My life has been consumed these past few weeks with the process of trying to receive a visa to be in Ukraine until the end of my service which is now July 2013. As I said in earlier posts, the Ukraine government changed their visa laws last October, requiring a new form of visa for all foreigners, which has resulted in Peace Corps Volunteers taking over our own registration process, something that had previously been done in Kyiv without our involvement.
Right now, this only affects those of us who are extending and the group that was sworn in last December. However, all new groups will have to abide by the new registration process, unless the pleas of the U.S. Embassy are successful in changing the requirements, which they mostly likely will be, given that the Ambassador is now meeting with the Ukraine Minister of Foreign Affairs.
However, for Volunteers like me, who cannot wait for the outcome of these high level talks, it has been a nightmare. Initially, I was told to wait for the central registration process to happen in Kyiv once Peace Corps learned of how many documents were going to be required in Crimea. But the visa I received from the Moldova trip expires at the end of March, and with no word from Kyiv, my Peace Corps manager told Nadjie and I we had to start working on getting the registration done in Crimea.
So we have spent every day for the last two weeks in various government offices, pursuing the elusive visa. Our biggest stumbling block has been the fact that landlords have to be involved in the registration process, providing documents proving their ownership of the house/apartment. Almost all landlords are reluctant to do this, as they are fearful of added taxes, etc., but in the case of Crimean Tatars, people don’t even have ownership documents. I discovered this fact when Neshet went with me to the registration place, only to be turned down because of not having the right documents. He has a document showing ownership of the land, but not the house. When I asked him why, he explained that when Crimean Tatars first returned to Crimea, they were only allowed to build houses in remote, unpopulated villages such as where Lenura’s parents live. They were denied access to land in Simferopol, where, of course, there was a much greater possibility of finding work. So people just started to squat on empty land surrounding Simferopol and began to build their houses. Eventually the government acquiesced (after a prolonged protest in the city center), and five “compact settlements” were established around Simferopol where Crimean Tatars could own land and build houses. At some point they were given deeds to the land, but by then, for the early settlers like Neshet, the houses had long been built without the required permits. And thus, they have no document showing that they own a house. Which begs the question of how they will pass their houses on to their children, and could the houses ever be sold. Many people have built substantial homes and over the years have continued to add improvements, such as what Neshet has done with our house. But all that work and money apparently will never be able to come back to them until there is some further development in the land reparations dispute.
But as it turns out, with the visa registration process the government doesn’t really care if you actually live were documents say you do--they just want some landlord to come forward and register you as living there. So we asked around Ak Mechet and the library to find someone who might possibly have the right ownership documents. Most people didn’t, but finally someone at the library told us to call someone she knew in one of the settlements who owned a large building with various apartments, and he agreed to act as my landlord.
So that brings me to the next stage of my adventure—my meeting with, as it turns out, the legendary Eskender Umerova.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Visa Struggles
No new word on the Ukraine visa front, but one Volunteer I know whose visa is expiring this week was told that she might have to pay some kind of fine and just stay here with the expired visa until she returns to the U.S. in August. Just got an update via email—the Volunteer was told that she will be in the country illegally for now and the Peace Corps will provide some kind of letter. Showing what, I’m not sure. Somehow this feels like the ultimate practice of “letting go” of the belief that what I do determines the course of my life. I have done what I can do to affect this process, and now I just have to trust that so boodet normano—all will be okay. And try not to get too frustrated with the Peace Corps not-very-helpful communication process.
I also have to keep in mind that I am an American citizen, which is a huge privilege that gives me the right to travel almost anywhere in the world with no hassles. How much I took that for granted, indeed never really thought about it, in my pre-Peace Corps life. And perhaps even living in Ukraine I would have continued to not recognize what a privilege an American passport is if I hadn’t accompanied Serdar on his quest to get a visa to visit the U.S., or any western country for that matter.
In the latest attempt to secure him a visa to visit the US, recently I met with an acquaintance from the U.S. Embassy who now works in the consulate section, reviewing visa applications. Due to the constraints of her position, she was only willing to give me general information, but I came away from the conversation realizing that Serdar will probably never be able to get a U.S. tourist visa as a young person. Once he is done with university and has successfully established a family and career in Ukraine, he will have a much greater chance to receive a visa. But he is in that category of applicants that is automatically rejected because of the fear that they will stay in the U.S. illegally.
The one possible opportunity for him to come to the U.S. as a young person is a State Department program called Work and Travel. Basically it is a way that foreign university students can spend the summer in the U.S., mostly working service type jobs in resorts, and supposedly travelling for a month at the end of the summer, though this privilege is excluded from the Ukrainian program, as all the universities here start at the beginning of September. And for the privilege of working his/her butt off at some crappy job, a student has to pay a minimum of $1500 plus travel expenses. I have talked to several students who have gone to the U.S. under this program—some have liked it, others have hated it. But it is a way to get a visa to the U.S. for a population that would otherwise be denied that privilege.
But here is the real kicker. They told Serdar that he might not even be able to receive a visa through that program because it is on his record that he was once denied a visa. So last year when I wanted to take him to the US with me and thought there would be no problem for him to get a visa since he would be traveling with a Peace Corps Volunteer, an assumption born out of my then ignorance of the visa process, in the end resulted in further damaging his prospects for visiting America, something he so badly wants. We have both come to accept it, an easier task for me of course, and have begun to talk about maybe doing a small trip somewhere else this summer. But ever country I look at requires a visa from a Ukrainian citizen, the only exception being Russia, Belarus, and Turkey, and perhaps some of the “Stans” (Uzbekistan, etc.). And obtaining a visa usually means two trips to the country consulate, most of whom are located in Kyiv. So an expensive hassle and always with the uncertainty of whether or not he will get a visa. It is a fact of life here that people are sort of trapped—not as much as when there was the “Iron Curtain” of course—but still, it isn’t an easy process to travel out of the country. And that fact, almost more than anything else I have encountered living here, brings home the reality of what it means to be an American in the eyes of the rest of the world. Do we really deserve this welcome, this freedom to move across borders unencumbered? Many times, I think not. But I am grateful for it.
With love from Crimea.
I also have to keep in mind that I am an American citizen, which is a huge privilege that gives me the right to travel almost anywhere in the world with no hassles. How much I took that for granted, indeed never really thought about it, in my pre-Peace Corps life. And perhaps even living in Ukraine I would have continued to not recognize what a privilege an American passport is if I hadn’t accompanied Serdar on his quest to get a visa to visit the U.S., or any western country for that matter.
In the latest attempt to secure him a visa to visit the US, recently I met with an acquaintance from the U.S. Embassy who now works in the consulate section, reviewing visa applications. Due to the constraints of her position, she was only willing to give me general information, but I came away from the conversation realizing that Serdar will probably never be able to get a U.S. tourist visa as a young person. Once he is done with university and has successfully established a family and career in Ukraine, he will have a much greater chance to receive a visa. But he is in that category of applicants that is automatically rejected because of the fear that they will stay in the U.S. illegally.
The one possible opportunity for him to come to the U.S. as a young person is a State Department program called Work and Travel. Basically it is a way that foreign university students can spend the summer in the U.S., mostly working service type jobs in resorts, and supposedly travelling for a month at the end of the summer, though this privilege is excluded from the Ukrainian program, as all the universities here start at the beginning of September. And for the privilege of working his/her butt off at some crappy job, a student has to pay a minimum of $1500 plus travel expenses. I have talked to several students who have gone to the U.S. under this program—some have liked it, others have hated it. But it is a way to get a visa to the U.S. for a population that would otherwise be denied that privilege.
But here is the real kicker. They told Serdar that he might not even be able to receive a visa through that program because it is on his record that he was once denied a visa. So last year when I wanted to take him to the US with me and thought there would be no problem for him to get a visa since he would be traveling with a Peace Corps Volunteer, an assumption born out of my then ignorance of the visa process, in the end resulted in further damaging his prospects for visiting America, something he so badly wants. We have both come to accept it, an easier task for me of course, and have begun to talk about maybe doing a small trip somewhere else this summer. But ever country I look at requires a visa from a Ukrainian citizen, the only exception being Russia, Belarus, and Turkey, and perhaps some of the “Stans” (Uzbekistan, etc.). And obtaining a visa usually means two trips to the country consulate, most of whom are located in Kyiv. So an expensive hassle and always with the uncertainty of whether or not he will get a visa. It is a fact of life here that people are sort of trapped—not as much as when there was the “Iron Curtain” of course—but still, it isn’t an easy process to travel out of the country. And that fact, almost more than anything else I have encountered living here, brings home the reality of what it means to be an American in the eyes of the rest of the world. Do we really deserve this welcome, this freedom to move across borders unencumbered? Many times, I think not. But I am grateful for it.
With love from Crimea.
Friday, March 2, 2012
A trip to Moldova to get a visa
Scenes from Chisinau
On the bus.
Some of my traveling companions.
Remains of a synagogue from before the war.
Large Orthodox Christian church in the center of the city.
Snowy park in the center.
the Minnesota Twins in Moldova!
A quiet morning. Alone in the house today, a rare treat for me. I will spend the day doing a little laundry, going for a walk if it seems at all feasible given the cold and icy conditions of the roads, cooking dinner for the family, studying some Russian, and just hanging out, savoring the silence. Though I have become accustomed to living with the family—the TV on downstairs, Serdar’s music blasting out of his room, Lenura and the kids yelling back and forth—and have even come to miss it when it gets too quiet on these days of having the house to myself--I do cherish my occasional aloneness. It’s such a big change for me, this living in a family. For most of my adult life I have either lived alone or with only one other person. But I have grown to like the feeling of being part of a family. I like that both Serdar and Safie feel they can come into my room anytime and just hang out with me (I can lock the door if I want to be alone), that Lenura likes to come in and see what I’m doing and chat about different things, that Neshet and I occasionally remain sitting at the table after dinner, talking (or trying to) about Crimean Tatar life, world events, life in Uzbekistan. The hardest times I find living here are the result of my lack of understanding of the language. The other night Safie was rattling on about something to do with school and Serdar and Lenura were laughing so hard, and I didn’t have a clue what it was about. Times like that I can feel so isolated and alone, despite knowing how much they love me. I wonder if I will ever get to the level of fluency where I can understand conversations in which people are talking rapidly and (probably) using a lot of slang.
These last three weeks have been occupied by the visa registration headache. Ukraine instituted new visa laws last September, and it has created huge hassles for Peace Corps Volunteers like me who’s visas are expiring soon—basically all of the Volunteers that came in October and those Volunteers who are extending our service. The first step in the process was a trip to Chisinau, the capital of Moldova! We all had to get what is called a D visa before we could even start the registration process, and you can’t get that visa in Ukraine, you have to go out of the country to a Ukrainian consulate. Which, of course, makes little sense, but that is the law. So the Peace Corps organized bus trips for all of us to Moldova. Which could have been fun, I guess, but the trip turned into a 16-hour overnight on the bus, one night at a hotel in Chernisau, and then another 14-hour overnight on the return bus. Combined with the overnight train to and from Kyiv. Grueling is the word that comes to mind. Especially the return trip where I ended up at the back of the bus where the more partying types of the young Volunteers congregated. Finally, about 2am, I said, “are you guys ever going to sleep??” About 3, they eventually did.
Actually, I enjoyed myself in Chisinau. We had a lot of free time, waiting for the consulate to prepare our visas, and the Peace Corps gave us a generous spending allowance. I had fun walking around, checking out the city, buying presents, having a great dinner at a traditional Moldovan restaurant, perusing bookstores. The day we got back to Kyiv was not the best—exhaustion, a frustrating meeting about the steps of registration, a trip to the dentist to have a tooth pulled, and finally crashing at the hostel, waiting for Cheryl to come the next day. She had tickets to the Georgian National Ballet which was performing that night, so we had made plans to spend the weekend in Kyiv. It continued to be very cold which limited our sightseeing, but we still had a good time. Made it to the huge outdoor market there which I had never been to. Cheryl had the address of a booth that sold maps, and when we did finally locate it, what a treat it was—tons of maps from all over the world. I bought a geographical map of Central Asia that shows all the places Neshet talks about in Uzbekistan. Will definitely have to go back there my next time in Kyiv.
I arrived back in Simferopol on a Monday morning, and it feels like I have been dealing with the registration hassle ever since. After several frustrating trips to various offices with both Neshet and Nadjie, as my landlord and the site where I volunteer also had to register, I was finally told by one official that I needed to leave Ukraine and come back with a 90-day tourist visa, as there was no way that I would be able to complete all the documents before my current 45-day visa expired. Most of the Volunteers who are attempting to register are running into the same problem, and the Peace Corps in Kyiv along with the US Ambassador is pushing the Ukraine government to allow a simpler registration process for the Volunteers. And that is where it is now—in the hands of the Peace Corps office in Kyiv. I have one month to be registered, so we’ll see what happens.
More on that visa front next post—my visa and also Serdar’s attempts to once again to get a visa to the US. Love to all from cold Crimea.
On the bus.
Some of my traveling companions.
Remains of a synagogue from before the war.
Large Orthodox Christian church in the center of the city.
Snowy park in the center.
the Minnesota Twins in Moldova!
A quiet morning. Alone in the house today, a rare treat for me. I will spend the day doing a little laundry, going for a walk if it seems at all feasible given the cold and icy conditions of the roads, cooking dinner for the family, studying some Russian, and just hanging out, savoring the silence. Though I have become accustomed to living with the family—the TV on downstairs, Serdar’s music blasting out of his room, Lenura and the kids yelling back and forth—and have even come to miss it when it gets too quiet on these days of having the house to myself--I do cherish my occasional aloneness. It’s such a big change for me, this living in a family. For most of my adult life I have either lived alone or with only one other person. But I have grown to like the feeling of being part of a family. I like that both Serdar and Safie feel they can come into my room anytime and just hang out with me (I can lock the door if I want to be alone), that Lenura likes to come in and see what I’m doing and chat about different things, that Neshet and I occasionally remain sitting at the table after dinner, talking (or trying to) about Crimean Tatar life, world events, life in Uzbekistan. The hardest times I find living here are the result of my lack of understanding of the language. The other night Safie was rattling on about something to do with school and Serdar and Lenura were laughing so hard, and I didn’t have a clue what it was about. Times like that I can feel so isolated and alone, despite knowing how much they love me. I wonder if I will ever get to the level of fluency where I can understand conversations in which people are talking rapidly and (probably) using a lot of slang.
These last three weeks have been occupied by the visa registration headache. Ukraine instituted new visa laws last September, and it has created huge hassles for Peace Corps Volunteers like me who’s visas are expiring soon—basically all of the Volunteers that came in October and those Volunteers who are extending our service. The first step in the process was a trip to Chisinau, the capital of Moldova! We all had to get what is called a D visa before we could even start the registration process, and you can’t get that visa in Ukraine, you have to go out of the country to a Ukrainian consulate. Which, of course, makes little sense, but that is the law. So the Peace Corps organized bus trips for all of us to Moldova. Which could have been fun, I guess, but the trip turned into a 16-hour overnight on the bus, one night at a hotel in Chernisau, and then another 14-hour overnight on the return bus. Combined with the overnight train to and from Kyiv. Grueling is the word that comes to mind. Especially the return trip where I ended up at the back of the bus where the more partying types of the young Volunteers congregated. Finally, about 2am, I said, “are you guys ever going to sleep??” About 3, they eventually did.
Actually, I enjoyed myself in Chisinau. We had a lot of free time, waiting for the consulate to prepare our visas, and the Peace Corps gave us a generous spending allowance. I had fun walking around, checking out the city, buying presents, having a great dinner at a traditional Moldovan restaurant, perusing bookstores. The day we got back to Kyiv was not the best—exhaustion, a frustrating meeting about the steps of registration, a trip to the dentist to have a tooth pulled, and finally crashing at the hostel, waiting for Cheryl to come the next day. She had tickets to the Georgian National Ballet which was performing that night, so we had made plans to spend the weekend in Kyiv. It continued to be very cold which limited our sightseeing, but we still had a good time. Made it to the huge outdoor market there which I had never been to. Cheryl had the address of a booth that sold maps, and when we did finally locate it, what a treat it was—tons of maps from all over the world. I bought a geographical map of Central Asia that shows all the places Neshet talks about in Uzbekistan. Will definitely have to go back there my next time in Kyiv.
I arrived back in Simferopol on a Monday morning, and it feels like I have been dealing with the registration hassle ever since. After several frustrating trips to various offices with both Neshet and Nadjie, as my landlord and the site where I volunteer also had to register, I was finally told by one official that I needed to leave Ukraine and come back with a 90-day tourist visa, as there was no way that I would be able to complete all the documents before my current 45-day visa expired. Most of the Volunteers who are attempting to register are running into the same problem, and the Peace Corps in Kyiv along with the US Ambassador is pushing the Ukraine government to allow a simpler registration process for the Volunteers. And that is where it is now—in the hands of the Peace Corps office in Kyiv. I have one month to be registered, so we’ll see what happens.
More on that visa front next post—my visa and also Serdar’s attempts to once again to get a visa to the US. Love to all from cold Crimea.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Prague with Serdar
IMAGES FROM PRAGUE
Prague is as beautiful as everyone says it is. Definitely worth visiting, if old European cities is your passion. We stayed in a large hostel right in the center of the city, only a half block from the famous Astrological Clock, which has an elaborate display when it chimes the hour (with crowds of tourists in front of it taking pictures). We had a 4-bed room in the hostel, and for the first two nights, we had the room to ourselves. On our third and last night, we shared it with two young women from South America. All four floors of the hostel were filled that night, and I think maybe there were 200 people staying there—all forty years younger than me (or so it seemed). But I didn’t really care—I enjoyed some quiet time in the room after walking around all day in the intense cold. Serdar joined the nightly pub crawls, but didn’t find them as much fun as in Krakow—too many people. One night we went to a classical musical performance in a beautiful old building with wonderful acoustics. Though it was clearly a bit of a tourist trap—there were only eight musicians and just a handful of tourists in the audience—I still loved listening to the famous classical pieces being played in such an exquisite environment.
We spent our time walking around the four old quarters of Prague, exploring the castle located on a hill high above the city, strolling across the famous Charles Bridge, going to museums, checking out the incredible cathedrals, the old Jewish section, a lovely park. It really is a wonderful city to explore and just wander the winding, cobblestone streets. Unfortunately, the bone chilling cold made that not as much fun as it might have been in better weather, but it did keep the tourists crowds down. Though I was surprised at how many tourists there were, given it was the dead of winter and not a holiday. I can only imagine what it must be like in the summer, and I don’t think I would like the experience. I realized on this trip that something I had thought was true about myself is indeed true—I really am not much of a tourist in the traditional sense. I like seeing all the old historic buildings, museums, etc. but given a choice between a city and nature, I would choose nature every time. And one of the most gratifying things about the trip for me was that by the end of it, Serdar said the same thing, that he too missed spending time in nature. We tried to figure out how to do a day trip to the mountains, but it was just too far away. Though next time… that will be our first priority.
One of the things I did really love about the city aspect of this trip was the chance to eat some of the foods I miss living in Ukraine—real bagels, great coffee everywhere, Vietnamese and Chinese food, and vegetarian restaurants, one of which was across from our hostel in Prague and had kind of an all-you-could-eat happy hour. And the Czech beer wasn’t so bad either.
We reversed our transportation back—train from Prague to Poland and then plane from Poland to Kyiv. I put Serdar on an afternoon train back to Simferopol and then I went and crashed at the hostel. I spent the next three days in Kyiv at the Peace Corps office doing all the medical checkup stuff necessary for approval for extension—all okay—and then I too got on the train back to Simferopol. It was such a treat to get back home on Thursday morning and to be with the rest of the family once again.
It’s a couple of weeks later now as I write this. Despite the stresses of the cold, the visa hassles, the unknowns of traveling with Serdar, I think ultimately it served the purpose that I wanted for the trip—to give Serdar the opportunity to see life outside of his country, to meet other young people from different countries and continents, to open up his mind to worlds beyond his own. Tall order for such a short trip, I know, but it did, I think, give him a taste of different ways of living. But of course, like that old song “how do you keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen gay Paree” (which my dad used to sing about World War II), Serdar came back longing to live elsewhere and hating even more the difficulties of life in Ukraine. But, who knows, it could also have the effect of increasing his determination to make change in Ukraine. Only time will tell.
As for me, though at times in the course of the trip I wondered what the hell I was doing, in the end it brought me closer to Serdar and to my life here in Crimea.
Prague is as beautiful as everyone says it is. Definitely worth visiting, if old European cities is your passion. We stayed in a large hostel right in the center of the city, only a half block from the famous Astrological Clock, which has an elaborate display when it chimes the hour (with crowds of tourists in front of it taking pictures). We had a 4-bed room in the hostel, and for the first two nights, we had the room to ourselves. On our third and last night, we shared it with two young women from South America. All four floors of the hostel were filled that night, and I think maybe there were 200 people staying there—all forty years younger than me (or so it seemed). But I didn’t really care—I enjoyed some quiet time in the room after walking around all day in the intense cold. Serdar joined the nightly pub crawls, but didn’t find them as much fun as in Krakow—too many people. One night we went to a classical musical performance in a beautiful old building with wonderful acoustics. Though it was clearly a bit of a tourist trap—there were only eight musicians and just a handful of tourists in the audience—I still loved listening to the famous classical pieces being played in such an exquisite environment.
We spent our time walking around the four old quarters of Prague, exploring the castle located on a hill high above the city, strolling across the famous Charles Bridge, going to museums, checking out the incredible cathedrals, the old Jewish section, a lovely park. It really is a wonderful city to explore and just wander the winding, cobblestone streets. Unfortunately, the bone chilling cold made that not as much fun as it might have been in better weather, but it did keep the tourists crowds down. Though I was surprised at how many tourists there were, given it was the dead of winter and not a holiday. I can only imagine what it must be like in the summer, and I don’t think I would like the experience. I realized on this trip that something I had thought was true about myself is indeed true—I really am not much of a tourist in the traditional sense. I like seeing all the old historic buildings, museums, etc. but given a choice between a city and nature, I would choose nature every time. And one of the most gratifying things about the trip for me was that by the end of it, Serdar said the same thing, that he too missed spending time in nature. We tried to figure out how to do a day trip to the mountains, but it was just too far away. Though next time… that will be our first priority.
One of the things I did really love about the city aspect of this trip was the chance to eat some of the foods I miss living in Ukraine—real bagels, great coffee everywhere, Vietnamese and Chinese food, and vegetarian restaurants, one of which was across from our hostel in Prague and had kind of an all-you-could-eat happy hour. And the Czech beer wasn’t so bad either.
We reversed our transportation back—train from Prague to Poland and then plane from Poland to Kyiv. I put Serdar on an afternoon train back to Simferopol and then I went and crashed at the hostel. I spent the next three days in Kyiv at the Peace Corps office doing all the medical checkup stuff necessary for approval for extension—all okay—and then I too got on the train back to Simferopol. It was such a treat to get back home on Thursday morning and to be with the rest of the family once again.
It’s a couple of weeks later now as I write this. Despite the stresses of the cold, the visa hassles, the unknowns of traveling with Serdar, I think ultimately it served the purpose that I wanted for the trip—to give Serdar the opportunity to see life outside of his country, to meet other young people from different countries and continents, to open up his mind to worlds beyond his own. Tall order for such a short trip, I know, but it did, I think, give him a taste of different ways of living. But of course, like that old song “how do you keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen gay Paree” (which my dad used to sing about World War II), Serdar came back longing to live elsewhere and hating even more the difficulties of life in Ukraine. But, who knows, it could also have the effect of increasing his determination to make change in Ukraine. Only time will tell.
As for me, though at times in the course of the trip I wondered what the hell I was doing, in the end it brought me closer to Serdar and to my life here in Crimea.
Monday, February 13, 2012
The winter cold and Krakow with Serdar
IMAGES FROM KRAKOW
Monday morning, alone in the house. Having a day to myself before taking off tonight on the second stage of my three weeks of traveling. It is such a treat to have the house to myself—doesn’t happen all that often.
So—Krakow, Prague, traveling with Serdar, the weather, Kyiv, visa hassles. So much seems to have happened in a short period of time. All of the events of the past two weeks are permeated by one significant factor—the impact of the severe cold. It has made traveling difficult in many ways and is the topic everywhere as Europe, and especially Eastern Europe, suffers under a continual deep freeze. Down here in Crimea the infrastructure is just not equipped to deal with winter weather like this. The deep snows in eastern Crimea remained unplowed from the lack of snow removal equipment, many villages—such as Lenura’s parents—do not have electricity, heating systems are inadequate, and water pipes are unprotected so many people are without water, including us in the evenings. Luckily, our house is toasty warm with the exception of my room which is the coldest in the house because of where it is located. I have to bundle up in blankets to hang out in there. But that isn’t much of a hardship—I spend much of my time downstairs, which is where I am now.
The trip with Serdar was hard on many levels and great on many levels. It started with our overnight train trip up to Kyiv, arriving early in the morning and then off to the hostel where we were staying the night. The hostel was filled with Peace Corps Volunteers returning from a language refresher course, and Serdar immediately took up with them and went off to a café for bagels. One of my few PC friends happened to be at the hostel too, so we did a little sightseeing together. Serdar meanwhile went off on his own, wandering around the city, and eventually all of us met up for dinner. He spent the evening sharing a beer with the owner of the hostel—a good beginning to what I hoped would be a world-opening experience for him.
We took a taxi early the next morning (4am!) out to the airport for our hour flight to Katowice, Poland, which is about a 90 minute bus ride from Krakow. We were flying a discount Hungarian airline called Wizzair, and that is the closest city they flew into. Despite Serdar having a passport and his Shengen visa (which allows entrance to all the EU countries except the British Isles), we were both nervous about the fact that his last name on his passport is spelled different than on his plane ticket. I bought the ticket before he got his passport, and as apparently happens often, his name ended up being spelled differently on the passport because of the Russian/Ukrainian translation into English. “y” becomes “I”, a double “I” appeared. A fellow train passenger thought it was going to be a big problem, the owner of the hostel thought not. And then there was also just the stress of the border guards at Poland checking his passport, etc. This is his first time of travelling internationally and neither of us knew what to expect. I kept reassuring him that all would be okay, but my reassurances didn’t do a lot to reduce our anxiety. But all went well, and we both breathed a huge sigh of relief as we finally walked out of the airport in Poland into a new world for Serdar.
We were both exhausted, cold, hungry, and thus cranky, by the time we got to Krakow. We were immediately greeted by a huge indoor mall, very much like you would find in America. Quite strange. But we eventually found our way to the other side and exited out into old Krakow and made out way to the hostel. A word about hostels—they are great for young people, as it is a chance to meet fellow, mostly student, travelers, but for old folks like me, well… I find them a bit trying. I was very glad for Serdar and knew it was the right choice as I saw him immediately engage with the South American, European, and Australian young people staying at the hostel, but for me, I became somewhat lonely for people closer to my age that I could talk with. There is also the party aspect to hostels—in many hostels every night there are organized pub crawls, or beer/vodka tastings, or whatever the local flavor is. Having just turned legal drinking age, these were great opportunities for Serdar (as he saw it) to party with other young people. Eventually I saw it as an opportunity for me to have some time to myself, so I guess ultimately it worked out. Though I told Serdar that maybe next time we travel together, I will drop him off at a hostel and go stay at a B-and-B.
Krakow was a wonderful city to visit. I wish we had had more time there and that it wasn’t so cold to walk around. We spent three full days there, leaving the third night on an overnight train to Prague. The first day we wandered around on our own, the second day we went on a guided three-hour walking tour of the city, the third day we went on a guided bus excursion to Auschwitz and Birkenau, about an hour from Krakow. I had had many reservations about going to Auschwitz, especially once I arrived in Krakow and saw what a tourist industry it had become—everywhere there were signs advertising tours to Auschwitz. I also had read the comments of the founder of the local Jewish museum who feels that the government needed to shut down the tours to Auschwitz and just let people go there on their own with no cameras and no cell phones. But if it was something Serdar would want to do, then I definitely would go—Ukrainian students seem to learn so little about the Holocaust and of course, Auschwitz is the most famous site. So we ended up going, and I am glad we did. Though the tour was rushed for me--I would definitely have liked to linger longer at some places-- I think the experience was, ultimately, a profound one. Especially being in the vastness of the Birkenau camp--standing on the railroad tracks that brought the train cars of people to their deaths, feeling the frigid wind that people had to endure with little clothing, seeing the dilapidated barracks and wooden plank bunks where people slept six to a bunk, and the long rows of concrete latrines, and trying to imagine being there amongst 100,000 people who had lost their homes, families, loved ones, everything….I felt both a deep sadness that human beings could bring this kind of suffering onto their fellow humans and also amazement that anyone survived these conditions. And perhaps a little deeper understanding of the human spirit.
On to our visit to Prague in my next post.
Monday morning, alone in the house. Having a day to myself before taking off tonight on the second stage of my three weeks of traveling. It is such a treat to have the house to myself—doesn’t happen all that often.
So—Krakow, Prague, traveling with Serdar, the weather, Kyiv, visa hassles. So much seems to have happened in a short period of time. All of the events of the past two weeks are permeated by one significant factor—the impact of the severe cold. It has made traveling difficult in many ways and is the topic everywhere as Europe, and especially Eastern Europe, suffers under a continual deep freeze. Down here in Crimea the infrastructure is just not equipped to deal with winter weather like this. The deep snows in eastern Crimea remained unplowed from the lack of snow removal equipment, many villages—such as Lenura’s parents—do not have electricity, heating systems are inadequate, and water pipes are unprotected so many people are without water, including us in the evenings. Luckily, our house is toasty warm with the exception of my room which is the coldest in the house because of where it is located. I have to bundle up in blankets to hang out in there. But that isn’t much of a hardship—I spend much of my time downstairs, which is where I am now.
The trip with Serdar was hard on many levels and great on many levels. It started with our overnight train trip up to Kyiv, arriving early in the morning and then off to the hostel where we were staying the night. The hostel was filled with Peace Corps Volunteers returning from a language refresher course, and Serdar immediately took up with them and went off to a café for bagels. One of my few PC friends happened to be at the hostel too, so we did a little sightseeing together. Serdar meanwhile went off on his own, wandering around the city, and eventually all of us met up for dinner. He spent the evening sharing a beer with the owner of the hostel—a good beginning to what I hoped would be a world-opening experience for him.
We took a taxi early the next morning (4am!) out to the airport for our hour flight to Katowice, Poland, which is about a 90 minute bus ride from Krakow. We were flying a discount Hungarian airline called Wizzair, and that is the closest city they flew into. Despite Serdar having a passport and his Shengen visa (which allows entrance to all the EU countries except the British Isles), we were both nervous about the fact that his last name on his passport is spelled different than on his plane ticket. I bought the ticket before he got his passport, and as apparently happens often, his name ended up being spelled differently on the passport because of the Russian/Ukrainian translation into English. “y” becomes “I”, a double “I” appeared. A fellow train passenger thought it was going to be a big problem, the owner of the hostel thought not. And then there was also just the stress of the border guards at Poland checking his passport, etc. This is his first time of travelling internationally and neither of us knew what to expect. I kept reassuring him that all would be okay, but my reassurances didn’t do a lot to reduce our anxiety. But all went well, and we both breathed a huge sigh of relief as we finally walked out of the airport in Poland into a new world for Serdar.
We were both exhausted, cold, hungry, and thus cranky, by the time we got to Krakow. We were immediately greeted by a huge indoor mall, very much like you would find in America. Quite strange. But we eventually found our way to the other side and exited out into old Krakow and made out way to the hostel. A word about hostels—they are great for young people, as it is a chance to meet fellow, mostly student, travelers, but for old folks like me, well… I find them a bit trying. I was very glad for Serdar and knew it was the right choice as I saw him immediately engage with the South American, European, and Australian young people staying at the hostel, but for me, I became somewhat lonely for people closer to my age that I could talk with. There is also the party aspect to hostels—in many hostels every night there are organized pub crawls, or beer/vodka tastings, or whatever the local flavor is. Having just turned legal drinking age, these were great opportunities for Serdar (as he saw it) to party with other young people. Eventually I saw it as an opportunity for me to have some time to myself, so I guess ultimately it worked out. Though I told Serdar that maybe next time we travel together, I will drop him off at a hostel and go stay at a B-and-B.
Krakow was a wonderful city to visit. I wish we had had more time there and that it wasn’t so cold to walk around. We spent three full days there, leaving the third night on an overnight train to Prague. The first day we wandered around on our own, the second day we went on a guided three-hour walking tour of the city, the third day we went on a guided bus excursion to Auschwitz and Birkenau, about an hour from Krakow. I had had many reservations about going to Auschwitz, especially once I arrived in Krakow and saw what a tourist industry it had become—everywhere there were signs advertising tours to Auschwitz. I also had read the comments of the founder of the local Jewish museum who feels that the government needed to shut down the tours to Auschwitz and just let people go there on their own with no cameras and no cell phones. But if it was something Serdar would want to do, then I definitely would go—Ukrainian students seem to learn so little about the Holocaust and of course, Auschwitz is the most famous site. So we ended up going, and I am glad we did. Though the tour was rushed for me--I would definitely have liked to linger longer at some places-- I think the experience was, ultimately, a profound one. Especially being in the vastness of the Birkenau camp--standing on the railroad tracks that brought the train cars of people to their deaths, feeling the frigid wind that people had to endure with little clothing, seeing the dilapidated barracks and wooden plank bunks where people slept six to a bunk, and the long rows of concrete latrines, and trying to imagine being there amongst 100,000 people who had lost their homes, families, loved ones, everything….I felt both a deep sadness that human beings could bring this kind of suffering onto their fellow humans and also amazement that anyone survived these conditions. And perhaps a little deeper understanding of the human spirit.
On to our visit to Prague in my next post.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
A bit of winter blues
It’s Monday at the library, my last week of work for a while. Friday I take off with Serdar on our much anticipated week-long trip to Krakow and Prague. We will be taking the overnight train to Kyiv, spending the day there, and then catching an early morning flight to Poland. We will return to Kyiv the following Sunday, and Serdar will take the overnight train back to Simferopol, but I will stay in Kyiv for a few days to have my medical exam for extension clearance. I won’t be back to Simferopol until Thursday and then the following Monday have to leave again for a week to go to Moldova to get my Ukrainian visa (!)
I spent some of the weekend finishing the draft proposal for a Peace Corps grant that was due today. Most of my library time last week was devoted to writing the grant, which made me happy. I like having meaningful work to do; what I don’t like is feeling at loose ends and even more than that, feeling frustrated at the slowness of which things get done around there, which seems to be my major focus of angst lately. Of course, I understand that is a fact of how things seem to operate in Ukraine and probably everywhere in the post-Soviet world, but it’s hard not to be overwhelmed with frustration and ultimately, a feeling of hopelessness that anything will ever really change. But as is true of much of my life here, it becomes an occasion for “practice,” in the Buddhist sense. The practice of patience, of trust that it will eventually happen (and all my experience has shown that to be true), and the necessity of trying to stay open to whatever comes up, to step out of the framework of my culture and realize that perhaps there are other ways of doing things. That is, after all, one of my main reasons for joining the Peace Corps—to experience in a much deeper way life in another part of the world.
I don’t really have much to report in the way of activities these past couple of weeks. The hike I referred to in my last blog post never materialized, due to bad weather, nor did it happen the following weekend like we had hoped, also due to bad weather. Though today is sunny and kind of warm, for the most part the weather has been Crimea winter—cold wind, some snow, grey skies. Not conducive to outdoor activities. I do continue to go for walks from home up in the bluffs, and recently was up there right after a snowstorm and it was so lovely with the soft snow clinging to the trees all around me. But extended hikes haven’t been a possibility. We can only wait for spring and the return of the light and warmth.
My lack of trekking around has meant that I have spent more time at home, more time with the family. I especially like Sundays when often everyone is around, doing their own thing but gathering for meals. It’s a nice feeling, being part of a circle of people living together.
I will have much to write about in my next blog post, I imagine. Until then, love to all of you from your pal in Crimea.
I spent some of the weekend finishing the draft proposal for a Peace Corps grant that was due today. Most of my library time last week was devoted to writing the grant, which made me happy. I like having meaningful work to do; what I don’t like is feeling at loose ends and even more than that, feeling frustrated at the slowness of which things get done around there, which seems to be my major focus of angst lately. Of course, I understand that is a fact of how things seem to operate in Ukraine and probably everywhere in the post-Soviet world, but it’s hard not to be overwhelmed with frustration and ultimately, a feeling of hopelessness that anything will ever really change. But as is true of much of my life here, it becomes an occasion for “practice,” in the Buddhist sense. The practice of patience, of trust that it will eventually happen (and all my experience has shown that to be true), and the necessity of trying to stay open to whatever comes up, to step out of the framework of my culture and realize that perhaps there are other ways of doing things. That is, after all, one of my main reasons for joining the Peace Corps—to experience in a much deeper way life in another part of the world.
I don’t really have much to report in the way of activities these past couple of weeks. The hike I referred to in my last blog post never materialized, due to bad weather, nor did it happen the following weekend like we had hoped, also due to bad weather. Though today is sunny and kind of warm, for the most part the weather has been Crimea winter—cold wind, some snow, grey skies. Not conducive to outdoor activities. I do continue to go for walks from home up in the bluffs, and recently was up there right after a snowstorm and it was so lovely with the soft snow clinging to the trees all around me. But extended hikes haven’t been a possibility. We can only wait for spring and the return of the light and warmth.
My lack of trekking around has meant that I have spent more time at home, more time with the family. I especially like Sundays when often everyone is around, doing their own thing but gathering for meals. It’s a nice feeling, being part of a circle of people living together.
I will have much to write about in my next blog post, I imagine. Until then, love to all of you from your pal in Crimea.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
New Year's 2012 and work at the library
Thursday afternoon at the library, just finished up a blog post on New Year’s food for my friend’s blog about Ukrainian food—the Pickle Project. Here's the link:
http://pickleproject.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-feast-from-crimea.html
Nadjie and I have a grant proposal due in a couple of weeks, but she is immersed (as is everyone here) in producing some kind of end-of-the-year report for the Ministry of Culture, the government entity that the library functions under. Today we did go visit an organization for the visually impaired that we are hoping to partner with for our grant (the idea being to make the library accessible for visually impaired people). The organization does impressive work—they have a large factory that employs 700 blind and partially blind people, producing mostly small electrical parts, like extensions cords, plugs, etc. (which I have since found out from Neshet that this is a Soviet tradition.) Because of the holiday season, the people weren’t at work, so it was hard to get a true sense of the working conditions. But the large hall was spacious and full of light from the big windows, and even had air conditioning—a rarity in Ukraine. Disabled people here are referred to as “invalids,” and are immensely discriminated against. Almost no buildings are accessible for wheelchairs—including the large new library where I have my English Club, hospitals (!), and the airport. Perhaps a workshop such as the one at this organization would not be considered that wonderful back in the States, but here it provides a much needed opportunity for visually impaired people to have a productive life.
I enjoyed meeting the people and seeing the grounds, but as usual, my Russian only allowed me limited knowledge of what was being discussed. I left with no information on exactly how, or even if, we are going to partner with the organization for this grant, a grant that basically I have to write. Nadjie will do the initial writing in Russian, but then I need to take what comes through in the translation program and turn it into something that will be acceptable to the very demanding Peace Corps requirements. A time consuming process, thus my impatience with our lack of work on it.
And once again, I felt that deep longing to be working somewhere that I can understand what is going on, that I can contribute more to the daily process, to the formation of ideas and the creative process that goes with it. Burnt out on this whole experience of trying to work in such a fog--that is what I am afraid I am feeling--and I wonder what it means for the thoughts I have to remain here for a while. Maybe I just need a break for a bit, and that should happen soon with my trip to Krakow and Prague with Serdar that is coming up in a few weeks.
So I’ll not dwell on it here in this blog post, but go on to happier topics—like the various New Year’s celebrations of the weekend. I think the most fun for me was spending New Year’s Eve day cooking with Lenura (what we cooked is what that Pickle Project blog post is about). And then there was, of course, eating all that fabulous food. And opening our presents. Present giving is not like the States—usually it is just one small present for each person, sometimes just a souvenir of sorts or candy. This year I gave Serdar a little leather notebook, Safie an embroidered pouch for her telephone from the Crimean Tatar museum, and for Lenura and Neshet, a wood trivet from the Frank Lloyd Wright Museum in Chicago that I had purchased when I was there last summer. They gave me a pair of pajamas—hooray, I really needed some new pajamas! Which I guess must have been obvious…
Neshet took off to visit some friend who was here from Moscow and his sister who lives next door came over for a visit. We watched the New Year festivities on TV and then at 5 minutes to midnight, the president of Ukraine gave his annual welcome- to-the-new-year message (a Soviet tradition), which, since they all basically hate him, was pretty much ignored. At midnight the fireworks began—everywhere you looked in the sky big fireworks were going off—in the neighborhood and in the distance in the city center. It was quite the show.
We all went to bed late and slept in. New Year’s Day is typically a time when relatives and neighbors visit. Lenura’s cousin and family came to the house, as did several neighbors, and I went over and visited my old landlords. The following day we drove to Lenura’s parent’s village for a brief New Year’s gathering. It was great to see Lilye and Ablumet, as always. I really do like them so much, and slowly I feel I am able to talk with them a bit more as my Russian understanding improves. I just wish they didn’t live so far away. Maybe I’ll try to go back on my own to visit them, something they are always telling me to do.
It’s Saturday afternoon now (January 7th), which is actually Christmas in Ukraine--I just now remembered that. My family being Muslim, of course it is not an occasion for them, but it is a government holiday and thus we once again have a three-day weekend. The weather has been unusually warm here, so Cheryl and I are talking about taking off for a hike somewhere tomorrow.
Neshet and Serdar are working away on the staircase. The house is a definitely a work-in-progress, and I never know what the motivation is, but once in a while Neshet just starts working on finishing something. The underlying structure of the steps, for instance, have been built for as long as I have been here, and apparently he has had the materials to finish them for quite some time. The whole house is pretty much like that, a fact that continually frustrates Lenura. However, I can relate, because I remember how my house in Minneapolis was also in one of those states of continual construction. I think some projects never got finished!
That’s it for now. Maybe I will have some adventures to report from my hike tomorrow. Much love from
Crimea.
Lenura's presents her stuffed fish.
The New Year's Eve table.
In front of the New Year's tree with my present.
Neshet's sister, Anara, with the kids.
Lenura and her father, Ablumet.
http://pickleproject.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-feast-from-crimea.html
Nadjie and I have a grant proposal due in a couple of weeks, but she is immersed (as is everyone here) in producing some kind of end-of-the-year report for the Ministry of Culture, the government entity that the library functions under. Today we did go visit an organization for the visually impaired that we are hoping to partner with for our grant (the idea being to make the library accessible for visually impaired people). The organization does impressive work—they have a large factory that employs 700 blind and partially blind people, producing mostly small electrical parts, like extensions cords, plugs, etc. (which I have since found out from Neshet that this is a Soviet tradition.) Because of the holiday season, the people weren’t at work, so it was hard to get a true sense of the working conditions. But the large hall was spacious and full of light from the big windows, and even had air conditioning—a rarity in Ukraine. Disabled people here are referred to as “invalids,” and are immensely discriminated against. Almost no buildings are accessible for wheelchairs—including the large new library where I have my English Club, hospitals (!), and the airport. Perhaps a workshop such as the one at this organization would not be considered that wonderful back in the States, but here it provides a much needed opportunity for visually impaired people to have a productive life.
I enjoyed meeting the people and seeing the grounds, but as usual, my Russian only allowed me limited knowledge of what was being discussed. I left with no information on exactly how, or even if, we are going to partner with the organization for this grant, a grant that basically I have to write. Nadjie will do the initial writing in Russian, but then I need to take what comes through in the translation program and turn it into something that will be acceptable to the very demanding Peace Corps requirements. A time consuming process, thus my impatience with our lack of work on it.
And once again, I felt that deep longing to be working somewhere that I can understand what is going on, that I can contribute more to the daily process, to the formation of ideas and the creative process that goes with it. Burnt out on this whole experience of trying to work in such a fog--that is what I am afraid I am feeling--and I wonder what it means for the thoughts I have to remain here for a while. Maybe I just need a break for a bit, and that should happen soon with my trip to Krakow and Prague with Serdar that is coming up in a few weeks.
So I’ll not dwell on it here in this blog post, but go on to happier topics—like the various New Year’s celebrations of the weekend. I think the most fun for me was spending New Year’s Eve day cooking with Lenura (what we cooked is what that Pickle Project blog post is about). And then there was, of course, eating all that fabulous food. And opening our presents. Present giving is not like the States—usually it is just one small present for each person, sometimes just a souvenir of sorts or candy. This year I gave Serdar a little leather notebook, Safie an embroidered pouch for her telephone from the Crimean Tatar museum, and for Lenura and Neshet, a wood trivet from the Frank Lloyd Wright Museum in Chicago that I had purchased when I was there last summer. They gave me a pair of pajamas—hooray, I really needed some new pajamas! Which I guess must have been obvious…
Neshet took off to visit some friend who was here from Moscow and his sister who lives next door came over for a visit. We watched the New Year festivities on TV and then at 5 minutes to midnight, the president of Ukraine gave his annual welcome- to-the-new-year message (a Soviet tradition), which, since they all basically hate him, was pretty much ignored. At midnight the fireworks began—everywhere you looked in the sky big fireworks were going off—in the neighborhood and in the distance in the city center. It was quite the show.
We all went to bed late and slept in. New Year’s Day is typically a time when relatives and neighbors visit. Lenura’s cousin and family came to the house, as did several neighbors, and I went over and visited my old landlords. The following day we drove to Lenura’s parent’s village for a brief New Year’s gathering. It was great to see Lilye and Ablumet, as always. I really do like them so much, and slowly I feel I am able to talk with them a bit more as my Russian understanding improves. I just wish they didn’t live so far away. Maybe I’ll try to go back on my own to visit them, something they are always telling me to do.
It’s Saturday afternoon now (January 7th), which is actually Christmas in Ukraine--I just now remembered that. My family being Muslim, of course it is not an occasion for them, but it is a government holiday and thus we once again have a three-day weekend. The weather has been unusually warm here, so Cheryl and I are talking about taking off for a hike somewhere tomorrow.
Neshet and Serdar are working away on the staircase. The house is a definitely a work-in-progress, and I never know what the motivation is, but once in a while Neshet just starts working on finishing something. The underlying structure of the steps, for instance, have been built for as long as I have been here, and apparently he has had the materials to finish them for quite some time. The whole house is pretty much like that, a fact that continually frustrates Lenura. However, I can relate, because I remember how my house in Minneapolis was also in one of those states of continual construction. I think some projects never got finished!
That’s it for now. Maybe I will have some adventures to report from my hike tomorrow. Much love from
Crimea.
Lenura's presents her stuffed fish.
The New Year's Eve table.
In front of the New Year's tree with my present.
Neshet's sister, Anara, with the kids.
Lenura and her father, Ablumet.
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