Taste of Tree

So ti is getting to be spring. I see clouds only about once a week instead of seeing the sun only about once a week. Flowers are busting out in white, yellow, purple, pink and blue all over the forest floor which is increasingly green. And at the base of all of these trees there are old soda bottles and water bottles with the tops cut off propped up against them. Because they are birch trees and the bottles are being filled with birch juice. You can get the juice to run into the bottle by inserting a piece of metal in the shape of a "V" into the trunk of the tree. The juice straight from the tree tastes like very minerally water. However, people usually boil it with lemon, sugar and sometimes berries. It is sealed into jars and enjoyed all year round.
And yesterday on a cool but gorgeous day we drank some straight from the tree at our weekly bbq in the forest. And I said it was "taste of tree" which is a play on an ad slogan here.
It feels so nice to be enjoying gorgeous days with good friends.
For spring break I am not going to odessa anymore as the weather is beautiful but sill pretty cold. And most everyone I know had quarantine as I mentioned before so I am the only person I know with a full spring break. but I am going to visit my friend Sharece from training in Vinnytsya in Central Ukraine.

How many Americans does it take to...

finish a game of billards. Yes I said billards, not pool, and there is a difference or so I'm told.
So yesterday was the big "Meet Your Neighbors Meeting" in Ternopil. Every oblast(province) in ukraine has one for peace corps. We get to meet, discuss administrative issuesm, vacation days, the moving of the Peace Corps office in Kyiv(news I personally find very traumatizing) and the new peace corps sexaul harassment poicy which was of course brokent the second we all got to the bar.
I had met all of my neighbors except one. We have a great gang in Ternopilska Oblast now Mandi, Bob, Linda, Paul, Matt, Sean, Curtis, Sofia, Goldie, Celeste, Danielle and myself. We all went to a cafe for lunch and spent most of the afternoon sipping beers and talking. But we needed something to do so we decided to take on Russian Billards. There are a couple of billards places in Ternopil. Now I have gotten decent at regular american pool at the ex-pat bars in Kyiv. But Russian billards is different in that the table is almost fifty percent bigger, the balls are larger and all white and the ball is only one milimeter smaller than the pocket so you have to be dead on in order to sink the short.
There were four tables in this large room and at each of the other tables were a groups of drunk Ukrainian men. None of us really knew the rules to russian billards but we noticed that you can use any ball as your cue ball, you do not need to use the single colored ball that is on the table. And the shots all look pretty kamakazi. There didn't seem to be a lot of strategy and there are a lot of rickashay (sp) shots that seem to go in by accident. But a couple of groups came and went in the two hours and three beers we were there.
We decided to play cutthroat. Where each player as a certain number of balls on the table, in our case only two each with so many players. And the object of the game is to hit the other players in to the pockets and keep your balls on the table (I am anticipating any possible joke you could make right now and it would be considered sexual harassment by the standards of the federal government).
The game took us so long becasue it is really difficult to hit the ball in the hole becasue the ball is heavier, the pockets are so small and the table is so big. It turns out there is a rule where you must keep one heel on the floor if you are reaching over to take a shot. And at one point during the game I was reaching over the table to do a behind the back shot and I could only keep one toe on the floor. Sean said it was okay for women to only have a toe becasue they are short. So I went and stood next to Sean and seeing as I am two inches taller than him he took the rule back and made a rule that all Kates have to shoot with two feet on the ground. I ended up winning...by default both of my balls stayed on the table. Go team.
It was a fun night. Getting to know the group 31 (I am group 29) PCVs better. All the girls stayed at Lindas place and I am still hanging with Danielle now. And on Tuesday I will be visiting the grand opening of the Independent-Learning resource center at Celeteste's site. Later this week (it is my spring break) I will be going to Odessa with a couple of friends from training. So things are going well over all. I am still doing a lot of work on camp things but it is nice to take a break for a couple of days.
All the new PCVs are great and we are making all sorts of plans, namely for some teacher training seminars on learning styles and fostering independent study.

No cut-zies: An Ode to the American Second grader in me

So I do most of my interneting(if this isn't actually a word I'm going to pull an George W. and use it anyway) at the local computer club. This is a place that makes most of its money off of phtocopying and young boys playing video games. Lately I have been here alot with all of my projects, many days a week. And whenever my pupils come in they stand over my shoulder and watch what I am doing for several minutes. Now I have been in this country for a long time and have gotten used to many things. I never leave the house with out toilet paper and don't even expect privacy when doing the thing that causes one to need toilet paper. I buy most anything from food to furniture out of doors and I would never wear shoes in doors. But there are two things that I will never get used to: people cutting in line and children staring at my private email account (which Ihor from the 5th grade is doing as I type this).
Today I went to the post office becasue it is Tuesday and I go to the post office every Tuesday. Its my thing. But today I went during the 20 minute break from classes as usual and there was a line of 7 or 8 people in front of me. All I have to do is ask for my mail and the lady goes in the back room and gets it, it takes thirty seconds. I figure I can wait in this line and have just engough time to get back to school, accross the street, for the third lesson. But the line gets long, How? you might ask...people go to the front of it. This doesn't seem to bother anybody else. They all wait. This happens everywhere, not just the post office and I have figured a few things out about Ukrainian society becasue of it. In a communist society if someone else needs something more or is going to be quick it is better for everyone that they not get frusterated waiting for it. also I think that in America we try to respect other peoples space and lives and if someone got there before me they planned better and deserve to go in front of me, this concept does not exsist here. Atleast this is what I percieve.
And the teller who does not care about her job, because it was chosen for her, just helps the person in front of her with a scowl on her face.
I waiting patiently hoping to get my mail but not expecting it. I give myself a little talk everytime I go to the post office, internet or to buy a train ticket it goes like this: I fully acknowledge that this may not work or go my way. If it does not it will be okay. I will be fine.

I know this makes me sound like I should be taking slow deep breaths out of a paper bag, but in as unpredictible a place as I live it is important to manage one's own expectations, especially if I am not going to be pushing my way to the front of lines.
And I am through this whole experience thinking to my self "No Fair! No Cut-zies!" Like I am in elementary school or something. Eventually another teacher from the school come in and asks what I am doing. I explain that I am waiting for my mail. And she walks up to the front of the line and asks for it for me. The ornary lady behind the counter hands it to me.
I have tried to thin what might happen if someone did that in the US and I honestly can't even picture it.

developments: disturbing and otherwise

In doing some research for the Creative Block of the camp I am working on I have been looking for good beginning theater exercises. And in my notes I spelled theater: "theatre." The British way!!!!!!!!!!
And a little while ago when I was talking to my friend Jessica on the phone and telling her about my holidays.
Katie: "I spent christmas with my friends Mandi and Andriy who live about 60 kilometers south of me."
Jessica: "ha, ha you just said kilometer." She laughed, embarassed like we were in junior high and I just said a naughty word.
So cleary I have been here a little too long. I have another eight months to go. But I just found out yesterday that my amazing mother found me some impossible flights home for the wedding of that very same Jessica. I think it is just the thing that I need, to see my family and close friends (other wise known as my tribe) to invigorate my last few months of service. Yeah!!!!!!!!

Dutch Elm Disease and other unexpected events

I don't have any clue why, but the British Text book we use in our school finds it necesary for seventh graders to be able to discuss Dutch Elm Disease in scientific detail in English. It is painful to hear the kids sight read words like carbon dioxide and nitrogen oxide. I will never understand them being obliged to learn these words before they know how to send a letter or buy food at the store. But such is the nature of the Ukrainian education system, the verb "to fight the fascits" is in the cirriculum but not postage stamp.
Anyway this has been one of many suprises lately. Last weekend I was on my way to the center, fighting my way through the mud in front of my apartment when nice, new, blue sedan pulls up and asks me directions to a church. I don't really know the difference between the churches and I explained that I was not from around here. Then the passenger in non-accented American English leans over the driver and asks if they are on the right road to the little, 600 year old church. I said "Oh the little churc." Shocked by both the American English and the age of the church. They drove away and I was so shocked I didn't have the presence of mind to ask the woman where she was from. And I find out later in the week that the small church set back in the mud in my neighborhood was built in 1423. This little building is older than the modern history of North America. Wow, my little village really does have a long history. and I apologize to mom and dad and my friend Nicole who visited me and didn't get to see the church. I just had no idea. I haven't been inside yet either, it is always locked with a cheerful, green pad lock.
I'm sorry it has been so long, I have been working on a grant for the camp I am involved in this summer. It has taken up the majority of my time the last two weeks but I turned it in just a half hour ago. That is a huge weight off my shoulders. This weekend is a long weekend. Tomorrow is the 8th of March aka Women's Day in the former soviet union. I have already recieved flowers and cards from my pupils just for my chromosones. Wow, what a country.