Defence

Government funding here is not, as you might expect, doled out evenly regardless of merit and without incentive for improvement. Government employees, let's use teachers as an example, are asked to "defend" their skills every 5 years. If a teacher can prove that they are implementing modern methodological methods, improving students' abilities, and successfully imparting the required national curriculum, they receive a raise. If not, they are stuck at entry level pay for another 5 years. This process is called "defence," and it entails a lot of preparation, stress, and observation by important officials from the capital.

Just as teachers' pay is determined by these demonstrations of success and improvement, so is the House of Culture's funding. Any HoC receives a base budget from their local administration, in our case the Lutuginsky Region. However, if a HoC has dance, theatrical, or musical groups that are performing at a particularly high level, those groups can earn the status of "National." This means that the local administration's base budget is supplemented by a federal bump. This is rewarded since, aside from encouraging excellence, it is also assumed that excellent groups will need better costumes, transportation to festivals, and registration fees for competitions. The more National groups a HoC has, the more its overall funding.

Okolitsa (The Outskirts) defended its National status last Monday. Given that we are a "Cossack Folklore" group, we not only had to build a vocal repertoire, but also weave it into a skit that demonstrated traditions, told popular stories, and showed dance styles. We even prepared a spread of Cossack foods for the judges (which seemed ever so slightly like bribery).

Our local newspaper Glorious Labour, quoting the Director of the Lugansk Oblast Centre of National Arts, Honoured Employee of the Ukrainian Department of Culture, and Representative of the Certification Commission Vasily Yarovoy:

Today you have demonstrated the traditions of Ukrainian musical art, and what I've seen today has simply touched my soul. Yourperformance had wonderful voices, it had the beautiful spirit of giving, a high level of mastery and just a shocking atmosphere....It had soul, and that's all from you. Thank you for bringing our culture - Russian, Ukrainian, Don Basin Cossack - to the people. I'm proud that I myself have the opportunity to congratulate you. Such a young group, which means you are going to go places. Best of luck! Be creative!

 The result: we succeeded in defending our National title.

You can find more from the Okolitsa defence performance here.

Escaping Arrest

It starts like any good crime story would: four guys, sitting around a table, discussing which pop songs to adapt for their Christmas concert. Unlike K-pop, I have yet to become interested in Russian music, so you can imagine how very little I had to add to this conversation. I got bored, I went home. I thought that was the end of the excitement for the day, but it turns out I was just a hair's breadth away from being cuffed and incarcerated.

It wasn't long after I left the House of Culture that Mikhail, Sergei, and Artyom followed after me. September brought nothing but bone-chilling rain, but last week was бабье лето. The boys decided to enjoy what little remained of the nice fall weather by sitting in the park behind the HoC and enjoying a beer. As it turns out, this park is regularly cruised by cops looking to bust gopniks violating the open-container law. My three friends get nicked. I would totally have been right there.

This should have been the end of the story, which really wouldn't have been worth sharing. However, it's Ukraine, and nothing is rarely as simple as drink your beer in the park, go down to the station, pay your fine. When the boys arrived at the station, they were sat in a waiting area under supervision while an officer ran their documents. You see, the penalty is weighted by the repetition of the offence. Only by looking up citizens in the system by their passport numbers can the police know the difference between a first timer (off with a warning) or a third (257UAH).

Luckily for the guys, there had been a power outage, causing a system reboot: a system reboot which, for whatever reason, wasn't working so well. While waiting for an hour to be punished, Misha, Seryoja, and Tyoma sat around the waiting room under the heavy glare of area babushkas. Already busted for drinking on government property, they asked the cops if it was fine to finish up their beers, so as not to let it go to waste. They ended up spending the hour drinking with the policemen and debating the merits of the law. In the end, the system never did work (what system here ever does?), so my friends were released with no penalty and a good buzz. Justice done.

70% of me wishes I hadn't skipped out on the harrowing adventure. The other 30% regrets the irony that, while a first-hand account would have made for a better story, I would not have felt comfortable telling that story because all my bosses read this blog.

Ukrainian Comic Con

Ok, maybe not. More like an exhibition of Soviet comic artists and authors. But still, I've been looking for this sort of thing throughout my 19 months in Ukraine; the art scene, the counter-culture, Spiderman in Russian, locals who look more like Tank Girl than receptionist Barbie.

The event was held at the ArtPRICHAL gallery in Kiev, a nifty little art space wedged in under a bridge along the Dnepr river. The front of the room consisted of a few tables where vendors were selling comics and graphic novels, mostly by American authors, both in English and Russian. The back of the space was set up for lectures about a variety of topics, including art techniques, new technologies, and breaking into the industry. One of those new technologies was being featured at a small station in the centre of the room: a digital pad that registers a stylus and renders its strokes onto a computer screen.

Lining the walls of the whole gallery, poster-sized reproductions of comic book pages were hung. For me, this was the main attraction. All of these comics were written and drawn by ex-Soviet authors and artists. It was enthralling to see what kind of graphic art is coming out of this region, all of it burgeoning and creative. Not surprisingly, very little of it was influenced by the DC/Marvel giants in the American industry. There was rather a strong connection between Asian manga and this art style, though not exclusively. Some pages were reminiscent of Shel Silverstein, some of Tim Burton, while still others were akin to webcomics such as Penny Arcade.

Without any further blathering, some of the pieces that I found interesting:

History of a samurai
"Harikiri!"
The End.

"I am not a cat!"

Several panels from the textless comic "The Red Thread," which reminded me of Harold and the Purple Crayon.

"The Forgotten," another textless story about a monkey and his dog, abandoned in space, and how the come home.

One of the really fun things about reading comics in Russian is seeing how they put sound into text. "SKREEEEEEE TOOD!" (a squeeky hinge and then a door slam)

4 from a whole Farside-esque series of mini-comics in a book named simply "Ostrich." Basically, what happens in different situations when a timorous ostrich sticks its head underground.

For anyone living in the region (or anyone simply interested in some Russian comics) there is a big online vendor called On The Bus. This time next year, they should have a location open in Kiev as well. For anyone who has ever looked, you know that it's impossible to find comics in book stores here. If you're language learning, it is helpful to read something with pictures that also doesn't treat you like a 5 year old. Not only that, but there's lots of fun slang and colloquialisms. I'll be working through some X-Men this winter, and hopefully I will be able to give villainous monologues and witty one-liners in time for my close of service language test!