sharp shooting pain in my upper left arm and shoulder. I was in trouble. The truck passed me and kept going, no problem.

My winter came early. But for the kindness of strangers I might still be lying in the road. A young man and wonderful woman got my stuff and me across the road. I didn't need to speak Russian for them to get the message that I needed help. Soon another young man came with ice to put on my shoulder, the ambulence came, Luba and Sergei came. I was screaming in pain, but I was in good hands. I was taken to the hospital, had an xray, and the nice doctor told me the news: I had broken my arm, a fracture near my left shoulder.

Weak with pain, I had to notify the Peace Corps as soon as I got home. Now a whole new journey began. I was told I had to go to PC headquarters in Kiev to have their doctors look at me. It is PC policy and procedure. On Tuesday it was a two-hour bus ride to Lugansk, a 15-hour train ride to Kiev, me and my tylenol. I felt sorry for the nice young couple and their 14 year-old daughter sharing my coupe (4 bunks, upper and lower across from each other) because I groaned and moaned all night long. I was miserable company.

But I made it to Kiev, was met at the train, and have been well cared for. Great doctor, another Xray and an MRI disclosed a worse break than first thought. I will stay here for the weekend. Dr. Yuriy has to send the Xrays and reports to Washington, get their interpretation, and then let me go. I hope I can go back to Starobilsk on Monday. I'm missing some meetings and my English Club. But it's the way it is. I'm (re)learning patience. I will take it one day at a time, heal, and go on.

As I am about to call it a day, I get more news: I am not alone, Barbara emails from Simferopol, another PCV in my group 36, Jason, just fell and broke his arm. He's on his way to Kiev. My fellow PCVs from across Ukraine are emailing and calling and sending flower photos. "But Fran, we hope you haven't started some kind of trend here. We don't need THAT much adventure"!

Pokrava

NOTE: This post was written before My Fall, but a good reminder of our blessings when we need it most. From Kiev, with love, Fran.

Pokrova is an Orthodox religious holiday in Ukraine, symbolizing the covering of Mary, the Holy Mother, and her protection of God's children.

It has been joined by a secular harvest celebration as well, a sort of Ukrainian Thanksgiving. It's a day for giving thanks, recognizing the bounties of nature, acknowledging the transition from Autumn to winter.

I joined a throng of people on the campus of the university and teacher's institute in Starobilsk for the Pokrova holiday on October 14. It was wonderful.

People say it usually snows on this day. Not this year. The day was sunny and balmy, the foliage at its peak of yellow, gold and orange. The leaves fell gently to the ground, covering it like a blanket covering the Virgin Mary. Svyato Pokrova.

There were dozens of tables featuring traditional and modern Ukrainian cuisine -- borscht, verneky, fall vegetables, lots of grapes, fresh bread and baked goods. Many hosts were dressed in traditional Ukrainian clothing, embroidered and colorful. The college staged a program of Ukrainian songs and dances. The Starobilsk Cultural Center sponsored a folklife festival featuring Ukrainian artists and their works in different mediums.

I was happy to see Leonid Nicholyovich of the Cultural Center, as well as Helen (Lena), the daughter of Vera Flyat, director of NGO Victoria, displaying her beautiful folk art paintings.

I enjoyed walking around the campus with Natalia, meeting her students and fellow professors. I also ran into some of the members of our English Club. PCV Mike Young joined us, a bowl of borscht in his hands. We later had a special lunch in Natalia's office and I got to meet Victor, the German language professor, and a delightful host.

It was a special day. Pokrova reminds us that the bounties of nature cover planet earth and should be shared by all, and that we have much for which to be thankful.

Anton the Poet

"Autumn lives in me."

I have met Ukraine's next poet laureate. If there isn't such a post now, a new president should create one.

Anton is a handsome young man, maybe in his 30s. He loves to read and write. He loves books. He's read widely in Ukrainian and Russian literature, of course, but also in the literatures of other countries. He's read the whole Bible for it's stories and spiritual sustenance.

Reading for Anton is a painstaking process, but he can't stop. He loves words. He loves to see them, savour them, turn them around into his own poems and stories.

Anton is almost blind. He has no sight in his right eye, and very little in his left eye. He was born with this condition, which he says is glaucoma but I wonder if it might be something else, what I don't know. Times like this I wish I was in a large city with a topnotch medical center. I'd refer Anton to the best medical care available. I have this feeling that Anton's sight might have been saved if he had been treated earlier and with more expertise. I don't know this for sure, just a feeling. I keep it to myself.

Anton keeps writing. It's his saving grace. His greatest supporters, he says, are his mother, a librarian, and Rosalie, the love of his life who lives in Israel. She's much older than he, but he loves older women. They share a passion for poetry and words. Roasalie will be visiting soon, and he hopes he'll be able to visit her in Israel one day. He also has a fat cat,Trey, whom he adores. Trey keeps him company. "I read my poetry to him," he says with a smile. "Very good critic!"

Today over tea I tell Anton I love the fall. "Autumn lives in me," he says. What do you mean? "I mean that sadness lives in me." I look puzzled. "I see the world through sadness." What a pity, I reply. "No no," he answers. "It's good, it's okay. I find happiness and goodness from that source."

Anton is compiling his poems into a book. He's calling this volume "Almost Twins." Why "almost" twins, I ask. "Because it's me and my talent, we are twins, but my talent is bigger than me," he explains.

Poets are complicated people. I decide not to try to make sense of all this. I listen and absorb the spirit of it. Such a brilliant spirit it is! Full of light. Anton, the poet laureate of Ukraine.

Now

Haight-Asbury, San Francisco, Annpan,
flickr photo

I once met a woman named Now.

She lived in California and was married to an architect. She had changed her name from Laura, I think it was, to Now to give full expression to her belief in the teachings of great gurus from the Buddha to contemporaries such as Deepak Chopra, popular now pioneer, and Eckhart Tolle, author of "The Power of Now."

I met Now at a summer camp outside of San Jose founded many years ago by family therapist pioneer Virginia Satir. A friend in Toledo, Ohio, Bill Jones (photo upper right), wrote a doctoral dissertation on Satir's work and introduced me to the camp that celebrates and continues her work to this day.

Now also believes in Satir. Satir believed in the power of caring and acceptance to help people face their fears and grow into loving human beings. Her contributions to clinical theory and practice are legendary. Now was an avid apostle.

I think of Now from time to time. When I'm not where I am supposed to be, you might say. When I am in the past and not in the now, in The Who's then rather than their now. When I'm thinking at all. Or when I'm in the future, wondering where I'll be in 2 years, after my Peace Corps assignment is over. Where will I live? What will I do? I think of Now at times like these.

It's good to be present and mindful where you are. For me that means being in my daily life as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Starobilsk. As Tolle followers remind us, the past is gone; it's over. Nothing we can do about it. The future doesn't exist. All we have is the now, living in the moment, savoring it. It's a lesson hammered home in many an Al Anon group, too.

This morning I woke up thinking about Now. Somewhere in my dream world came the idea that there is a ying and yang to the power of now. I was dreaming about anger.

When you are angry, you are fully in the now. You are angry at a friend for not meeting your needs, which you didn't share with her. A friend is angry with you because you didn't meet her unspoken expectations.

Anger in the now means forgetting, even temporarily, the good times of the past. When you are angry at someone now, you forget about how kind, how sweet, that person was then, how generous and giving. You are just in the now, you and your anger.

There's a ying and a yang to everything it seems. Even the now. That's how Now comes to me from time to time.

I haven't seen Now since I met her 5 years ago. I wonder how she is. Has she changed her name again? Has the now been good to her? But, wait. Stop! Let me move on. That's the past. The future isn't here. We only have the now.

Many Cups of Tea

tea is served The common humanity that unites us.

At least twice a week I have tea with Ukrainians and learn new things, gather more stories. Some are happy stories, some sad, some daily life stories. Recently I had tea with Lena, Anton, Olga and Tonya, and Sergei and his friend Nina.

Lena, a teacher, is upset about an exam held in Lugansk for students interested in a school year in the U.S. PCVs in our oblast distributed flyers about the program to their schools. I did the same in Starobilsk. I didn't get the details but Lena feels her student was not treated well. She wants to write a letter.

Anton, a talented writer, is dealing with the loss of his eyesight. How I wish I could help him with that. He's busy compiling his poems into a book, watched over by his beloved cat Trey. He's a complicated person, with a poet's sensibilities.

Tea with Sergei (blog posting) and Nina, a Ukrainian who lives in America and is here for her annual visit, reveals a painful story. Nina's husband has been in jail in Uzbekistan for ten years, for political activities. She can visit him once a year, which she does, and that's it. Maybe he will be free in a year or two, she says softly. Nina is an educated woman working as a waitress in Spokane, Washington, supporting her four children through school. Life has been one struggle after another for Nina, and it has taken its toll. As my poet friend Anton might say, "sadness lives in her."

Sharing tea with Olga and Tonya is like being with good friends back in America. Through a combination of Russian, English and French we laugh our way through funny happenings and mishaps. Olga is a young retired French teacher. Tonya still teaches English. They tease each other about whose English is worse. Tonya thinks Olga needs a man in her life. Olga agrees! But, she laments, no men meet her standards. Tonya and I suggest French or American men, but Olga blushes and says maybe she is getting too old for that. Tonya breaks into an Edith Piaf love song. She sounds exactly like Piaf. What a great discovery this is! Let's have an evening of songs, I say. "Oui, with vodka," Olga adds.
Many cups of tea with Iryna, the director of the Library, led to the English club. Tea with Natalie led to her grant proposal for a special English course. Tea with Mike helped me with a Peace Corps report. Tea with Asya gives me ideas for teaching English.Never underestimate the power of a cup of tea, as Greg Mortenson tells us in his book Three Cups of Tea, about working for peace in the mountain villages of Pakistan.
In Ukraine, too, it's the fuel that moves mountains and sparks creative energy. It's all about building relationships, making friends, and seeing the common humanity that unites us.

Hope

Drawing by a school girl, Creative Arts Center, Nishon, Ukraine, outside of Chernigov.



Hope springs eternal. We were told during our 3-months training in Chernigov that good results come in small steps. Nothing earth shattering. It takes time to learn a new language. It takes time to gain trust, to build connections. Relationships are more important than schedules. Seasoned PCVs say it is the one-year mark that makes the difference. My group 36 has 9 more months to go to get to that milestone.

Meanwhile we plug away, hoping something good will come of it. It feels great when things go well. like having a lively English club meeting, or participating in an interesting workshop, or seeing the young girls I tutor, Helen and recently Viola, make progress in English.


I'm not as good in Russian as Helen or Viola are in English, but I am able to recognize more words and read more signs. I practice the language, check my dictionary, and make notes before doing anything like going to a restaurant, a store, getting a haircut, greeting friends. I have my sentences at the ready. But if anyone goes "off script," as PCV friend Jud puts it, I am at a loss for (Russian) words.

Still, it's nice to walk into a beauty shop, as I did last week, and hear people's excitement at having an American in their midst. Heck, I can risk a bad haircut for the pleasure of that. I pull out my piece of paper with the words, haircut, color, trim, and not too short (!) written in Russian. Knowing smiles fill the salon. As it turns out, I get the best hair cut ever. A beautiful cut. No risk, no gain! I'll go back to Nastia at On y Ona (Him and Hers) again, for sure.

On another day I was strolling through the bazaar on my way to NGO Victoria when I heard someone call my name. Wow, that's a first. Did I hear that right? I looked around and there was Tonya, arms outstretched, one of the women with whom I went to Berdyansk on the sea of Azov.

Little things mean a lot. Disappointment and hope. They are all part of the Peace Corps experience.

Disappointment

Fall, and the last rose of summer, in Luba's garden

The deadline for submitting a draft proposal to the Peace Corps in Kiev came and went. We didn't make it.

It's difficult to work on a complex project without an interpreter. This was the first disappointment. The second, not making the deadline, is related. The language barrier is too great.

It's also difficult to coordinate busy schedules. Hard as I tried, I couldn't coordinate enough times when both the NGO director and my interpreter, PCV colleague Mike Young, could meet. It just didn't happen.

Mike and I have been "exchanging currencies," as the Peace Corps puts it. Mike, who majored in Russian in college and is a TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) teacher at the university, was helping me translate and I was helping him and Natalia with their proposal for an English course for high school students taking a national proficiency exam. I like their proposal to give equal opportunity to rural kids in eastern Ukraine to take and pass the test. I hope it gets funded.

NGO Victoria's human rights project is also a good one. But all projects take collaboration and wide-ranging input from a project team, and without that it couldn't get done.

Disappointment. Perhaps it was meant to be. There's always another deadline. Maybe we'll aim for that.