World Cup Weekly

There were a number of things I was planning on writing about since my last post . . . The Tchaikovsky museum (here is a picture of what is perhaps Swan Lake, but painfully beautiful regardless),

the indoctrination of some of my students at a Russian Orthodox convent (difficult to see for one who believes strongly in a separation of church and state), and a number of other things, but alas I am remiss in my documentation. By the way, I do have some new albums up on Facebook. The links are here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2090843&id=17600435&l=080a13623e

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2090840&id=17600435&l=24a883c08

You don’t need to be a Facebook member to see the pictures, just click on the link and you should be fine.

What else has happened in the meantime? Well, one Ski Krieger, and I regret that he will not read this public denunciation, had decided that he would like to step out of my shadow (a shadow so big it encompasses all of Ukraine, or Україна, as they say here) and gone home to sunny Salt Lake City (I hear they have the best beer in Utah). I have lost my passport bidding young Ski adieu. I have watched the United States soccer team draw two matches (really, we can’t beat Slovenia, it’s hardly even an independent country). I have watched almost every other World Cup game. I have bought tickets to Georgia (Republic of, not state of) for an August vacation. I have bought tickets home to the land of the free in October for a 10 day visit. And finally, I have looked as Un-Ukrainian as humanly possible at a local bar, all the while counting down the days to the arrival of my parents and sister and then of course the arrival of the one we have affectionately called Bayside, and the One Man Party: Dan Moriarty. For those of you who have not yet planned to visit me, do not be alarmed you still have 17 months left, but don’t delay they go faster than you think.

First, on to the departure of the young Ski: Good riddance, we don’t take kindly to intellectual folk like you, anyway. My only regret with Ski is that at no time did I make abundantly clear the level of absolute disdain I have for him, and his kind (smart Libertarians). But, in seriousness, I do regret Ski’s departure, however he moves on to greener pastures in the world of academe. The young scholar is however, required to make a trip back to Eurasia before I leaveUkraine, namely to the tumultuousKyrgyz Republic.

As I mentioned, it was in seeing Ski off (kind of) that I lost my passport. It is not a comfortable feeling to walk around without your passport, and have all the places you call not know where it is (or what you’re saying in a pidgin form of their language). It was unfortunate, but I resigned myself to getting a new passport, with the help of the embassy in Kyiv, and hoping for it to come prior to my trip to Krakow and Budapest. To see Ski off I went up to Kyiv, to meet up with him, and our friend Sam. We did many things in Kyiv, but most revolved around walking around the main sights Independence Square, and Kreschatyk, and then drinking beer. Unfortunately the bar was out of Guinness, and Newcastle just does not travel well. When it was time to leave, we decided that we all might as well go back to where I live, so really it was an anti-climactic farewell. So, we jumped on a trail at 11:30 PM, after a classy meal of McDonalds and wine near the train station. We stumbled into my town (because of sleepiness, not the oil of conversation), at about 4:30 in the morning, and anyone that tells me how peaceful the sunrise is, is a liar! It didn’t make the walk any nicer, or shorter.

The following day we headed to a town a bit southeast of us, called Haisyn (or Gaisyn if you prefer Russian), to keep another male volunteer company as his wife hosted a girls’ night/Mary Kay party/ baking party. We, or at least I, had a good time, with good people. The ride to town was through more of the Ukrainian countryside which is now full of storks. These birds are phenomenally large, and must scare the hell out of the babies they are delivering, unless the babies are asleep. The image on my grandparents’ Ensign (sailboat) of the stork and baby did not do justice to the size of these things . . . I was shocked. I’ll include a picture of one of the storks I have seen here, but I don’t know that it will do justice.

In terms of the passport, as I mentioned above, it was terrifying being without it. Ukrainian police, have the ability to ask any one for their documents at any time. Furthermore, they have the authority to detain anybody for 72 hours without charges. (I don’t mean this as a criticism, simply by means of explaining my apprehension.) The reason for this is in an attempt to curb the amount of undocumented workers in Ukraine, and it is a legitimate police mission. But, being without the passport I just saw myself getting stopped in Kyiv, stumbling over my clumsy Ukrainian and starting an international incident of sorts. I was not relieved when, after calling the bank we had been to, and the restaurant we had eaten at there was still not sign of my passport. So, throwing caution to the wind, I decided to go to Kyiv to watch the USA – England game last weekend. As soon as I got to Kyiv, and went to the Peace Corps office, the guard told me they had my passport . . . and they did; Turkmenistan visa, and all. Really, the Turkmenistan visa was my biggest cause of concern, I kind of like having it. It is pretty cool, and a good conversation starter.

Kyiv was unbearably hot last weekend. I took a cool shower at the office, and by the time I was upstairs again I was unsure of whether I was damp from the shower, or the sweat. I did not have much to do, so I decided to spend the day watching World Cup games at an Irish pub. I had fried calamari rings, a beer or two, and an Irish coffee here. It was incredible, like a taste of being home (with the calamari) and a reminder of the trip to the Jameson Distillery with my brother, and my dad (with the Irish coffee). The only issue is that those two items alone cost what I am paid for two days. I saw Korea win 2 – 0 over Greece, and Argentina give a disappointing 1 – 0 victory over Nigeria. I will say here, that prior to Thursday night I had been completely underwhelmed by this World Cup. The goals per game average was at a mediocre 1.6 or so. But, Switzerland has beat Spain, Serbia beat Germany, and the matches became a littler more exciting. As a soccer fan, I appreciate games that are tight defensive affairs, but sloppy soccer, and no goals is no fun for anyone, even a soccer fan. However, we are getting into the nitty-gritty and these games are going to start getting fun (case in point the US – Slovenia game last night, and even the scoreless England – Algeria game was great to watch).

After the first two games, I decided to head back to the Peace Corps office for a bit. I took advantage of the internet to buy my tickets to Georgia (I’m really excited about this, the Caucasus was where I initially wanted to go, other than Central Asia). On my way out for the next game I met up with two other volunteers who had just seen a ballet. We went to the other Irish pub in Kyiv to watch the game. This was phenomenal it was full of expat Americans and Limey Brits (I know, I know, Englishman). We were a few minutes late, but came in just in time for that ridiculous goal by Gerrard. I was in so much shock I couldn’t even ask the waitress for a table. I was just staring at the television like a child who has just seen that the Mickey Mouse at DisneyWorld is only an actor. You would have thought my dog, if I had a dog, had died. Ultimately, one of my less distraught companions was able to acquire a table in the front corner of the basement, right in front of a huge TV. When Clint Dempsey scored perhaps the funniest goal I’ve ever seen, there was an aura of disbelief in the entire pub. The Americans almost immediately started celebrating the equalizer, though. To say we were happy with the draw would be a lie, but we weren’t too upset.

This brings us to the beginning of the week that just passed. I spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at school. We were helping the 9^th grade students prepare for their state examination. When I say preparing them, they were indoctrinating them. The teacher basically wanted me to write 6 sentences about the topics, and the students to memorize exactly what I wrote. It is something I know I should take a stand on, but I can’t bring myself to start this conflict right before summer vacation. There are only so many walls you can beat your head against before you get a concussion. Picking my battles has been a tough decision. Luckily, after these sessions I have been able to use the sedative effects of international soccer, and watch the games. Getting caught up in the games is enough to keep my mind off the systemic things I am not happy about.

Wednesday, however, was pretty irredeemable. I went school for the exam, corrected all of the exams as the other teachers just sat around doing nothing, and then was told after that they needed me to go home to get a book and bring it back to school that day. On my way home I stopped by the market to pick up something for lunch. I wanted some pre-sliced salami. It was in the cooler, and I grabbed it. When I brought the package to the check-out girl she had trouble scanning it. So, she looked at the package, and clearly saw the price. Did she say: “It costs 10.99 UAH.”? No, she said, you cannot buy this. All the red Irish ire rushed to my face and I said a bunch of really angry bad English words, but luckily, I’m improving my self control and was able to say them under my breath. But, this really killed the rest of my day. I was so angry, and in fact even writing about it now it still infuriates me. It was the type of day in which I wanted to punch ever single person I saw between the market, and my apartment. However, punching host-country nationals out of frustration does not fulfill any of the three parts of the Peace Corps mission, so I refrained. After the annoying day, my friends in town took me out to pick mushrooms. This was really the saving grace of the day. The country here, as I have said again and again, I know, is just absolutely beautiful. And, even though the only mushrooms I located were poisonous and would have killed us, it was still a nice break from the every day.

But, I also mentioned I was able to make myself the most Un-Ukrainian looking person ever at a local bar. I should preface with the fact that my Ukrainian friends have told me that I will never look like a Ukrainian. An American, they say, is obvious from the hope and confidence gleaming for their eyes. This may be an accurate description. But last night after spending time with my friends I returned to the pub where I watched the US – Slovenia game. I had ordered a couple of beers while watching the US game, because I don’t want people to start questioning my manhood, but they of course knew I was American when I started cheering loudly for the US goals, especially the equalizer. I, of course, apologized for my boisterous behavior, but they seemed to enjoy the spectacle, they being the bar staff, as I was the only person in the pub. I wanted to watch the England – Slovenia game, as well. So, when I went back at sat at the bar. First thing I did is take the book I’m reading out of my back pocket. Anywhere I go this is met with amusement, but it was almost shocking here. After settling in the barman came over, and said “Zibert nul pyat?” (Zibert (type of beer) half liter?” to which I responded with a no, thanks, but I’ll have a Fanta orange soda. Now, I don’t know if any man over the age of 12 has ever ordered an orange soda at this bar, but the people next to me started staring at me. Further they were shocked that I was at the bar, and not smoking cigarettes. They ultimately must have found me relatively harmless because they started talking, and figuring I was an English speaker decided to practice their English, which was nice for me. But they made some comments about my lack of beer for the second game. So, when I got up to leave, and they said “come on, one beer,” I decided to oblige. The conversation then came around to the usual topics. Do you know our language? To which I always ask which language they mean by theirs, and then tell them I don’t know Russian, but I know a little Ukrainian. Do you know our history? Sure, I do. Name the hetmans (Cossack leaders). So I go through the litany of the names on my money. What about our girls? They are very pretty, I respond. Do you have a wife? No, I’m far too young for that, I say. Do you want one? Not yet, my answer. Okay, you be careful, then, many girls here want to go the America (I had already figured this one out, though). It frequently ends with why is America so powerful, and why isn’t Ukraine. This is always the most difficult question, because I have to be diplomatic in the answer. The disdain and disgust with communism isn’t s common here. I have to try to say what I mean without saying how the Ukrainian country has been raped by Russia, or Soviet Russia for the past three hundred years, and is just now becoming an independent state. Part of the problem, is that frequently, the opinion is that the Soviet partnership was beneficial, even though I think it clearly was not. It usually ends with me expressing my hope for the future of this country as young people become the leaders. And especially with me imploring the people I am talking with to hold their leaders accountable. Not trusting government and doing nothing to improve it leaves you in the same position, I tell them. And I mention how distrustful (for better or worse) we are of government in the US, and tell them that is how to improve.

But, then again, I’m only a barstool politician. So, I’ll leave this argument to the pundits. That’s all I’ve got for now though. Coming soon, an update of my full Ukrainian tour with OPB, Gen with a G, and my lovely sister. . .

Be good and be well,

Pete