Luba's Lament

Luba comes into my room and gives me a stern look. "Spat y intephet, spat y intephet," she says, shaking her head. It’s a loose transliteration and mixture of English and Russian meaning “all you do is sleep and use the internet, sleep and use the internet.” I call it Luba’s lament.

She thinks it's a very unbalanced life. I think she thinks most Americans are like this and, what’s more, and regrettably, so are more and more Ukrainians, her grandkids included.

It's the pre-industrial/post-industrial paradigm at play in daily village life. It’s a reality, this dichotomy; it still exists. So for someone like Luba, who goes 24/7 at a day job, in her garden at seasonal tasks, and in her kitchen preserving, preparing, and cooking the produce from her garden, it's hard to understand someone who spends hours at the computer.

I've tried to explain my behavior to Luba, sounding a bit defensive probably. I check my email, I tell her. I Skype. I connect with Facebook. I keep in touch with family and friends. I google. I google translate. I WORK on the computer, writing grants and reports and doing research. Lots of research. I upload and download my photos. I try to organize myself. I think on the computer. I write. In fact I mostly write, I tell her, trying to justify what looks like lax behavior.

It’s an interesting phenomenon. This little dialogue, which seems so mundane, actually encompasses a massive historical drama. Right now in Ukraine, we are living in the midst of the economic and social transformation that took place in America in the 19th and 20th centuries. We are experiencing it as it is taking place. I think of it, most of the time, as a rare privilege. How many of us can actually experience this transition that we have read about, studied, analyzed?

This is why Luba wonders if I get anything "real" done, "real work" that is. I'm at the computer when she leaves the house. I'm at it when she comes home. She doesn’t read my blogs. She doesn't understand online research. Writing is not real work. She doesn’t see me going during the day. She usually asks if I was home all day when she gets in the door. I quickly say “Niet, ya rabotat!” She looks at me with some doubt.

Ah geez. Maybe Luba's right. Spat y intephet. Maybe I need to change my post-industrial rhythms. Add more balance to my life. Even so, I couldn't keep up with Luba. And I wonder if Luba will be able to keep up with the economic transformation and changing social relations taking place in Ukraine now. Luba’s lament echoes through the ages.