A Number of Bullet Points

Dear readers:

From your humble narrator, the following are a number of bullet points about things I think, do and see while here in Ukraine.  They are in no particular order, and this is really just being used to fill some space, and buy me some time to put down something cogent about my trip to Egypt, and what I’ve been doing the past few weeks.  I’m even considering writing about a few things I had planned on writing about earlier, namely my trip to the Banya in town, and my trip to the Khmelnytsky Bazaar and the Medzhybizh Castle.  I plan on doing at least one of those before the end of this week, but we all know about the best laid plans of mice and men . . . But, I digress.  Some things which may never make their way into a post:

• This winter isn’t as bad as last winter.  But, I hate winter, for me this is like saying my sprained ankle isn’t as bad as a broken ankle.
• I really enjoy eggplant, and I have eaten a lot more eggplant in the last year than in the rest of my life combined.
• The lady at the post office has started letting me cut the line.  And, she smiles when she sees me, and is helpful!
• I don’t understand why postcards are more expensive to mail than Christmas cards.  It really boggles my mind, I cannot comprehend it.
• I love natural coffee.  I’m drinking Dunkin Donuts coffee right now.  I owe a debt of such immense gratitude to the people who have sent real coffee to me.  I’m excited for the time in my life when I can go to a coffee shop and get a cup of tasty coffee for $3.00.
• I’ve never drank as much tea as I’ve been drinking this past 14 months.
• I’m shocked when I hear of people not in my immediate family that read or have read my blog.  Thanks for reading, hopefully it’s worth and will continue to be worth your time.
• iTunes podcasts are incredible.  I get some phenomenal information from podcasts, and they have really been key in keeping me up to date with current events, both news and opinion.
• I’ve started using the word phenomenal far too much.  If you have any other words that will do its job appropriately, I’d love to heard them.
• I hate when I reread a post and notice a grammatical error.  I hate even more when I have used the wrong there/their/they’re.
• I hate when my feat are cold.  Right now my feet are cold.
• Whenever someone mentions going to the bazaar, the 90s song "How Bizarre" goes into my head, at least the chorus does.  I'll always defend 90s music, to the chagrin of some of my friends here.
• Sometimes I take showers just to keep warm.
• I may have the best shower in Peace Corps Ukraine.
• My shower head hangs over the bathroom, and there is a drain in the floor, so when I take a shower my bathroom is pretty difficult to use for a couple of hours.  This has caused me to make more informed decisions about my showering time.
• Continuing with the shower:  I have learned not to shower when it’s cooking time in my apartment building.  There isn’t enough gas to go around and the water never gets cold.
• My parents just sent me a winter hat, and I forgot how awesome it is to have warm head.  Prior I was just wearing sweet earmuffs.
• I read a good amount here, but I frequently take much longer to read a book than I want to.
• Half the reason I read books is so people will think I’m more intelligent than I really am.  That’s also the reason I put a list of books I’ve read on my blog.  But, if you want to tell me how learned I am you can feel free.
• I have fallen in love with the Republic of Georgia.  It has the best food ever, and its wine is pretty good, too.  I try to go to Georgian restaurants whenever I can.  I would go back there in a minute.  I read an article in Foreign Policy magazine and it called this “Georgia Syndrome.”
• I have a camera but I often don’t take it with me, or take it out.  I don’t know why, but I don’t really like taking pictures.
• I’ve gone mushroom picking a few times, and all the mushrooms I’ve picked have been poisonous . . . lame!
• I overuse the ellipsis.
• Ukraine has tasty chocolate.  My favourite is Milka.
• I just typed favorite with a u.  I didn’t change it because I feel I should be mocked for this.
• The Lead Specialist for TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) observed a lesson of mine last week, and told me she likes that I speak an almost British version of English.  I was really unhappy with that statement.
• I don’t think Keno Davis should be fired (yet), but I think he needs to learn how to call a timeout.  I’m really not thrilled with his coaching performance yesterday against Seton Hall.  If your team has been down by 16 – 19 for most of the end of the first half, and most of the second half, your team shouldn’t have 4 timeouts left with 4 minutes to go.
• On weekends if I don’t have anything going on I have to make an effort to leave my apartment.  Because of this, I don’t usually keep food in my apartment.  I feel really useless when I haven’t left the apartment all day.
• I still don’t like cats, especially my sitemate’s cats.
• I think dogs are awesome, even if my brother still thinks I’m afraid of dogs.
• I don’t think the US should support dictators (Mubarak in Egypt).
• When I drink I like to talk about politics.
• I’m really impressed with people who can speak foreign languages fluently, or close to fluently.
• I don’t like to cook.
• I usually cook pasta and eggs. 
• I sometimes go days without drinking water.  I think it’s because I’m cheap.
• I am afraid I am going to go home and be supercheap.  I really don’t want to be supercheap; that’s no fun for anybody.
• I’m happy that the Red Sea tourist resorts have been calm during the current unrest in Egypt.
• Getting a haircut here scares me.  I am always afraid I’m going to wind up with a mullet.
• I heard the ProBowl was yesterday.  Does anybody care about that?
• Many things in my life, and many trips I have taken revolve around American comfort/fast food.  With the exception of my fourteen hour layover in London, I have eaten fast food in every country I have visited since coming to Ukraine.  I also once took a train 4 hours just to go to TGI Friday’s.  It was delicious.
• America is severely lacking in kebab and shwarma stands. 
• Holubtsi, rice and ground pork in a tomato sauce wrapped by cabbage is delicious.
• My potato peeling skills are truly unremarkable. 
• If it’s cold enough, I will wear a scarf.  That is something I never thought I’d say.
• I still find males using scarves as indoor accessories unacceptable.
• Winter is much colder when you have to walk everywhere.
• Delivery pizza is something I miss.
• I like girls that wear Abercrombie & Fitch
• It upsets me that the lead singer of LFO is now dead.  More than that, I am upset by how he died.
• Agent Johnny Utah always gets his man.
• Sometimes entire days slip away from me, and I have no idea where they have gone.
• The English language has waaaaaay to many verb tenses.
• Saying “I don’t understand,” is an awesome way to get out of situations I don’t want to be in, and out of conversations I am done with.
• I like trains.
• Trains would be better if people were not allowed to eat salted fish on them.  However, I am frequently amazed by the type of meals people bring for the train rides.
• Coca-Cola tastes much better with sugar, not high fructose corn syrup.
• Recently there was a mouse in my apartment, and now when I see a shift in light, or something catches the corner of my eye, my first thought is that it could be a/the mouse.
• Ukrainian and Russian do not have articles.  I’m glad English has articles.  It makes it much easier to identify nouns, I think.
• Julian Assange should be punished severely.
• There is a Russian version of facebook called vkontakte.  I don’t have an account yet, but I want to get one.
• Peanuts are my powersnack.
• I enjoy making up words, both in Ukrainian and in English.
• Would Pete Meegan be cooler if he were Don Draper?  I think yes.
• Krakow is my favourite European city (I didn’t spell favorite like that on purpose).  Lviv is my favorite Ukrainian city.  Newport is my favorite American city. 

That’s a bit for you, for now.  Let me know if anything needs clarification, though I imagine this is all pretty straightforward.  I’ll put a proper entry up in the near future.

Be good,

Pete

Christmas Weekend December 24 - 28, 2010

Dear Friends:

I have a post about my Christmas activities, and whereabouts.  I do not want to enter it here, because it has some information I wish to control dissemination of.  If you would like to read it, please email me at peter.meegan at gmail.com



Pete

Roll On Rhode Island

Dear Friends, especially Rhode Islanders:

Please take a few minutes to read the inauguration address of our new governor, Lincoln Chafee.  I, personally, am very proud of the history of our state, and the ideals for which it stands.  "Rouge's Island," has never been a pejorative term in my opinion.  It is indicative of the independent spirit that is symbolized on top of our state house in the "Independent Man" statue.  The reading of this speech brought the Rhode Island pride oozing out of my pores, which was much needed after our Friars' disappointing loss on Tuesday night.  I enjoy the concept of getting back to the principles espoused by our founder, Roger Williams.  If I could take just one line from the speech I would take this:  "Because good business is about treating people right, just as good government is."  


The full text as given to the Associated Press, and appearing on the website of the Boston Globe is as follows:

Text of RI Gov. Lincoln Chafee's inaugural address

With deep humility, aware of the adversity we face but confident that, together, we will meet the challenge of our times, I am honored to stand before you as our state's 58th Governor.

I ask you to join with me in thanking Governor Carcieri for his service to Rhode Island over the past eight years.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once said that there are no second acts in America. Fortunately, he was not a political sage.

I believe a second chance begins at this very moment, not just for me, but for our wonderful state of Rhode Island and for each and every one of her citizens. Today, I humbly ask each Rhode Islander to join me in embarking on a new era of opportunity for Rhode Island.

I pledge to devote every ounce of energy I have to this task. Indeed, I will not rest until we reclaim the promise that lay in the heart of our founder Roger Williams some 375 years ago.

This magnificent building behind me is replete with symbols of that promise, from the great charter of 1663 that gave a king's blessing to our "lively experiment," to the flags that Rhode Islanders carried into battle against another king, in defense of our basic rights.

We were the first colony to stand up to the crown by signing the Declaration of Independence. And we were the last to ratify the Constitution as we prudently waited to be persuaded that America's standard of freedom was as high as our own.

Today, I ask all Rhode Islanders to join me in boldly reaffirming Roger Williams' vision of a "civil state," a vibrant, diverse community that is free of political, cultural and ethnic division. For if we rekindle the vision that created our heritage, there is nothing this state and her people cannot achieve.

Last November, we showed the nation what a civil state can mean. Angel Tavares was elected mayor of Providence. David Cicilline was elected to Congress, and Jim Langevin was re-elected. Each of these men have been bold pioneers in their own way, and are testimony to the open minds and hearts of Rhode Islanders.

Thank you for this vote of confidence; and most importantly thank you for your vote to embrace tolerance and individual freedom.

Our independence is written onto every page of Rhode Island history. When Roger Williams came to these beautiful shores in 1636, he instantly made this the most democratic place in America, simply by welcoming other dissenters, and by creating a new form of government that valued tolerance and consensus over orthodoxy and compulsion.

More than any settler of his time, he drew inspiration from the native peoples he found here, the original Rhode Islander, whom he admired for their self-government, their sense of justice, and their commitment to care for all members of their community.

A century earlier, the Italian explorer Verrazano had called attention to this place and its inhabitants, calling them "the most beautiful ... that have found on this voyage." He named this region "Refugio," an uncanny presaging of Rhode Island's destiny to become a refuge for those who think for themselves.

And over Roger Williams' long life, he set a lasting precedent for mutual respect, the very foundation of any civil society.

In his words, Rhode Island was like a ship of state, with many different types of passengers, free to worship and think as they pleased, but obligated to work to defend the ship from danger, and to follow a correct course to the right destination.

Today, I ask all Rhode Islanders, are we willing to re-embrace these principles as our guide in this second decade of the 21st century? I urge your answer to be a resounding "yes!" as we continue in an economy that forces many Rhode Islanders to face extraordinary adversity every day.

More than most states, we have known hard times these past few years. We have suffered for reasons that are all too familiar to all of us.

Let me be very clear. Our present condition has not developed overnight. It has been decades in the making and it is the shared legacy of Democrats and Republicans, business and labor, liberals and conservatives. Finger pointing and blame will do nothing to alleviate our situation.

In every segment of our society, we have tolerated something that Roger Williams did not -- a refusal to do the work necessary to correct our course, and an acceptance of a fractious society that emphasizes division over common purpose.

In short, our politics have not lived up to our ideals. That must change. The time of irresponsibility has ended.

Let us begin an era of political collaboration, of cultural and ethnic acceptance, of shared sacrifice and, most importantly, of faith and trust in each other. If we do, Rhode Island will most certainly prosper once more.

And so I say today to every Rhode Islander, the only way we can move forward is to move forward together.

Tomorrow I will rescind the so-called E-verify executive order. However well intentioned it may have been, it has caused needless anxiety within our Latino community without demonstrating any progress on illegal immigration, an issue I strongly believe must be solved at the federal level.

And I would hope that Rhode Island will catch up to her New England neighbors and pass a bill to establish marriage equality. I urge our General Assembly to quickly consider and adopt this legislation. When marriage equality is the law in Rhode Island, we honor our forefathers who risked their lives and fortune in the pursuit of human equality.

Rhode Island today must be as welcoming to all as Roger Williams intended it to be. Mark my words, these two actions will do more for economic growth in our state that any economic development loan.

Because good business is about treating people right, just as good government is.

Each part of our agenda is important unto itself. But our ultimate goal is to reclaim the vision of our founder. It is written in marble behind me: "To hold forth a lively experiment ... that a most flourishing civil state may stand."

Rhode Island has often led in reaching out to America's future, as defined by a sense of personal rights, or the economic opportunity represented by the new technology that fueled the Industrial Revolution. Today, we can lead again, reminding America what a civil state means:

-- A civil state means that personal freedoms are protected, different orientations are respected, and the dignity of all citizens is enshrined in both the law and in everyday practice.

-- A civil state means a fair safety net to provide for basic human needs, swift and fair judicial proceedings, humane prisons, well-run police and fire departments, good roads and bridges, and customer service versus customer suffering at our state agencies and departments.

-- A civil state means clean parks and athletic facilities, clean water and air, and proper stewardship of our amazing natural resources.

-- A civil state means a public education system that challenges our students in the right way -- with inspiring teachers, clean and safe classrooms, up-to-date textbooks, and the chance to lead better lives than their parents did. The Rhode Island we all want starts there, in those classrooms, and while we all want improvement in education, we must not dismiss what has worked as we strive for progress.

-- A civil state gives each able citizen an opportunity to work, build a career or launch a business. We must get Rhode Island working again and together we will.

-- And, a civil state means that responsibility flows in both directions. As citizens, Rhode Islanders deserve honest, reliable government -- but as users of services taxpayers must give government the resources to do its job well.

Some may think these are unattainable goals, but I say again that a spirit of collaboration for the greater good, fueled by confidence in our abilities, will mean there is nothing we cannot achieve.

We know who we are and the great tradition that has shaped us, the leap of faith that drove the settlers who came from around the world in search of a better life. They were people who were willing to take on any job to build a decent life for their families. All of their stories live on inside us. And the power of their example must sustain us for the task ahead.

Our state may be small, but our ambitions have never been. Our challenges are great, and our obstacles are many, but I promise you today that our great state will lead again.

Rhode Island's best days are still ahead of us. Let us today begin that journey to a better future. Let's get this right. Because even if Fitzgerald was wrong about second chances, he was right that we only get one chance to live the life we are given. Our time here is so short. And Rhode Island is so extraordinary.

The founders of this lively experiment believed so much in optimism and human potential that they gave the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations a very short motto: hope.

But mindful of the Book of Hebrews, they also connected this hope to the more grounded symbol of the anchor, reflecting an essential strength and realism that has always guided us, even as our ship of state has sailed for daring new horizons.

I might imagine Roger Williams reading his bible as he conceived his lively experiment and coming across this passage from the Book of Hebrews: "we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to seize the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul."

With inspiration from our past, and confidence in our future, let us all walk together, with sure and steadfast steps, toward the promise of tomorrow.

Thank you.

As, I assume, is the case with the rest of Rhode Islanders, I am not happy with the current position of our state.  We are not where we should be, and worse than that we are lagging behind our neighbors in New England.  It's time to right the ship.  Hopefully, our newly elected officials will help us to do that.

HOPE,

Pete

My Thanksgiving (and Saturday, too)

It is rare that I write these posts prior to typing and posting them.  Presently (at the time of writing, not typing), I am on an elektrichka (an uncomfortable commuter train) making my way home from Kyiv.  It's about 4:15 PM and it is already mostly dark.  There is nothing I'd like to do right now but sleep, but I've lost my talent for sleeping on bumpy, abrupt rides; woe is me.

You may ask about my motivations for a day trip to Kyiv.  Quite simply, I wanted to go to T.G.I. Friday's.  Not only did I want to, I did go!  I had a Jack Daniel's Burger.  This was a large meat patty topped with cheese and bacon.  Lettuce sat underneath the burger, and there was a bit of Jack Daniel's barbeque sauce served on the side.  To say this was delicious would be an understatement.  This phenomenal burger was served with all the western decadence the T.G.I. Friday's brand name implies.  For such a large burger, I must have finished it in record time.  Not only did I finish the burger, I did everything short of lick the plate to capitalize on all that delicious sauce.  After such a meal, I may not be able to eat for the next couple of days . . . a Toby Keith song comes to mind; it's unfortunate, but I'm not as good as I once was.

It is Saturday today, and I'm pretty sure I will post this tonight, but I"m not positive.  While at Friday's I was shamed by the cover story of Kyiv Post, the English-language newspaper of Kyiv.  My burger cost 91 UAH.  Converted that sum is equal to about $11.50.  I will post a link to the cover story here:  "Living on 30 Hryvnias [Ukrainian currency] A Day."  The article discussed the Ukrainian national minimum wage which is currently 907 UAH.  Five people were chosen as volunteers to try to live for one month on the minimum wage.  It was almost impossible for them.  Only 1 out of the 5 volunteers completed the challenge.  Today I spent 4 times that 30 hryvnias per day amount on one meal, and transport to and from Kyiv.  While I am fully sated, this article has been a bit of a buzzkill.  Needless to say this isn't my proudest hour as a volunteer.  But, I'll just say it was a Thanksgiving present to myself.  For the record, it was 8 hours round trip for the T.G.I. Friday's trip, and I had no other business in Kyiv.

*                    *                    *

In terms of Thanksgiving, I hope yours was wonderful.  Thanksgiving is a much different holiday when far from home.  A lot of the joy is taken, but the importance of the day is by no means cheapened.  Some things for which to give thanks have become even more apparent to me.  I hope I am home for next Thanksgiving, but it was intriguing to celebrate the holiday away from home.

On Monday in English club we read, translated and sang “Over the River and Through the Woods.”  We made hand-turkeys, fattening them up by naming Thanksgiving foods.  As no turkey would be complete without the stuffing, we stuffed the turkeys with things that we are thankful for.  This was followed by a pretty basic rendition of the story of the first Thanksgiving.  One of the things I was/am thankful for was/is my friend Yana for translating the story for me so I wouldn’t have to bumble through my broken Ukrainian.

Tuesday and Wednesday passed by pretty unremarkably, especially Tuesday, when I stayed up to follow the score of the PC – LaSalle game online.  I knew this would be a rebuilding year, but I didn’t expect Providence would be a scheduling, let alone losing to, a high school team (sorry A-10 fans, you know I can’t help these jabs).

That brings us to the day.  Thursday started off a bit rough.  While having my morning coffee I felt a sting of loneliness.  My heart and mind were both somewhere around the northern suburbs of Chicago.  This is the one holiday we generally spend with my dad’s side of the family.  Because I don’t get to see that side often, I really value the time we spend together.  But, around my final sip, I realized these were feelings and I stuffed them deep, deep down where they belong.

Peace Corps had granted us an unexpected holiday, but I elected not to use it, and went to school anyway.  I spent most of the day singing “Over the River and Through the Woods.”  The fourth formers were disappointed it wasn’t the “Hokey Pokey,” but they humored me and sang along; though I assume their thoughts weren’t on Grand Beach and football (of the American variety).

After school, it was time to start the celebration in earnest.  My site mate and I met to decide how to go about our Thanksgiving party.  The party was with our English club, and we actually had one of our best turn outs – 15 people.  During our meeting we decided on turkey (turkey breast, not a full turkey), gravy, mashed potatoes, and krabovyni salat (which is a salad with crab sticks, corn, cucumbers, potatoes, hard-boiled eggs, and of course the ubiquitous mayonaisse).  All of these things were homemade, as Mr. Quigley once said, “no instant mashed potatoes in the Meegan household.”  I must say, I have a lot more appreciation for the Thanksgiving meals I enjoyed when I was younger after having to prepare this small-scale affair.  The shopping took over an hour, which left us with about 3 hours to make the food.  Unfortunately, my site mate had meetings all afternoon, so the preparations, and cooking fell largely on me.

I’ll admit that I probably did not have the turkey cooked enough.  There was still a bit of pink inside, but it was tasty.  I have no experience seasoning meat, or cooking anything other than eggs, pasta, potatoes, and onions, so I was pretty proud of the result (when I say it was undercooked, it wasn’t raw, it was in the oven for almost three hours, it just wasn’t dried out enough, nobody got sick, that I know of).  In terms of seasoning, we used some mixed herbs, salt, black pepper, and paprika generously smeared over the buttered-up turkey skin.  I really enjoyed it, and, afterwards was actually gnawing on the turkey bone getting the last scraps, though I probably should not publicly admit this.

We failed to procure any apple cider, and that was a bit disappointing, hopefully I can find a way to make some in the near future.  But, we did have delicious fruit juices, none of which were homemade.  When we got to English club, some of our members had brought food, as well.  There was another batch of krabovyni salat, some chicken wings (very tasty), and a number of desserts.  My site mate gave a short presentation on Thanksgiving (though, this New Englander, and Roman Catholic would argue some of her historical facts), and we ate.

Following English club, an American friend came to visit.  We picked up some chips, and some beer, and came to my apartment.  We chose not to stop by a café because the Patriots and the Lions were playing.  Now, I was once a Barry Sanders fan, but that was because I liked Barry Sanders not the team he played for, and I think this was the first time I ever met a real live Lions fan.  I thought they no longer existed.  We turned the game on in the second quarter (streaming online) with Detroit leading.  During the game, I learned that I am thankful for Alphonso Smith.  I wish more teams had cornerbacks like that for Patriots to run around.  In Smith’s defense he did take responsibility for how poorly he played:  I just want to apologize to my teammates because they played so hard.  I feel as if I was the catalyst for this loss.  I also want to apologize to the this organization and the fans."  I’m not sure apologies are going to help Detroit very much, though.


After the game, I was able to talk to my family on Skype.  Usually, when I say my family it means my parents, or perhaps my brother or sister.  This time I got the whole bag:  aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, siblings, cousins' children.  It was a lot of fun.  A half hour on Skype, and it was one of the best half hours I have had since being in Ukraine.  Hearing from friends and family, especially those I haven't talked to in some time exponentially improves my mood.  So, if any in the Thanksgiving crowd read this, thank you for taking a few minutes to talk with the prodigal son, and humoring his self-imposed exile.

But, that's about all I know for now.  A reminder to my stateside friends:  don't forget to watch The November Christmas tonight at 9 on CBS.  This year's Hallmark Hall of Fame Presentation is based on a short story written by my uncle, Greg Coppa, and it is sure to be terrific.  If the film presentation is half as good as the short story you won't be disappointed.

Be good, and remember only 27 shopping days left until Christmas!

Pete

Happy Thanksgiving

*Disclaimer*  Please forgive my lack of eloquence.  I haven't slept too well that last few days.

To my dear friends:

I spend a lot of time bitching.  It’s just habit.  I see things I don’t like, and I state the fact.  Subtlety has not really ever been much of my thing.  But, tonight, on the eve of Thanksgiving it is time I come to terms with the fact that I rarely state how lucky I am.

As you all know, I’ve spent the last 13 months in Ukraine.  Ukraine is a European country, no doubt, but it also a country in rough shape.  I generally call it a country of extremes.  By simple accidents of chance and birth I was not born in Ukraine.  I was born in the greatest country on God’s green Earth:  the United States of America.  For that reason, I am slightly homesick on this, of all nights; but also, I am ready to put into words some of the things I’m thankful for.  Some of the things I write are unique to me.  Some of the things I write are common to almost all Americans.

I am thankful for health and youth.  These are, of course, fleeting.  I’m currently reading The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and he makes a point of expressing just how fleeting they are.  But, while they are here I shall enjoy them.

I am thankful for my friends and family.  I’m sitting in my apartment looking at a number of things that have been sent from home, or hand delivered.  Books, coffee, snacks, clothes, and the list continues.  I have already been visited by two friends, and by my parents and my sister.  Truly incredible when you think of the cost and time it takes to travel this far around the world.  Being halfway around the world has really put into perspective just how lucky I am.  I am going to be in mourning tomorrow thinking of the family gathered together, I assume in Arlington Heights as usual.  Hopefully I will get to speak with some.  I’m often told that in Ukraine family is much more important than it is to we Americans.  I think that anyone who says this should look at my family.  Either side would challenge that statement to the core.  Thought, I suppose, one example hardly makes a case.

I also realize how much I rely on my friends.  Sitting at home on Friday and Saturday nights I recall, sometimes hazily nights in Newport.  Going to wacky wings Wednesday at the Oak Hill Tavern.  Stomping around Providence, Providence College and the surrounding areas.  I think of all the people that have made the past 10 years of my life incredible.  I am humbled by the actions of those close to me, and feel forever indebted;  “Debts that no honest man could pay,” as Bruce once said in a song I’ve played on repeat a few times.

I’m thankful for the opportunities I’ve been given.  I have been given an opportunity to travel the world.  I have been given the opportunity for a wonderful college education.  In short, most of the things on my plate have been put there with very little doing on my part.  For many of these things I deserve as much credit as the guy in the buffet line scooping up the last of the chicken fingers.

On down the line, I’m thankful for America, and all the opportunities we’ve been given as Americans.  Times may be tough now, but like every tough time before we will prevail, and be better for it.  I’m thankful that I’m 12 months from Dave’s Market.  I’m 12 months from my next visit to Updike’s Newtowne.  12 months until I go to my next PC basketball game.  I’m thankful I have a place to call home, and look forward to as much as I am looking forward to my glorious return.  It is a wonderful perspective I’ve been given, living abroad for the past year.  Living abroad, especially in a less than affluent place can show how grateful we should be.  We have received a gift.  Let’s acknowledge how great it is, and stop and reflect on life long enough to remember that it’s pretty damn good for most of us.

Now, I don’t know much about a lot of things, but these are a few facts I know without any doubt.  While I am deeply envious of all of you celebrating back home, I’m glad you will be.  I’ll join the celebrations as soon as I can.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Pete

The Beginning of the School Year

So, I was at school the other day looking out the window.  I saw the other building of my school and its corrugated roof, and remembered that while the novelty has worn off for me, this is still new and different to anyone who may be reading, and as such I should try to document it.  It is sometimes difficult to try to document without feeling as if I’m invading the privacy of my community, or acting a bit too much like a voyeur, but, as they say in Zhmerynka: “Whammy!”

Much has occurred since last I wrote.  The last things I wrote were about a trip in early August which was two and a half months ago.  Since then I have spent some time at a summer camp, celebrated Ukrainian Independence Day in Lviv, received a personal tour of a village close to mine, and the list goes on.  So, what to talk about is a considerable challenge.  Also, I’ve been home since I wrote last, spent a night in London, and a weekend in Kharkiv, the former capital of Soviet Ukraine. . . so,  I’m not sure exactly what is of interest here.  I’ll save the trip home for a different day, so I guess I’ll start from the beginning of school.

I think I’ll give you a quick crash course, and try to refocus my attentions on keeping this relatively updated.  The beginning of school:  The “Day of Knowledge” is the holiday that marks the first day of school on September 1^st, every year.  This is also called the “First Bell” ceremony.  The First Bell is a shorter day than normal.  It starts with the school assembling outside for a number of speeches, followed by the introduction of the new first graders.  The ceremony ends with a first grader being carried on the shoulders of an eleventh or tenth (whichever class is the oldest at the school) grader.  The first grader rings a ceremonial bell and this is, indeed, the “First Bell.”  Following the ringing of the first bell the young first graders are led to their classrooms by the members of the oldest class, and the first lesson of the year occurs.  The first lesson of the year is about the history and culture of Ukraine, specifically independent Ukraine.  There is a party for teachers after the students go home, complete with cognac and wine, dancing and singing, and usually salted fish.  I skipped out on the party this year, as I’m not a big fan of imbibing at school, but that’s just me.

The school year begins in earnest the day following the Day of Knowledge.  This is the first day of classes in the majority of subjects.  This period is a difficult period.  The reason is that no set schedule has been made.  It was not until the end of September that a real schedule had been created, a real schedule that would be as set in stone as things are here.  I still haven’t found out the reason for such a delay in creating a schedule, then again, maybe it’s something man wasn’t meant to know.

The days at the end of September and the beginning of October were, and are, some of the coldest days for me.  They are the days when fall is reaching her cold, clammy, gray hands on the country, and the body has not yet had time to adjust to the falling temperatures.  This is exacerbated by the fact that heat is, for the most part, central, and does not come on until someone actively turns it on.  This did not happen for me until October 15, when I had left site for awhile.  It did, however, mean that I was wearing long underwear at the end of September.  Luckily heat is now on throughout so I will not need long underwear for another few weeks, if the weather cooperates.

I think this will be a really brief post; we’ll call it a practice swing, a bit of a sound check, if you will.

The only other thing to report from this time is that I have moved again.  This is the fourth place I’ve lived in Zhmerynka, and the third apartment.  I did get it all set up with internet, though, so it’s in pretty good shape.  I even have a refrigerator and a shower!  The hot water in my shower here is better (at least temperature-wise) than the water back home, and there’s more of it!  If you want to hear the story about how and why I moved, email me.  It’s pretty funny, but I’d rather not post it here.  If you’ve spoken with my dad recently there is a good chance you would have heard it.

I think I’ll sign off there.  Next up: a trip to a bazaar and a castle.  Maybe I’ll write that today, maybe not.  Coming soon:  my trip home.

That’s all I know for now.  Be good,

Pete

Keeps Georgia on My Mind: 1 Week in Georgia (Republic of) Part II

View of the confluence of the rivers, and Mtskheta from the high church.

The church on top of the mountain, in Mtskheta. This was my favorite of the three.

The second, and least impressive, church in Mtskheta

Third church in Mtskheta

The third, and grandest, church in Mtskheta.

President George W. Bush Street: AWESOME!

Walking through Signaghi.

The wall encompassing Signaghi. Wine country.

At the cafe in Signaghi, probably about to provide a witty retort, or make a comment that identifies a deep understanding of the intricacies of our current topic of discussion (just speculating).

These ladies are preparing to send the wine to Ukraine. I'm hoping I come in contact with the fruits of their labor.

Preparing for our wine tasting.

At the table for our feast. The man standing gave the tour of the wine factory, and was our toastmaster.

Stalin Museum in Gori.

Statue of Stalin outside of his museum in Gori. The museum forgets to mention that Stalin was, to use the scientific term, an asshole.

Prayer rags outside of hilltop church in Borjomi (it was a tough climb).

Hiking in Borjomi Natural Park.

Me trying to be artsy with a Tbilisi by night picture. The golden glow is a church, and the white glow is the Avlabari Palace.

Peace Bridge at night. This is a pedestrian bridge crossing the river, it looks pretty cool in person.

Illegal picture of the Avlabari Palace in Tbilisi.

*For more photos, I have posted a plethora on facebook. Follow this link http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2104638&id=17600435&l=39f419e4b2 if you are interested in the remainder. You do not need to have a facebook account to view these photos.*

Welcome back. I hope you’re energized for a bit more rambling, and the last few days of the trip. Away we go:

As I mentioned, the ride back from the mountains was pretty painless. We arrived in Tbilisi around 1:00 PM, negotiated the metro system and made our way to our new hostel. The new hostel was not the Tbilisi Party Hostel; it was a quieter, low key place called Irina’s Guesthouse. We dropped our bags off and decided to make our plan of attack for the rest of the afternoon. We decided to head up to a town called Mtskheta, a quick trip.

Mtskheta has been a spiritual center in Georgia for thousands of years; a center, even, for pagan worship. Churches, of the Georgian Orthodox persuasion, are now the important drawing point for the town. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site (at least the three churches are), was once the official seat of the Georgian Orthodox Church and was the home of the royal family many moons ago. My favorite of the churches was the rather small church on top of a mountain presiding over the town and the confluence of two rivers. The churches we visited in Georgia were a welcome reprieve for me from the ornate Orthodox churches all over Ukraine. I much prefer the simplistic style that the Georgian churches use. After a while, I think, gilded shiny iconostases become a distraction, and there seems to be icon worship, but that is not something I’ll get into here. I should say, though, that while the churches were simple they were not Spartan.

We spent the afternoon visiting the three churches in town. The church on the mountain, as I mentioned, was one of my favorites. There were a few trees near the church, and on the trees prayer rags had been tied. Prayer rags are little strips of fabric tied around the branches of a tree in supplication for some sort of assistance. From what I have read frequently this supplication is for fertility. The same type of prayer rags are used near the mosques in Turkmenistan, so I guess this was one step towards that failed objective. Similar to the Islam in Turkmenistan, in Georgia the Christianity is still splashed with hints of the prior paganism which was once so common in the region. This was evident in Mtskheta, but it more evident in the truly isolated mountain villages. I wonder if certain colors are more successful in getting the prayers answered. Perhaps that can be some anthropology student’s Ph.D. dissertation, but I digress.

We made our way back to Tbilisi. We decided that it was imperative to capture photographic evidence (which I have shared above) of President George W. Bush Street, complete with a picture of the firmly unsmiling ex-Commander in Chief. The trip to the billboard brought us back across the city via the metro. It also involved a bit of meandering, and hopeful turns, which is a nice way to get a feeling for a city. Once the photographic evidence was obtained (more difficult than you’d expect because there were many cars zooming passed obstructing the camera view), it was time to get back to the ranch. When I say getting back to the ranch I truly mean going down to Rustaveli and having a delicious blue raspberry slushie.

We decided to walk back to the hostel from the slushie store. We were ultimately successful, despite a wrong turn bringing us to a park overlooking the bridge we needed to cross with no way to reach the bridge. After backtracking, and crossing the river we stopped for some dinner at a little café. I, optimist that I am, ordered the pizza. I should have learned after being in Ukraine for almost a year now that pizza should not be ordered anywhere that used to be a Soviet Socialist Republic, I’ll try not to make that mistake again, but I’m ever the optimist with pizza, the fries were good, though. Trying to redeem my pizza fiasco we bought a watermelon for desert. The man at the convenience store decided he would get us a nice, fresh, small watermelon. There were only two of us, after all. He grabs a small watermelon from the cooler and hands it to me, all 10lbs. of it. Now I can eat almost anything. And I can eat almost anything voraciously, and quickly. But, after a few bites, my system went into watermelon overload. I’m not sure what is worse: the watermelon overload, or “come on, Meegan, man up.” That phrase has mysterious powers over me. So, I stayed at the table trying to finish my colossal piece of watermelon. I had to face my defeat. Lessons in humility are a good thing, of course. They help us mature, and if it is from a watermelon that we learn our failings and shortcomings, then so be it. To be honest, I didn’t finish the full piece of watermelon. There was still a thin layer of pink over the rind, when I finally gave my unconditional surrender, and tossed the remains. In my defense, I did try to conceal all evidence of my failure. It was a quiet night, though, and we were able to rest up for our day-trip into wine country.

Our excursion into wine country was probably the highlight of the trip. At least it was for me. We were picked up about 9:00AM outside of our hostel. The contingent consisted of me, the esteemed Sara (my translator), a Turkish couple, a Latvian businessman now living in Tbilisi, our Georgian guide, and a driver. Our journey to Kakheti took us to a part of the country we had not yet seen, which we would not have seen otherwise. The first stop came after about two hours. This stop was a small tourist town called Signaghi. We walked through the town which looked a bit nouveau-rustic, with some hotels, and cafes, and an ancient (looking) wall around the town. After walking through the cobblestone streets we stopped at a café. I had my first experience with Turkish coffee, and I was quite happy with it. It was thick and packed a punch. The café looked out from a hill over fields and over to the border with Azerbaijan, only 12 kilometers from where we were. After awhile we got back in the truck and continued on our way. The trip went on for another hour and a half or so. Finally we made arrived at the wine factory. The factory is the factory of the Joint-Stock Corporation Kindzmarauli in the city Kvareli. If you can find any of the wine they produce it is worth a try. They had the best wine I have drank in a long time (not much of an accomplishment based on what I can afford in town).

Once we arrived at the factory we were given a tour of the grounds. Before the tour we were given a primer on why this region on Kakheti was special, what type of grapes were most popular here, and what type of wines we would be trying. We were also told about the history of the factory, its start, its relocation during Soviet times, the destruction of some of the less common types of grapes and the general knowledge of viniculture (doesn’t that word make me look smart?).

We were first brought to the area where grapes are mashed and processed for the wine. I liked how they had both the new equipment and the old Soviet equipment standing next to each other in juxtaposition. The next aspect was the tanks in which the wine is held. Again, both old and new were standing under the same roof. The brand new ones were made of shiny stainless steel, and had cold, cold water streaming down the outside. Next we saw where the wine is bottled, and where the old bottles are stored. There was a large barrel of wine in the basement reserved for the American Embassy. That, among some other things, made me envious of the embassy personnel in Tbilisi.

The highlight of our time at the factory was far and away the tasting. The tasting included a quick explanation of proper degustation of the wines, and how there are different strategies depending on whether the wine in question was white or red. Remember to swirl the wine, check the scent, check the coloring, fill your mouth and swish the wine around and hold it long enough to get the proper taste. I was very good at determining the major characteristics of the wine: whether it was white or red. The glasses of wine were washed down by a combination of walnuts, cheese, bread and there were even black olives on the table, but we all know my anathema for olives of any shade. Also involved in our tasting was a glass of chacha, the Georgian liquor akin to grappa, or fire. The tasting wrapped up with a bit of Georgian brandy. The chacha and brandy were not great, but the wine certainly was. This wrapped up our agenda for the factory. There was a store front at the factory that acted as their main wine shop. We waited a bit while our group shopped around. During this time we met a few Peace Corps Volunteers from Georgia. It was funny how perfect we found their country, and while we talked they had many of the same complaints that we do about Ukraine. We decided, that they were incorrect, however, and that Georgia is by the far the best country for a Peace Corps stint. While talking, the factory tour guide, and one of the factory owners began speaking with us as well. He was excited when he found out we were Peace Corps Volunteers, because a few years ago, at the factory he had worked with a business development volunteer. I think a job thinking of the best way to promote a wine factory must be among greatest site placements ever. After our group had wrapped up their purchases we made our way to the next stop: a Georgian feast.

We drove to a village not very far from the factory. We pulled up at a house and unloaded. The house had been turned, basically, into a museum of folk culture, and viniculture. There were traditional instruments, and traditional ways of producing wine, the usual museum-ish stuff. We were given the full tour, and then we were able look around outside. This was a strategy for biding time for the table to be set. This was the table of my dreams. It was full of some of the most delicious food I have had since October 15, 2009. There were fresh vegetables of all kinds, meat including beef, there was not one beet on the table! Our glasses were kept full, and the toasts were more sincere than any I have ever heard. It was interesting, for me, being at the table with Turks, and Georgians. They have very long memories. One toast began speaking of the history of bad blood between Turks and Georgians and the former bellicose relationship between the two nations (nations as in ethnic groups not the political entities we currently have), but these antagonisms ended maybe as many as three or four hundred years ago. But, eating and talking, and getting lubricated made for a tremendously enjoyable day for me. The toasting, as I mentioned, was formal. Not super formal, like at a traditional Georgian feast, but more formal than we’re used to. At a traditional Georgian table, only the toastmaster is allowed to make the toasts. These toasts are not the simple obligatory two or three sentences, but they are long, thought out, sometimes ramble and are delivered with solemnity. There is a picture above of our feast, and instead of trying to further elaborate you can see how delicious it looked. After the feast and the wine, the ride home was perfect for a phenomenal nap.

We passed President George W. Bush Street coming back into Tbilisi. It was slightly different this time, though. The sign had been spray painted and the words “NO WAR” and “WALT WHITMAN” were now the prominent features of the sign. Coincidentally I had recently asked Sara her thoughts on Walt Whitman, and expressed my complete disdain for the man. In the immortal words of Homer Simpson “Leaves of Grass my ass.” I wanted to get a picture of the newly defaced sign but Tbilisi has a very efficient public works department; after two days the sign had been restored to its original glory. The decider had returned. I still have no idea who in Georgia knows anything about Walt Whitman and why that would have been spray painted on a sign, but that is neither here nor there, and we’ll roll on to Sunday.

On Sunday we rented a cab and had it take us to the national park Borjomi about two hours west of Tbilisi. We went to Borjomi by way of Gori, the birthplace, and childhood home of Stalin. We dripped into his museum. The museum was interesting, but it failed to mention some key facts about Stalin: he was an asshole; he murdered millions of people; he enjoyed forced deportations. Then again, when they make a Pete Meegan Museum I hope they only concentrate on the good things: my rugged good looks and rocking biceps.

The museum also included Stalin’s private train car. I was impressed with the simplicity of the car. It was not grandiose, or elaborate. It had very simple sleeping quarters, a kitchen, and large bathroom with a bathtub and a conference room. Such a powerful man could have easily had a far more lavish personal train car. So I’ll say fair play to him on that front. But that is the only thing I’ll give him. Stalin also looked like a hipster when he was young, and I’m not a big fan of hipsters, so he’s got a few strikes against him in my book. As an aside, I recently spoke with a friend that went to the museum, also. He had a tour guide when he was there, and the tour guide did allow that “Stalin possibly was a mass murderer.”

Gori was just a quick stop. The small home, train car, and cases of gifts for Stalin could not stop us from getting to Borjomi. Perhaps, in retrospect, it was a bad idea. We didn’t allow ourselves enough time to really see and do a lot of things, but we did take a little hike there, and also stopped for a very tasty meal of traditional Georgian food. Borjomi is a place famous throughout the former Soviet Union. From this town comes one of the USSR’s favorite mineral waters. I still cannot drink it, but it is definitely popular. It has a slightly salty flavor, and is just not as refreshing as I want my water to be, but those that imbibe regularly sing its praises. So, while I do not enjoy the mineral water, the place itself was impressive. It reminded me a bit of Maine, and Sara a bit of West Virginia. So, we spent a couple of hours here, in Borjomi, before heading back to the home base. One regret I have: there was a highway sign we passed, and I wish I had gotten a picture of it. On the sign the cities Tbilisi, Baku (capital of Azerbaijan), Yerevan (capital of Armenia), and Tehran were listed with the distances in kilometers. It was pretty crazy to see how close we were to all these places.

Monday was the day we wound down our trip. We stayed in Tbilisi on Monday, and bumbled about before heading the airport around 11:00PM. While bumbling around I lobbied to spend some time at a café called Caliban’s Coffeehouse, part of Prospero’s Books, an English-language book store in Tbilisi. This is a place I wish they had in Kyiv. We spent much of the afternoon here, I drinking coffee out of a French Press reading my book. The coffee was a bit expensive, but completely worth it. I really wanted to buy some more books while I was here, some on the history, and politics of Georgia, particularly the 2008 war with Russia, but all the interesting books were far more than I could afford. Sitting, drinking coffee, reading a book, and hearing alt-country playing lowly in a corner, I felt like I could have been sitting in a café, or Updike’s Newtowne, back home; it was hard to peel myself off my chair, to get on to walking the city.

As we continued we walked further around the city. We went down some streets we had not yet been down, by the river, and away from it. A great way to see a city is to wander aimlessly. Going in and out of different streets and hollows, you get a much better idea of what you’re dealing with, more so than if you remain on the main streets. This went on for a while, until we made our way to lunch. The place looked a bit tacky, with the menu on the door, but we were pleasantly surprised. It was good food, and a nice interior, it reminded me a bit of the Pagoda Inn, back in North Kingstown, only serving Georgian food, and Mom and Dad weren’t paying. I am currently trying to find where I can get Georgian food in Kyiv, it was phenomenal. I could live a very satiated life in that country.

Biding time until our flight we prolonged the wandering. Even going so far as to climb a really, really, really tall hill that overlooked the city. At first, I thought it was a joke, “let’s go climb the funicular route.” I didn’t imagine we would make our way that high above the city. It looked so close from the bottom, though. It’s just that the hill wouldn’t stop. Eventually decided we would have to make our way to the airport, and back to the land of kholodets and salo.

Arriving back in Ukraine, the land of no smiling, was difficult. We knew we were back as soon as we landed, and were thrown into a bus packed as tight as Rush Limbaugh in a suit. Sara must have seen my face because she just started laughing at me as soon as I saw the bus we had to ride into the terminal. Alas, we made it back safe and sound, ready to finish up the last two weeks of our summer break. I didn’t make it back to site for another 2 days, but I managed, and here I am.

Sorry for the length, but I hope you enjoy the pictures. Mark October 12^th on your calendars, it is the date of my glorious ten-day return. Hope all is well in the Home of the Brave, and I’m glad Earl was all tuckered out by the time he reached your shores.

Be well and be good,

Pete