STRESS

Felix and I have parties. We have lots of parties. We have lots of big parties with lots of people. I create a theme for each party. Every party has a different theme. Every theme involves everything at the party being related to the theme (invitations, food, decorations, plates, thank yous, loot bags/take home gifts). Before every party we have a huge fight and both of us threaten to call all of the guests (usually between 40-60ppl) and cancel the party. Felix and I then have a party.

The fights we have had in the past are comical in hindsight. One, in particular, comes to mind… a few Christmases ago we were hosting our annual Christmas party. There are a few traditions we carry through all of our parties and one happens to be cupcakes. This Christmas I have found and bought Christmas themed cupcake cups and put them away somewhere for safe keeping. Fast forward. Day of the party, 4 hours before guests arrive: I need to make the cupcakes so they can cool and can be iced before the party, but first I need my Christmas cupcake cups… “Felix, hunny, where are the Christmas muffin cups I bought last month?” (Felix used to have a wonderful answer to questions like this) “I don’t know” he replied and walked away and so began a HUGE blow out. We fought in the house about the cupcakes, we fought in the hallway about who was calling everyone, we fought in the parking garage about who was gonna get to storm off in an angry huff (I won this one as I had the car keys). I went to a friend’s, cooled down and eventually returned home with a snack for Felix accompanied by his favourite bottle of wine. We had a splendid evening, and no one noticed that the cupcakes were NOT baked in Christmas cups. We found the cupcake cups a year and a half later as we were packing up our condo to move, and we laughed.

Today was a Holiday in Ukraine (I don’t know which holiday, I know the church was open… they have LOTS of holidays here). The family has been in a tizzy for 3 days getting ready to have a small dinner party. Including the family, there was to be 10 people sitting around the dinner table, and I think we cooked enough food for 40; including, but not limited to a full cow heart – ventricles and all! There was a lot of work to do today, and the clock was ticking away. I was aware of a potential storm brewing last night as I was up on the computer waitint to talk to felix and Mama was pacing back and fourth – she was in pain she said – and I worried about her lack of sleep the night before the big day.

I was right, about 2 hours before the scheduled arrival of our guests the apartment erupted – apparently all 4 of the white table cloths had been forgotten about, and for some reason at the moment the iron was not working. It was a catastrophe. There were tears, and yelling, and slamming and stomping. I was struggling to follow along at the beginning, and eventually excused myself to my room as I decided it was a family moment ad my being there might provoke more stress by heaping on embarrassment to the pile.

Once things had calmed down a little bit and the stomping and slamming turned into weeping I emerged and tried to disarm the situation – in broken Ukrainian I tried to explain that it really wants a HUGE deal, and there was nothing we could do about it now. My message didn’t really get across I was told that I didn’t understand how important it was to have a white table cloth in Ukraine… I still thought it was a small detail (and when I tried to explain this she thought I was telling her that she was acting like a little child, rather than telling here it was a small detail – but this wasn’t my worst language blunder of the day…).

I have to say it was so interesting to be on the outside of this one. To watch temperatures and stress levels rise and finally peak. I tracked the warning signs and could relate with every stage of the stress. But the most interesting part was realizing that the things that trigger these stress blowups are usually soooooo unbelievably trivial and inconsequential. I know that if I was mama and someone told me what I was telling her I’d want to smack them (I’d probably want to do more violent things to them, but I wont detail those here), and there would be no sense in trying to calm me down. But seeing it from a spectators perspective lent a whole new lens to these stress situations.

What I realized is how silly these fights look from the outside – really? That kind of a fight over MUFFIN CUPS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? When I am in these situations I say and do exactly the same things. Blowing up doesn’t solve the problem it just makes everyone feel like crap. The striking realization was how silly one looks when engaged in this kind of behavior… and I don’t think I ever want to look like this ever again! The tears and the stomping and the slamming and th yelling didn’t get mama her white table cloth, and they didn’t find me my muffin cups. In the end we both just lost time, and had to take up more time being the puppy with our tail between our legs apologizing to the people around us who we abused.

I guess the bottom line is that no one is immune to stress, and it really is all in the way we handle it. Realizing that these stressful situations cause me to act like a child and abuse the people I love over trivial b*llsh*t is a good thing, and will hopefully give me pause to think about my actions the next party we have (it’s looking like thanksgiving for anyone who’s interested…). It was a neat learning experience… And turned out to be a great dinner even with the blue table cloth.

Looking forward to the next (fight free) party

*love*

They all placed bets….

My friends and family (yes you!) all placed bets wagering on how long it would take me to decide to bring home an orphan, and also how many I would come home with… most were utterly astonished that it has taken me this long to profess my intention to bring home an orphan. I wanna know who won what....

It took me 59 days – just under two months – to post that I wanted to bring home (at least) one of the kids from the Internat – and there are two that if given the opportunity, I would pack in my suitcase.

There are two valid questions here 1) why did it take me this long, and 2)why would I like to bring home an orphan.

The first question is what everyone is wondering. I am not sure I can fully answer that right now and I think I will suggest that you stay tuned to future posts because there’s something big brewing; I’m just waiting to my brain to finish processing…. But I will say that this is partially due to a language barrier that has prevented the type of bonding I was initially expecting, and it has taken this long (2 months) for strong bonds and connections to really come to fruition… but more on this upcoming…

The second question. This will also make much more sense after the next couple blogs but I am ready to post this one, not those ones…

So the two girls I would bring home with me are Ira, and Rosa. Who they are is intertwined with why I want to bring them home. I do not feel a strong “family” type connection with these girls. I care about them but not any more that the other girls (ok, maybe a LITTLE bit) but there is something special about these two. I think it’s partially their receptiveness to learning, their ability to problem solve, and be flexible, and how they perform when given a task. They are bright, trusting, and most importantly willing.

Ira has been my life line. She sticks close by me and helps to break down some of the language barriers. She is always looking for ways to help explain words that I don’t understand and simplifies things that the other kids say to me. She is there to help explain activities, and has taught me quite a few new words and concepts. This is a challenging task for a 13 year old. You need to have a grasp of the language and be flexible in your usage of words and meanings. I think she is one of very few of the girls that has this level of mental functioning. I am very much concerned that she is not being stimulated enough at the Internat.

As for Rosa, she is quiet, but keen. She is interested in learning new things and always seeks reassurance and approval. She does not have Ira’s level of mental functioning, but what she lacks in ability she makes up for with tenacity. I enjoy teaching her new things and watching her gain confidence as she struggles, learns and masters whatever it is she is doing. The thing that pulls at my heart the most is that (I am going out on a HUGE limb here) in watching Rosa I think that living in a hetronormative/homonegative environment may be problematic for Rosa as she ages.

Wanting to bring these two girls home is not because I want to collect a gaggle of international children (a la Angelina), and it’s not even because I’m DYING to be a parent; it is really more for their own sake. I think that these are the two girls, out of all of the children at the Internat, that have the ability to adapt to the move and possess the qualities necessary for them to flourish in Canadian society. To bring them to Canada would be opening up a world of possibility for them, and allowing them opportunities that they can not even dream about while living in an institution in Ukraine. For Ira it is the potential for mental stimulation, and perhaps even a long an fruitful educational career. For Rosa it is partially the mental stimulation, but also being able to live in a culture that allows her to express herself, and encourages her to become herown person. This isn’t to say that the other girls are not worth of opportunity, but I don’t think all of them are capable of making the same kind of drastic life change (i.e. moving to a whole different country/life/family…).

The Internat is a place that, in my mind, is devoid of anything remotely resembling opportunity. It is the antithesis of opportunity. I feel like there is a great big neon sign at the driveway flashing a garish “DEAD END” to anyone who cares to steal a glance. It would be my greatest joy to be able to liberate all of the girls from their purgative sentences there, but there seems to be a greater urgency for some, like Ira and Rosa, than others.

Felix made it very clear that the only things allowed I my suitcase were non living items, and I have no choice but to listen at this point… BUT let it be know that if I had the means of supporting these two wonderful girls, I would be filling in adoption papers rather than posting this blog.

*love*

Beauty is more than what's outside.... it's about lessons.

For some people at the Internat (nurses/workers) it is a job that pays money, and at the end of the day they go home. There are others, the rare gems that work there, and for them it is about enriching the lives of the girls. Bogdan is one such gem. He is kind of like a grandfather figure to the girls – teaching them songs, music, poems. I have “caught” him bring the girls fresh picked fruit, or candies of other little treats. Bogdan regularly tries to come up with events, or activities that will be new, interesting and stimulating for the girls. He loves to teach them new songs, and new dances and tries to find opportunities for them to showcase their talents. Bogdan really likes when the Canadian Students arrive because they are always full of new ideas for new moves, new events, and other ways to stimulate and enrich the lives of the Girls at the orphanage.

Through the translator that was with me for the first couple of days, Bogdan asked if I would help organize a few big events for the girls – I fully committed myself. Bogdan also asked if I would be willing to buy some materials for costumes and props if we staged a performance – and of course I agreed. Then Bogdan began to share some of his ideas – he wants to have a music night – wonderful! He wants to teach the girls some new dance moves – I can’t wait! He wants my ideas – I’m interested in having an “art show” and he saved the best for last – at the end of the summer he wants to have an INTERNAT BEAUTY COMPETITION!!! The sound of my heart hitting the floor was audible….

So Bogdan asked if I would be willing to buy the prizes for this beauty competition. SURE I’m up for buying prizes… no I’m not ok with supporting a beauty competition.

So at first I though about how we would go about choosing a winner. Who would be the judges, and what would the criteria be? And then I thought about prizing – how would it work? Could we give everyone a prize for being “beautiful”? Could everyone get a prize for being the “most beautiful” in their own category? Like she has the most beautiful eyes, she has the most beautiful smile, she has the most beautiful clothes…and still I found I was uncomfortable with the whole idea. It wasn’t about the prizes, it was deeper than that…

Ok, let me give you a vision from my first week at the orphanage (oh gosh I wish I had Dumbledore’s memory sieve…) the kids are pretty much left to their own devices from June 1st till September 1st as it is summer vacation and there are no formal lessons. The kids are allowed to mill about the grounds plying with balls, taking walks, gardening or whatever else suits them. At about one o’clock various shouts ring out ЇСТИ (yeeeestayyyyy – Eat!) it’s lunch time. The first time I half expected to be bowled over by the rush of kids into the dining hall, but this wasn’t the case. The younger kids went running, but many of the older girls (13-19) were adamant that they were not interested in lunch. For the next couple days I observed the younger kids go running, and the older kids hang their heads and skulk off. When I asked them why they didn’t want to eat they looked away and told me Я не хотчу (ya neh hotchu – I don’t want to) but didn’t go into any other explanation. The next time my translator was with me, I made sure we were there at lunch time, and asked if he knew anything about this strange occurrence. Orest didn’t have to ask, apparently this had been going on for a while – they all want to be on diets!

Ok, now come back to the proposal of a beauty contest. The orphanage is removed from society. The girls are not even a little bit integrated into the society at large. They live in seclusion with older women as their teachers and role models. Their only connection to the “outside world” is the occasional field trip, and (heaven help us) television – and from that they have already gleaned that they need to be skinny and beautiful in order to be “normal”. We have accepted that this idea exists in our western culture and society, but for some reason it is so much more disturbing that this value system has infected this remote location as well.

I felt guilty that I was so opposed to an “innocent” idea that was intended to be fun and enjoyable for the girls. I realized that Bogdan only had the girls’ best interest at heart, but there was still something nagging… So after a couple hours of pondering and reflection I realized why it is that the idea of a beauty contest didn’t sit right with me: it’s not about judging and choosing a winner. It wasn’t about the prizes: sure we can give everyone a prize and make them feel good about that special quality that they possess (although part of me thinks that the girls aren’t stupid and would catch on…). I realized that my issue was much more big picture. To host an event like a beauty pageant encourages the girls to be “beautiful” in whatever way they think beauty is best defined – undoubtly their idea of what is beautiful has been propagated and poisoned by television. The fact that the people they look up to, care for and respect (Bogdan and the “Canadian Students”) are the ones suggesting this event also suggests that we hold in beauty high regard – as something to be strived for an achieved. Although the event may be enjoyable for the girls in the moment, the longer lasting life lessons that this type of event teaches them (I think) is unbelievably damaging.

Yes I am here (in Ukraine, at the orphanage) to help enrich the lives of the girls, but I am convinced that this type of event is NOT at all enriching and I would be more comfortable with not organizing an event at ALL rather than organizing this type of event. I have suggested that instead of having a “beauty pageant” we stage a talent contest, or an art show that focuses the girls on attaining skills rather than striving for “beauty”.

Am I just a stick in the mud? (I'd love to hear from you....)

*love*

The Travellers Bond

Travelling alone is a challenge. It takes a while to get accustomed to new surroundings, to learn and be proficient in a new language, and to start to feel like one is at home. For me the hardest part of travelling alone is not having someone to share the experience with. Perhaps this is a product of me being an extrovert – but I find that I am uninterested in even the most glorious of sights and experiences if I must witness them alone. For me the richness of an experience comes from the richness of my company. Every time I venture to a new location, or historic sight or have a new experience here I can’t help but feel nostalgic about people whom I care about and how much the experience would mean to them.

In my experience as a traveler, and with friends who have travelled, people seem to make friends on their voyages – and not just friends for the voyage, but deep and long lasting friendships that transcend borders and barriers. These friendships are formed on the bases of shared experiences, and it is these shared experiences that act as the super glue that bonds people together. I am convinced that we are initially moved to make friendships so that we can share our experience with people we care about, and then we are compelled to maintain these friendships because of the secret treasures that these friendships represent.

My journey so far here in Ukraine is no exception to this idea of the Travelers Bond. I have been very lucky to share my journey with three wonderful people from Saskatoon : Christina, Sean and Mike. Unfortunately their stays in Ternopil are now over – Christina returned 2 weeks ago, Sean left yesterday, spent a night with Felix (a Toronto Layover) and is now heading back to Saskatoon, and Mike is hanging out in Lviv with family for two weeks and then heading home. And now after spending seven and a half weeks in their company, I am finding myself missing them in very specific ways…

What I’ll miss about Christina:
Christina was probably the most Ukrainian out of the four of us. She was raised in a Ukrainian household, with Ukrainian parents and grandparents who were determined to hang on to their cultural roots. Christina added a wonderful dynamic to the group because she knowledgeable about the country, the people and the culture. She knew where we should go and what we absolutely HAD to see – in fact it was because of her that we were finally able to go to the Carpathian Mountains as a group. Christina was interested in making the most of her visit to her “homeland” and that excitement and interest was definitely transferred to the rest of us. Chrstina was invaluable to all of us because she had the greatest command of Ukrainian language and was able to read us menus, and communicate with locals to ensure that we were taken care of. Christina had a way about her that made me want to always highlight the positives in every experience. I will miss Christina because she got me excited about being Ukrainian for 4 months. I wish her all the best in her studies and future….

What I will miss about Sean:
Sean is an interesting character who spent a lot of time on this trip sick. Sean is very introverted – he doesn’t like to talk very much. He is logical and calculated – studying to be an engineer. Sean is a devoted Catholic. Sean had this blunt way about him that could be jarring: he once said “your extreme niceness freaks me out a little bit…” Sean and I bonded over opposites. Our friendship had an adversarial layer to it that got both of us going. We discussed hot topics like judgment, stereotypes, pornography, and masturbation (me being a sexuality major and him being a catholic), we discussed morals, homosexuality, politics, abortion, birthcontrol and almost ever other possible controversial topic we could get our hands on. We disagreed on almost everything, but accept for one single occasion where the claws came out a little bit (and mainly just due to being hot and cranky, rather than being overly emotional about a topic), we were both able to maintain composure, observe patience, and use intellect and words rather than claws to navigate our differences. Sean taught me patience, he taught me to listen to someone with opinions so very different from my own. Meeting Sean was an interesting experience because I was given a view of life from a very very different lens than my own. Sean, unknowingly, urged me to be unjudging and accepting of difference (we disagreed on some very fundamental issues) and to see past a person’s beliefs to see more of the person. I will miss having this other perspective in my life, and I will really miss the intellectual and philosophical work out Sean gave me on an almost daily basis. I will miss Sean for the challenges.

And then there’s Mike.
Mike’s parents would be proud to know they have raised a true gentleman. On one of our outings I told mike he was a gentleman and Mike replied “I took a book out from the library on being a gentleman…. Actually I don’t think I ever returned it…” I laughed incredible hard at the irony of it all. Mike is incredibly well cultured. He is accepting and tolerant, and knows how to turn a challenging situation into a wonderful opportunity to laugh. Mike and I share deep, soul connecting conversations about live, and love and family. Although we were kind of tipsy and engaged in some random activity, I was truly honoured to be with Mike when he found out that his grandfather passed away; it was nice to be there as a friend, and an honour to be leaned on (although he didn’t do much leaning). I will miss the understanding that the end of every day must be punctuated by a beer (and usually icecream too). I will miss hunting for a Ukrainian wife with Mike; I will miss the great conversation, the sharing of musical tastes, and our shared gutter mind.

I really hope that if we are ever in each other’s cities, or even provinces, we will be able to connect once again and strengthen the travelers bond that we have created. It has been wonderful to know the three of you, and I thank you for helping to enrich my experience of Ukraine by just being with me through my journey, and allowing me to join you on yours!!


And then there was one…

*love*

Worth a thousand words....

Its been a while since I've posted, annnnnd I feel a little bit guilty! I'm working on it, promise.

In order to tied you over I am posting a bunch of links to my photo albums so you can peruse as you anxiously await my next post (hahahahahahahahahahahahah).

Here are all of the albums I"ve compiled thus far (oldest to newest)
please just click the links - you DO NOT need a facebook account to view the photos.

Kremenets/Pochiav - the mountain and the monastery:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=178621&id=502267126&l=b73db23afc

My first visit to the Internat: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=177897&id=502267126&l=c2b8472f7e

Monkeying around at the Internat: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=179917&id=502267126&l=5866a7ba7a

Khotin and Kamianets-Podilskyi (the fortress and the Castle) : http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=180828&id=502267126&l=274a288d26

May Ternopil photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=177788&id=502267126&l=05c3b70acf

Carpathian Mountains: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=182814&id=502267126&l=b153c2c0bc

Pysanka (Ukrainian Easter egg) Museum (at Kociv) : http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=182870&id=502267126&l=41f5248467

Zbarash Castle: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=184193&id=502267126&l=25d45752e0

Lviv: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=185593&id=502267126&l=39b5a76229

Internat - Outside play as shot BY the girls: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=185592&id=502267126&l=c449680d74

Thats all for now... (That SHOULD keep you busy for a little while)
*love*

Joanne... you promised!

Joanne promised that I didn't have to worry about squat toilettes here in Ukraine... she wasn’t totally honest in this promise, and I was also lead to believe that squat toilettes are the worst a toilette can get…

(please excuse the graphic details of this post, it’s NOT for the feint at heart… you have been formally warned)

Larissa (my language professor) claimed the toilettes we the shame of Ukrainian culture. This is more true than you can ever know. Finding a reliable toilettes is a challenge at the best of times here.

So first I’ll deal with squats – there ARE squat toilettes here – and specifically there are squat toilettes (and only squat toilettes) at the university. Squat toilettes here are vile places and one gets the impression that Ukrainians don’t have very good aim, and no one is paid to clean. There are also squats in public places, like publically funded toilettes. This seems to be an older thing and more modern places have toilettes. I am going to chalk this up to former Soviet frugality, and call it one of the deep festering wounds that the Soviets left on Ukrainian culture.

On to other toilettes. The toilettes in bars and restaurants vary from decent to disgusting. There is one bar we frequent that has wonderful toilette facilities during the day, but then after 7pm they seem to deteriorate into oblivion. The only light source is a red bulb which only adds to the griminess of the place. I walked in to this particular toilettes one night dancing with urgency, took a look around, and walked out cool as a cucumber – my bodily functions were silenced by revolt!

And there are places with no toilettes at all… we ran into a man on the weekend who was building a tourist bar in the Carpathian region and for cost cutting purposes had decided not to install a bathroom. Our driver told him that he was the “shame of Ukraine” and that he would never bring tourists to his establishment for making such a terrible decision. This is not an isolated incident. Many establishment owners will cut out the cost of installing a bathroom because it is not their issue if patrons don’t go before they leave the house.

And speaking of houses – the toilette at home (my home stay home) is better, but not by much! I remember getting here the first night – not having peed in over 24 hours (yes this is a long time, and I’ll explain in a minute) and was asked if I wanted to sleep or washroom first – I chose washroom – I went in and closed the door; I was really confused that there was a sink, a tub, a laundry machine, a clothes drying rack, some shelves…. But no toilettes! To tell you the truth, I panicked a little bit. So I opened the door, and in English asked for a toilettes – it was the next room over beside the dining table. It really is what the French refer to as a “water closet” it is tiny little closet space and JUST a toilette! That first time I used it I banged my head on the door knob getting up, I fell backwards back onto the toilette seat and made so much noise navigating pulling my pants back up that they knocked to make sure I was ok!! I have since gotten used to the little toilette closet, the proximity to the dining area, and the inconsistent supply of toilettes paper, but I am really having trouble adjusting to the lack of sink in the toilettes room.

A couple years ago I went in for a uterine ultrasound and of course they made me drink a whole bunch of water before bed and prohibited me from peeing in the morning. I did what I was told and raced to the clinic in the morning to get everything over with. I will never forget the tech who did my ultrasound she was very shocked she said “oh my goodness! Look at how big it is, oh my goodness, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bladder that large, and MY you’re full!! Wow! You are really really full!” after her fawning over my bladder for 3 full minutes I politely asked if we could move on with the ultrasound and reminded her about how “full” I was. In Canada I take full advantage of my large bladed because I have a phobia of public washrooms (no it’s not the germs, it’s the pedophiles, but that’s a long story I’m NOT going into) so I am able to hold my pee for long enough (usually, unless I sneeze, and that too is another story for another day) that I can get through even my longest of days and only have to use the toilette at home. I am generally good for 14-16 hours before I HAVE to use a toilette. Here in Ukraine my abnormally large bladder comes in handy while navigating the different toilette situations one might find themselves in here and generally if I plan it right I only have to use the toilettes at home and can skip the Ukrainian public washroom experience!!

(I’m gonna get more graphic here…)

Why am I telling you all about toilettes… I am debating NOT going into the Internat tomorrow for fear of lack of reliable toilette facilities. This weekend marked the end of a menstrual cycle, and I’m not sure why but it is a particularly abnormal cycle in which I am bleeding like the jugular of a stuck cow in an African Maasai Blood Ritual (yes I am taking multi vitamins with iron…) and have no choice but to be close to a toilette at all times or risk… well, you know, it’s risky I don’t have to go into stained chair stories or other graphic details. I realized this weekend while touring around the Carpathian Mountains that the need to use a bathroom more frequently than every 12 hours becomes a real problem here.

As I said some of the lack of reliable facilities stems from the frugality of the former Soviet lifestyle both in terms of paying for facilities and the expenses that are associated with maintenance: water, cleaning, repair. This frugality has survived both in the infrastructure (public toilettes) as well as in the minds and practices of people who lived in that culture for so long (like the Carpathian bar owner). If you ask Ukrainians about their toilettes, you can tell that it is a point of shame for them especially when talking to a foreigner. I think both for hygienic reasons, and as an issue of national pride something should be done about the toilettes here!!

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more….

Now I must leave you to go to the toilette… I’ve bl… erm business to attend to *cough*

*Love*

Деніс ні Канадйка, Деніс Українка!

Today is officially one month plus two days since I arrived in Ukraine. What a month it has been! I though it appropriate to give a general overview of things here and where I’m at – a more macro perspective than some of the other posts.

Let me start with how I’m feeling – I love it here. Like really without even a touch of exaggeration I am really in love with being here. I knew the hour after my suitcase arrived (12 hours after I had arrived) that I was going to have an easy time adjusting. In my first e-mail home to Joanne I told her how much of a blast I had been having. She cautioned that my euphoric feelings were just a honey moon phase. I was definitely given pause and reflected heavily on why I was having such a great time… Here’s what I came up with:

First and foremost, this has been the best “vacation” of my life! As stressful as getting here was, as soon as I arrived here I was absolved of all of my Canadian responsibilities, and in so doing all of my Canadian stress melted away – no more cookies, or house cleaning, or driving, or school, or papers, or family or sick cat, or money worries it was all gone. Ok so Living in a different continent/country/city and learning a new language and adjusting are all challenges, but when you’re used to living life with a red lining stress level at all times, a 20% stress level is more than manageable no matter what the task. No more anxious hours and heart palpitations – I can take on anything Ukraine has to offer!

There are two other (related) things that have made a huge difference in how quickly I’ve adjusted. One is that I didn’t leave much behind, save Felix and the dogs (and amazing friends), and although I miss Fee and the boys and my wonderful friends I know that I’ll see them (you) again (actually exactly 100 days from today – and no I’m not counting down the days I’m keeping track of the days left as a reminder to make the most of every single day). The other contributing factor is my Ukrainian Family – I’ve talked about this before – this is probably the thing that will stay with me for the rest of my life and the “foreign” experience that will most shape me coming out of this trip. Mike (one of the Sask kids) and I talked about how each one of us Canadian students was perfectly matched with a Ukrainian family, and each family seems to be exactly what each of us needed. How the universe aligned to make that happen I’ll never know… But I know that Tanya, Luba, Sasha and Slaveek have earned a very very special place in my heart.

So the other thing that is protecting me from the falling out of the honeymoon phase is that I think life here is so wonderfully simple. The first week I was here I started making a list of all of the things that my family needed from Canada to make their lives easier – things like a can opener, oven mitts, an oven with a temperature gage, a non-rotary phone, a DVD player (I was gonna have felix ship it all, well, not the oven)… and then in the second week I deleted that list and started a list of all the things that Canadians need to learn from the Ukrainians to a) make their lives easier, b) take better care of the planet, c) be better people (I’ll probably post this list at the end of the summer, or not… no promises). And the truth of the matter is that even without the conveniences of home (home being Canada), life goes on here and seems to go on much more smoothly! This re framing of life and redefining what comfort is happened without much struggle on my part – I can attributes this partially to the fact that I have never really found comfort and self definition in material objects and the richness of the people here more than make up for the fact that we don’t have a can opener or a clothes drying machine.

I have also spent the month learning a new language (which also wasn’t particularly difficult overall) making new friends, and exploring an interesting and magnificent country that’s beauty I steeped in a deep and rich history. I have made an effort to assimilate into the culture by learning how to cook traditional dishes and do Ukrainian cross stitch( which is a lot of bloody work!!). Mama (Luba) had taken a liking to telling me and all of her friends that “Деніс ні Канадйка, Деніс Українка!!” (Denise is not Candian, Denise is Ukrainian) which I think is great proof of my adjustment. I think out of the 33 days I’ve been here I can admit to having a single bad day that stemmed from being super sick with bronchitis, stir crazy from being in the house for 3 days, and sweltering from the 30+ degree weather, but a good sleep cleared that bad mood right up. I expect a small slump when the Saskatoon kids leave and I have to adjust to being here alone, but I think I’m up for the challenge, and I don’t expect to loose my honeymoon euphoria!!

If all else fails.... beer is less than one Canadian dollar for half a litre and is double the alcohol content; this means if I take a turn for the worst I can afford to drink my sorrows away!! (hahahahah)


*love*