Wow.

I just wrote about spy shows yesterday, and then today, my family went to see Salt, starring Angelina Jolie. It was a very intense spy movie, and Angelina Jolie has to speak a lot of Russian. There is actually quite a lot of English subtitle action going on.

Y'all. She speaks really good Russian! Her accent, her intonation, the way her face moves as she pronounces the words...

I'm so jealous of her skills.

Spy shows love Russian

I've always loved spy movies and tv shows. One of my very favorites is Burn Notice. Before moving to Ukraine, I always thought that when the spies spoke Russian, it was the coolest. Once I started "studying" Russian, I decided it wasn't quite as cool as I had originally thought. It's extremely difficult and native Russian speakers tend to be REALLY critical of your lack of skill. Some days, Russian and I got along: I was able to make people understand me, and they didn't even look at me like I was an idiot. Other days, though, Russian was what gave me a migraine and had me wanting to beat my head against the wall. I took a lot of Advil during my 2 years.

However, now that I'm back, I'm very much enjoying listening to tv Russian speakers use Russian. Some people actually sound like they're speaking Russian- their intonation, pronunciation, speed at which they talk. Some, though, sound like they merely memorized a bunch of syllables and tried to string them together, which may very much be what I sounded like at the beginning...

Now, I feel like such a pro. A pro who can laugh with glee at those who don't know how to pronounce Russian phrases. Victory!

Fill 'er up!

I've been thinking recently about the things that I am filling up more often now and the things I'm not filling up as much any more. What am I talking about, you may ask?

*Since I'm no longer taking public transportation, I'm now filling up the car with gasoline on a regular basis. Did NOT miss that...

*I'm NOT constantly filling up my wallet with cash. I'm back in the land of debit cards, so my stash of on-hand cash is considerably less. I sort of liked paying for everything in cash because you could always see what you were spending. However, I don't love having lots of it on me. I feel like the target painted on me is much smaller.

*I'm filling up my piggy bank with coins once again. I really love to fill my piggy bank up with loose change throughout the year, roll the coins at Christmas, and deposit all of that at the end of the year. There wasn't so much of that going on in Ukraine, and I really missed it. I was always scraping up the tiny coins to pay bus fares with...and getting dirty looks from the money collectors.

*I'm filling up my laundry basket more frequently. In Ukraine, doing laundry took much, much longer, so I'd wear clothes a lot longer than you'd ever want to know between washes. Here, the laundry takes so much less time, and I can dry them in a dryer! I really missed having a dryer, I'm realizing.

*Remarkably, I'm STILL filling up suitcases, seeing as how I'm about to make another major move. I've been kind of living in and out of suitcases. I'm sort of ready to retire them for a while.

*I'm not filling up my head with more Russian words, but I am practicing them in my head so as not to lose what I have.

I'm sure I'll think of more. Maybe I should have titled this with a "Part 1" caveat...

Bathroom humor

Every single time that I enter a bathroom in America, I am struck with the differences between using the bathroom facilities in Ukraine and using the bathroom facilities in the States. I just can't help but laugh! First of all, I keep trying to turn the light on from the outside of the bathroom; in Ukraine, the light switches are almost always on the outside of the door. Sounds crazy at first, but it actually makes a lot of sense: you turn the light on before you enter the room. The down side is that jokers can turn the light off on you while you are taking care of things.

Secondly, general bathroom upkeep in public bathrooms is vastly different. Remarkably so.

Thirdly, you never have to pay to use public bathrooms in the States. Public restrooms in Ukraine (Europe in general, really) require a small fee. This usually causes the American user to scratch his or her head, given the general upkeep (or lack thereof) that he or she may encounter. This cost also covers the toilet paper to be used. I learned very early on that it is most prudent to carry tissues/toilet paper with me everywhere. Most stalls have nothing in them. It is zero fun to find yourself using an...um...unconventional kind of toilet AND have no toilet paper. Oi.

Fourthly: the toilets themselves. That's right- most public restrooms in Ukraine are not western-style (sit-on-able) toilets but rather what many call "squatty potties." I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.

All that to say, just using public restrooms is an adventure in itself!

Underwear and a toothbrush

In 2009, two semester-long workers worked and lived with me in Poltava- Hannah and Rachel. We traveled to Dnepropetrovsk a couple of times to visit with my supervisors. One weekend, we were planning to go for 4 days and each packed in only 1 backpack and a purse per person. In the winter, no less! We were really proud of our packing skills. However, we got ragged on by one of our Ukrainian friends for taking "so much stuff." Seriously?

So, we started joking about how our local friends would probably pack up for the 4 days by putting a pair of underwear and a toothbrush in a purse. We weren't too far off-base, by the way. They are skilled at minimalist packing.

I realized that this tendency has started to rub off on me; 2 days ago, mom, Amiee, and I needed to go to my Granddaddy's for just one night. I halfway filled a tote that was barely larger than my purse and had more than I even needed to use.

The crazy part is that I had to run by Target...because I forgot my toothbrush.

Drafts

I have a vivid memory of one of my first few weeks in Ukraine, wherein I balked at a Ukrainian medical belief. I was walking with a new friend, and it was rather blustery outside. I had slept funny on my mattress the night before and had a sore back, which I was occasionally wincing about and rubbing. My friend noticed and asked me what was wrong. I told her that my back was sore from sleeping funny. She informed me that it was more likely that I had accidentally stood in a draft and that the wind had cut through and torn my muscle.

I tried not to laugh out loud.

Following that first exposure, I learned that this was a common belief: drafts, air conditioners, and fans blowing directly at you are considered to be a threat to your health. Any illness you get during the winter can probably be traced to a draft/(perceived) inadequate clothing for the elements. I always sort of rolled my eyes at this.

Until I got home.

I'm not sure if I've just adapted to Ukrainian thinking or what, but all the air conditioners here in the deep South are causing me to wear jeans everywhere, AND I've had a cold-turned-sinus-infection ever since I got home. I shiver in our living room and sleep under a pile of blankets at night.

So the question is, just how crazy is that Ukrainian theory?

Line dancing

Don't be fooled by the title of this post: there's no dancing going on. This is just a term my mom coined after visiting Ukraine the first time. Lines in Ukraine are WAY different than lines in the States.

By "lines," I mean lines that you stand in. I think the Queen's word for that is a "queue." Anyone visiting Ukraine can get "line orientation" right off the plane: passport control. It can take ages to get through that line. You learn very quickly that lines don't really exist. Everyone kind of crowds in, pushes, scoots, schemes, shuffles, and does his or her very best to get to the front. It's very frustrating at first. Most first-time visiting Americans can't figure out why they've been standing in line for so long without progressing forward. Ukrainians are very good at line dancing.

In addition to that form of lining up, there's another; often, there's a line that you can't see. An example would be in the post office. You may walk in and see people sitting, leaning against the wall, or just milling about, giving the appearance that there is no line. Wrong. You have to ask where the end of the line is because there is already a list of people waiting their turns- they've just chosen not to do the actual standing in line part. That was an awkward cultural lesson to learn. Talk about people getting feisty...

So, if you can't settle a situation by asking where the end of the line is, you have to learn how to line dance. This is important because people are cutters and will brazenly jump in front of you in line or push you so that you're not in prime position to speak to the clerk/cashier/government official. Some of my tips? Stand like an offensive lineman. In as subtle a way as possible, hold your elbows out from your body- a) making you appear bigger and b) providing pokey reminders that line cutters will have a slight obstacle. A trick I picked up from Ukrainian girls? Carry a big purse and position it awkwardly so that line cutters have a large obstacle in the way.

These tips are especially helpful if you find yourself in one of those lines (which would be often) that doesn't form a vertical column but rather a lateral clumping of people who want something. This is where you really have to maintain your position while working to gain ground. It's no small matter, either, y'all.

What does all of this mean? It translates into me standing way too close to people in line at Bed, Bath & Beyond (because I've been conditioned to get as close as possible to maintain my position) and thinking that a "long line" of 4 people is nothing; if I can get through in less than 15 minutes, I'm a happy camper.

Shocking statement of the day (spoken by a cashier to my mom, after she'd been behind 2 women in line): "I'm so sorry for your wait in line, ma'am."

HA! I almost have no way to mentally process that one.

New Concept: Customer Service

One of my first weeks in Poltava, I was asked to be one of the guest judges for an English presentation competition at one of the universities in town. It was really quite fun, and the students did a great job. Some of them had been to the States and some had been to other places in Europe.

My favorite part of the whole presentation was when two girls who had done a work and travel program in New England included as part of their presentation that they had learned about a new concept while in the States: customer service. They then proceeded to explain what the term "customer service" meant. I kind of chuckled to myself that such a thing would need to be explained.

After a mere week or so, I understood why they had explained it.

Our American idea of customer service is vastly different from the Ukrainian concept. I learned very quickly that salesmen/women won't come up to you and ask if they can help you or what you're looking for. Half the time, they snap at you, as if you have totally disrupted their day, if you ask for help. The language difference presented me with two different kinds of responses: a) you poor thing- let me do everything for you or b) yelling louder and angrier so that I'll get the point.

I somewhat adjusted to this facet of culture. I mean, people weren't going to be overly friendly, and if you need help, you have to be aggressive and have tough skin (neither of those qualities particularly describe me, so that took a little while to adjust to). I never really dreamed that I'd have to REVERSE adjust when I got back to Alabama! Every store I've been in, people have offered to help me, asked if I'm finding things alright, and made chitchat with me at the check-out. I have to confess, I was a little overwhelmed and didn't know how to handle it very well. Part of my brain started to think, "Wow, they are so interfering in my life." I had to catch myself and give myself a stern talking-to about how they were being polite and that I have to discard my loner shopping tendencies and meld into my current culture.

It was shocking, y'all.

TB tests

Today, I had my third TB test in a 2-year span. First of all, I HATE TB tests. They kind of unnerve me with the weird bubble that shows up. Secondly, I've read too many old books about "consumption" not to feel weird about tuberculosis. As soon as I think about it, I start feeling a cough coming on...

The first two of my three skin tests were because the company I worked for required them. Today's TB test was because of these cute little ones:

Along with the Rowlands, David, Nathan, Mindy, Amiee, Mom, and Kat, I worked for many weeks with the kids that stayed at a children's hospital for kids recovering for tuberculosis. None of the children we worked with directly were seriously ill with TB and some of them didn't have the disease at all. However, because there were plenty of kids in and out of there who had carried the disease, all of us were exposed. Ergo, the third TB test.

Despite how much I hate TB tests, I'm so glad and thankful that I've had the experiences that required the tests. :)

Wait...there's only one sermon?

My very first Sunday in Ukraine was quite an overwhelming experience; a day and a half after arriving in Dnepropetrovsk, the Rays and I left their house at 6:45 am, drove 2 hours to a different city, and participated in a 5-hour church dedication service. I remember thinking that I would never adjust to church in Ukraine.

A normal service at my church in Poltava lasted for a little over 2 hours and usually had 2 sermons (one minor and one major). I used to get really antsy after 45 minutes and had to remind myself to act like a grown-up and not squirm. By my last Sunday, however, I remember thinking that the 2 hours and 15 minutes had FLOWN by. Had they perhaps cut out some part of the service?

Yesterday was my first Sunday service back as a full-fledged American resident. The singing part consisted of only about 4 songs (the choruses of which we did not sing 6 times) and the sermon was about 30 minutes long. AND it was was in English. Seriously? It seemed as though I blinked and it was over.

I was also taken aback by the orchestra, the announcements made via video, all of the available programs and ministries found on the pages of the tri-fold bulletin... It was rather overwhelming. I have to confess that my senses were so overwhelmed that I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible so that maybe people wouldn't notice me and I could just work on coping with the surroundings. That plan didn't go so well, but that's ok. It was nice to see friends.

I realized that I miss singing songs in Russian and that there's something about sweating to death in 90-something heat with no AC that makes your worship experience meaningful. On the flip side, I remembered how nice it is not to have to fight with your brain to understand the meaning of the message.

Such an experience.

Back in America

I'm back in America now and experiencing the phenomenon of readjusting to one's home culture. Reverse culture shock, if you will. I thought I'd chronicle it for y'all here, because so far, it's pretty amusing. Thanks for keeping up with me so well while I was in Ukraine. Hopefully, you'll find plenty to chuckle at now, as well. Happy reading!