I'm now over a month into what I could swear was either a year or a week of training, it's hard to tell. I'm slowly finding my way through a mucky, consonant filled language and a rather unexciting culinary selection. I'm getting to know my community and my students, though not in any substantial way. I am buried in a whirlwind of feelings, ranging from hopeful to discouraged, uncomfortable to giddy, bored to hectic.
On weekdays, I go to four hours of language class. We are hurtling through Russian, but the results are truly unbelievable. After 5 weeks, we are able to describe ourselves, our families, food and recipes, the weather, directions to a place, the contents of a rooms, request repairs, and throw around some key safety phrases. All of this can be done in multiple tenses, in compound or complex sentences, but still with very little confidence. Over time I have no doubt that we will all be excellent speakers of Russian, but for the moment it's a bit like trying to cram an entire doctor's office worth of files into one drawer: it's a mountain of useful information but we can only find something if we know where it is already. We'll certainly need it all in the future, but it'll take some organization and a lot of time to clean up before everything is swiftly and reliably accessible.
Two mornings per week I teach classes at a local school. Oster is a small town, but not so small that they have only one school building. In addition to the regional technical college, a kindergarten building, and the 400+ student secondary school called Gymnasia, there's my school, which is divided into two buildings: first through fourth graders in one, 5th through 11th across the street. So far, I've been working predominantly in the middle grades, though this coming week I will be taking my song and dance across the road to the 3rd graders. The classroom portion of my training is the part with which I am the most comfortable. I have no anxiety in front of the kids and plenty of experience with classroom management and lesson planning. Relieved that there's one portion of my life of which I'm fully in control, I can just have fun with my lessons and enjoy substitute teaching.
The rest of my time is filled with various tutoring sessions, medical or safety sessions, community project meetings, or field trips into the community. We've been tasked with visiting each other's host families, meeting with the mayor, touring the House of Creativity (an after school center for the arts), vegetable price comparison in the bazaar, and even navigating the transportation systems to get to the capital. All this plus lesson planning, Russian homework, and teacher theory reading leaves very little time to unwind or socialize, but we make it work. Sundays are relatively free, and my co-trainees and I enjoy strolling down to the restaurant on the river bank and relaxing on the patio in the beautiful spring weather.
The food isn't entirely questionable nor is it half as exciting as Korea. Potatoes at every meal, no joke. For a while it was just bland. In fact, American food may be terribly salty for my tastes these days, but a lot of food here could really use some flavor. The soups need a little extra something, the dumplings don't stand out, and there's not a spicy dish to be had. Fortunately, I've found some ways to liven up my meals. Garlic and onions are always plentiful, and I've finally gotten those as a regular addition to soups and potatoes. I've backed off of the exorbitantly greasy meats (some of which are in fact pure fat) and get my bread instead with a thin layer of extreme sinus relief horseradish mustard or even just pure хрен (ground horseradish and beet). My co-trainees and I made a kicking borscht, the recipe for which will surely make it's way up here. I feel confidant that once I get control of my own kitchen, I will be able to eat happily here.
It's been an interesting several weeks on the home front. I'm getting to know my family better and better. Thus far, my best relationship is with my host father Nikolai. We've planted tomatoes together, shoveled dirt, and played with Ram, his massive dog. Every few days I get a fresh tour of the garden. When my host mother is out of the house, I peel potatoes and reheat leftovers with Nikolai. Just last night, our relationship took a huge leap as he asked me to cut his hair. The other day, he showed me all of his old driver's license photos. "This is me in '69. This is me in '72. This is me in..." Sometimes I go out to the river bank where he's tapped a few birch trees for sap, which we collect and haul back to the house. We sat down to clean fish two nights ago, but scraping the scales off of and rending the guts out from still living river fish is where I draw the line.
My host mother Lyuda is a bundle of bipolar. For the bulk of the time, she is a doting mother, over-feeding and petting me. Occasionally she exhibits all the fire and brimstone of any Korean ajuma. Woman loves a good gossip, and can often be spotted on her favorite sofa getting all the latest gab from one of her local sources. She speaks very clearly and slowly for my benefit. Having had four volunteers before me, this is not her first rodeo. She loves her grotesque cat Mambo and is completely blind without her glasses, although she only puts them on when it's absolutely necessary. Our worst time together occurred last weekend, when I didn't want to stand through the 3 am until dawn Easter mass. Woman turned on the guilt like a professional: "I guess you don't want to tell America about our important cultural traditions. We're all tired but we will sleep all day Sunday. If you're so tired why are you awake right now? All my other volunteers went and said it was extremely interesting. My cousin decorated the whole church, but I guess you don't support this family." Woah lady, back off. On the whole, however, we have a very nice relationship.
In the evenings, after the parents turn in for the night, I play Russian card games with the three tenants: Lonya, Kolya, and Dima. Lonya has the deepest voice I've ever heard on a man, Kolya is constantly drunk or sleeping it off, whereas Dima never drinks but mysteriously is the only one with a girlfriend. The three of them are students at the technical college, and as the semester winds down they are often drafting one of the 6 architectural designs required for graduation. On the weekends, they leave Oster to go back to their parents' homes in different cities around the region, leaving all the internet for me! Unfortunately, that time is almost expired. There's still so much that will happen in the weeks between now and swearing in, and I'll do my best to keep the updates coming. Hope all is well wherever you may be.
On weekdays, I go to four hours of language class. We are hurtling through Russian, but the results are truly unbelievable. After 5 weeks, we are able to describe ourselves, our families, food and recipes, the weather, directions to a place, the contents of a rooms, request repairs, and throw around some key safety phrases. All of this can be done in multiple tenses, in compound or complex sentences, but still with very little confidence. Over time I have no doubt that we will all be excellent speakers of Russian, but for the moment it's a bit like trying to cram an entire doctor's office worth of files into one drawer: it's a mountain of useful information but we can only find something if we know where it is already. We'll certainly need it all in the future, but it'll take some organization and a lot of time to clean up before everything is swiftly and reliably accessible.
Two mornings per week I teach classes at a local school. Oster is a small town, but not so small that they have only one school building. In addition to the regional technical college, a kindergarten building, and the 400+ student secondary school called Gymnasia, there's my school, which is divided into two buildings: first through fourth graders in one, 5th through 11th across the street. So far, I've been working predominantly in the middle grades, though this coming week I will be taking my song and dance across the road to the 3rd graders. The classroom portion of my training is the part with which I am the most comfortable. I have no anxiety in front of the kids and plenty of experience with classroom management and lesson planning. Relieved that there's one portion of my life of which I'm fully in control, I can just have fun with my lessons and enjoy substitute teaching.
The rest of my time is filled with various tutoring sessions, medical or safety sessions, community project meetings, or field trips into the community. We've been tasked with visiting each other's host families, meeting with the mayor, touring the House of Creativity (an after school center for the arts), vegetable price comparison in the bazaar, and even navigating the transportation systems to get to the capital. All this plus lesson planning, Russian homework, and teacher theory reading leaves very little time to unwind or socialize, but we make it work. Sundays are relatively free, and my co-trainees and I enjoy strolling down to the restaurant on the river bank and relaxing on the patio in the beautiful spring weather.
The food isn't entirely questionable nor is it half as exciting as Korea. Potatoes at every meal, no joke. For a while it was just bland. In fact, American food may be terribly salty for my tastes these days, but a lot of food here could really use some flavor. The soups need a little extra something, the dumplings don't stand out, and there's not a spicy dish to be had. Fortunately, I've found some ways to liven up my meals. Garlic and onions are always plentiful, and I've finally gotten those as a regular addition to soups and potatoes. I've backed off of the exorbitantly greasy meats (some of which are in fact pure fat) and get my bread instead with a thin layer of extreme sinus relief horseradish mustard or even just pure хрен (ground horseradish and beet). My co-trainees and I made a kicking borscht, the recipe for which will surely make it's way up here. I feel confidant that once I get control of my own kitchen, I will be able to eat happily here.
It's been an interesting several weeks on the home front. I'm getting to know my family better and better. Thus far, my best relationship is with my host father Nikolai. We've planted tomatoes together, shoveled dirt, and played with Ram, his massive dog. Every few days I get a fresh tour of the garden. When my host mother is out of the house, I peel potatoes and reheat leftovers with Nikolai. Just last night, our relationship took a huge leap as he asked me to cut his hair. The other day, he showed me all of his old driver's license photos. "This is me in '69. This is me in '72. This is me in..." Sometimes I go out to the river bank where he's tapped a few birch trees for sap, which we collect and haul back to the house. We sat down to clean fish two nights ago, but scraping the scales off of and rending the guts out from still living river fish is where I draw the line.
My host mother Lyuda is a bundle of bipolar. For the bulk of the time, she is a doting mother, over-feeding and petting me. Occasionally she exhibits all the fire and brimstone of any Korean ajuma. Woman loves a good gossip, and can often be spotted on her favorite sofa getting all the latest gab from one of her local sources. She speaks very clearly and slowly for my benefit. Having had four volunteers before me, this is not her first rodeo. She loves her grotesque cat Mambo and is completely blind without her glasses, although she only puts them on when it's absolutely necessary. Our worst time together occurred last weekend, when I didn't want to stand through the 3 am until dawn Easter mass. Woman turned on the guilt like a professional: "I guess you don't want to tell America about our important cultural traditions. We're all tired but we will sleep all day Sunday. If you're so tired why are you awake right now? All my other volunteers went and said it was extremely interesting. My cousin decorated the whole church, but I guess you don't support this family." Woah lady, back off. On the whole, however, we have a very nice relationship.
In the evenings, after the parents turn in for the night, I play Russian card games with the three tenants: Lonya, Kolya, and Dima. Lonya has the deepest voice I've ever heard on a man, Kolya is constantly drunk or sleeping it off, whereas Dima never drinks but mysteriously is the only one with a girlfriend. The three of them are students at the technical college, and as the semester winds down they are often drafting one of the 6 architectural designs required for graduation. On the weekends, they leave Oster to go back to their parents' homes in different cities around the region, leaving all the internet for me! Unfortunately, that time is almost expired. There's still so much that will happen in the weeks between now and swearing in, and I'll do my best to keep the updates coming. Hope all is well wherever you may be.
