ChasPik: The Greatest Hits

Yes, our winter concert was called "The Greatest Hits." No, we don't have any of those. That didn't stop us. Loaded with humour, choreographed dancing, costume changes, and Queen, it was indeed a concert to remember. Here are some of my favourite numbers. Check out my VK page for the full concert!

What happens in a choir practise when someone forgets the words? Obviously, the show must go on, but when four divas let their true feelings show, accusations start to fly.

ChasPik's arrangement of the classic Little Mermaid track "Kiss the Girl" has double the obnoxious seagull and all the...double bass harp playing...of the beloved children's classic.

I have no words. I can't. I just can't. Too damn funny.

The problem with speaking English is that sometimes my group assumes that I can sing all songs ever sung in English. As if the phonetics were the only thing keeping me from being Freddie Mercury. 

To Poland

While my typical idea of winter break involves soup cups full of tea and marathons of Fringe while swaddled in an afghan, this year I made an alternate commitment. Starting before noon on the 1st, I hauled butt clear across the country and into southern Poland to work at Wizard Camp. Together with 46 Ukrainian students, a handful of staff, and two more American volunteers, we conducted an English camp for a week in the town of Zywiec (pronounced: Jivets. Polish is a mystery to me.) Although I was under the impression we'd be wearing striped scarves, preparing potions, and quibbling over quidditch rules, this was good too.

Zywiec is a quiet hamlet outside of Krakow, ensconced in rolling hills and evergreen forests. We shacked up at Rychwald Manor, a multi-building complex up the hill from town. The lodging was considerably nicer than any I've ever stayed at in Ukraine: consistent hot water, quaint slanted ceilings, and quality meals. In fact, the whole atmosphere was very pleasant. The church bells tolled every hour from the town below and the weather was surprisingly less severe than back home.

We taught lessons to a group of talented students throughout the day and did various activities with them in the evenings. Some of the highlights included team performances of songs and dances, cooking bratwursts over the fire, writing a play, karaoke night, making a time capsule, and writing letters to Santa (UkrChristmas is on the 7th of January due to the fact that the orthodox church uses the Gregorian calendar).

We took a day trip down to Vienna! While we didn't have much more than a few hours to wander the city, we managed to see the bulk of the sites and still meet a local. I can't say enough what a gorgeous place Vienna was, and so full of music. The next time I visit, I absolutely must see the opera, philharmonic, and plethora of museums and not simply gaze ignorantly at the statues and architecture.

We also stopped on our way home in Krakow. Whereas Vienna's beauty is stately, august white embellishments trimming the high pastel buildings which tower over narrow cobblestone streets, Krakow has a more organic beauty. The side-walks are under tree canopies, the buildings shorter and coloured rich earth tones, and even the river is more quaint and provincial than the regal Danube. I'd be lucky to live in either city, and both will require more of my attention in the future.

In the end, the week passed like a strange dream, and before I learned to pronounce "thank you" in Polish, I was back on a train in Ukraine. It was a surreal way to pass the winter: in an unassuming village with a group of dedicated children who could not only speak English but in fact wanted to do so. Spending so many days with good friends whom I had not seen in months if not more was also something of a Christmas miracle, one which ended all to soon. Being back in my town, back to my routine, renders the experience that much more ethereal, but I'm refreshed and motivated for my last year in Lutugino. Bring on 2014!

EuroMaidan Protests: A Few Eastern Perspectives

For the last full month, protesters have stood in the main square of Kiev in what started over a botched trade union deal with the EU but now more broadly demonstrates displeasure over Russia's influence in the country, general unhappiness with the current administration, and the deepening schism between East and West about what it means to be Ukrainian. You can't live any further east than I do, and the following (while not my opinions) are true conversations I've heard first hand since this whole thing started in November.

Elderly teacher, in the office:

Sure, I agree with the protesters, but their tactics are ridiculous. Why stand around in the cold doing nothing? They should sit down together and negotiate rather than freezing and yelling, accomplishing nothing.

University student, posted on social media:

This conflict isn't about economics, culture, Russia, the trade deal, or Timoshenko. This is about the fact that our government is criminal and incompetent. President Yanukovich has been in jail already, and is supported by his mafia family. The Prime Minister is so devoted to Russia that he can't even speak our national language. Nothing short of a regime change will end these protests.

Worker, at the House of Culture:

Western Ukrainians have no right to make demands. All the industry, all the jobs, all the money: it's in the east. We work, and they live. We're the ones who actually defended our homeland in WWII. Meanwhile, Westerners greeted the Nazis with bread and salt, to this day celebrating collaborators like Stepan Bandera. I'll be proud of my country when we have a decent wage. Until then, I'm not changing languages, I'm not praising Shevchenko. We were better off when we were close to Russia's great strength. Why abandon that relationship for Europe?

Young teacher, in the cafeteria:

I support the opposition leader. I think he's very smart and I hope he will be our president soon. However, the Party of Regions was offering almost a thousand gryvnia for participation in their pro-government protest. It didn't accomplish anything, it wasn't ever going to accomplish anything, but why leave money on the table? I suspect the anti-government protest is the same way. None of this would exist if people weren't being paid. This is just a new way to earn money in our country.

Worker, at the House of Culture:

I don't really care for these political issues. I just want to live my life and not argue about whether or not bread prices would increase if we signed the agreement with the EU. However, I don't think Ukraine should ever have existed. We have no common identity, no common history. We were able to unite against a common enemy during WWII, but now we don't understand each other. It would be better for everyone if we were two different countries.

Elderly teacher, in the office:

We must join with Europe. It is the only way forward. With Russia, we will always be kept down. They will never see us as an equal nation, but always as one that they used to control. With Europe we have a chance to play on an even field. Russia only wants to use us: to use our port on the Black Sea, to use our factories, to sell us the oil that they've stolen from Kazakhstan. We must leave this relationship and start fresh with Western Europe. It worked so well for Poland, after all.

These are a few of the mixed opinions here in the East. Though the oblast as a whole is much less political and engaged in this conflict than other oblasts are, I hope this can help characterise the details of the conflict. To my volunteer friends in the West, who can from time to time be quick to judge the Donbas, I hope this shows that there are all sorts of people out here, and most of them are not dyed in the wool fans of this administration. As for my own opinion? I'll never tell. As I'm not Ukrainian, it's not my place to say what this country should or shouldn't do. They have to find their own common goals and make choices for their own future. All I can say is that I hope only the best for Ukraine. Счастье, здоровья, спокойства, достатка.

I mean, who couldn't love this country?

New Year's Party

Growing up, there were no vegetarians in my family. Food was never a moral choice. None of us were trying to make a wrestling weight class or hike the AT, so it wasn't about calories per dollar. We weren't looking for speed or convenience, but weren't overly bougie about the dinner table.

So, yeah, not this.

For us, meals were about sharing, showing love, enjoying time together over a spread of the mouth-watering and comfort-imparting. It is in that spirit that I prepared my home for NYE14, both the most important Ukrainian holiday and the last one that I'll spend here. Did I want everything to be photo-worthy? Obviously. Did I want to bask in my favourite phrase all night (Стивен вообще молодец.)? Shamelessly. Most importantly, though, I wanted to pour love all over these awesome people, because this time next year I will have been long gone.

Any Ukrainian gathering needs three things for success: copious amounts of food and alcohol, places for taking pictures of yourselves, and activities. Obviously, the first I had in spades. Goose slow roasted for 4 hours, basted with pomegranate juice every 30 minutes,

Thai coconut shrimp with sweet and sour sauce (and sesame shrimp, due to a brevity of coconut shavings),

and an American pasta salad (something Ukrainians would apparently never dream of, although it makes so much sense for their palate.) are just a few of the dishes on our New Year's table. 

In fact, all the food couldn't fit on the table at once, so the finger foods had to make their home off in the kitchen.

The rest of the night is was just joyful. We played some games, we took some pictures, we recorded video of ourselves and what we wished for the group in the coming year. In Ukrainian tradition, we wrote our wishes on slips of paper, burned them at midnight, then drank the ashes in champagne. There was karaoke and Twister. There were no fist fights (so proud of you, Ukraine). Certainly it was a night to remember. Next year, wherever I may be for NYE, I'll be thinking of these awesome people and the time we spent together. I hope they'll be thinking of me, too.