Ukraine Bulletin

November 30, 2007

The fall semester has flown by – I am still really enjoying life in Dnipropetrovsk. I have met more students, and have gotten to know some of last year’s students even better. The English conversation sessions have expanded from one time per week to two times per week, with an occasional third session on Saturdays. Some members of this group read The Incredible Journey. This group has new members each week, and we have had up to 20 people of all ages attend. When David came to visit here in October, he was the featured speaker! We also hosted American artist Janos Enyedi who spoke to the group.

This year I am teaching literature, history and memoir. Last spring we read I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou. This fall, we read the autobiographical novel A Separate Peace by John Knowles. We also looked at poetry, songs, and the students are reading Beloved by Toni Morrison. In addition, they are choosing books to read from among a ton (almost literally) of books I have brought here: One Writer’s Beginnings (Eudora Welty), Night (Elie Wiesel), Never Cry Wolf (Farley Mowat), Written by Herself (Jill Kerr Conway, ed.), Sula (Toni Morrison), Bird by Bird (Anne Lamott), Writing for your Life, (D. Metzger) and so on. Some members of this group want to form a book club and a writer’s group.

I am teaching European History and the Atlantic world to history students, and non-profit organizations and foundations to International Economics (similar to business) students. We hosted a member of the Dnipropetrovsk Soroptimist organization who spoke about the charities her group supports, and how the group is organized. Each of these students is researching a non-profit group or foundation and reporting to the class about it.

In addition, I have asked all of my students to interview an older person, and ask him or her about his/her earliest memories and strongest memories. Students report to the class about the interview. Most chose to interview their grandparents, and most of the earliest memories are about World War II – often about the arrival of enemy soldiers or the sound of bombs or living in close quarters.

At the beginning of the semester, all my students wrote and talked about their goals. Now, I have begun asking students and others to list three hopes and three fears that they believe Ukrainians have. This is done anonymously on paper. We are collecting and collating these – and an energetic colleague has agreed to formulate a ranking system. Although this is not a “scientific” sample, it does spark some interesting discussions.

At this time of year, I have students evaluate what they have learned (anonymously). I use this information to see what was new for them, what they already knew, what information was absorbed and retained. In addition, it is a useful exercise for deepening their own understanding of their learning.

Some of the responses to these questions have been enlightening. In addition, there have been some fascinating turning points in conversations. I provided readings on the United States and world events. The students are quite unanimous that they would like to read more about Ukraine. Most of the students had no knowledge of the existence of non-profit organizations or foundations before they took the class. One student mentioned that as a result of the class he knows what his goals are. Many said they learned about the stories of their own grandparents and their classmates’ grandparents.

In class and in English conversation sessions we have had lively discussions about the different forms of the Ukrainian language in different regions of Ukraine (and which one is purer), the possibility of abduction by aliens, stem-cell research, the California fires, discrimination against minorities in the United States, anti-Semitism in general, and anti-Semitism in Ukraine, the election process, art, business, spiritualists and the occult, American traditions, Native American culture and history, Ukrainian heros, the fatal explosion of a building here in Dnipropetrovsk, the various Mafia “clans” in Ukraine, human motivation, ecumenism, the functions of international organizations, and job prospects in Ukraine.

Students want to know why American men come to Ukraine to find brides. They asked about elevated highways, curriculum, music, university life. They wanted to know why, during Halloween, we pretend to be ghosts. Why are American blacks treated badly? They want to know how much Americans earn. They ask about Hillary Clinton. Have I been to Hollywood? They want to know what Americans know about Ukraine, and what they think about Ukraine. Professors want to know what Americans think of Marxist theory. Why, they ask, do Americans not know other languages?

So, these questions keep me on my toes. Because we have entered the darkest time of the year, we are watching movies twice a week in the afternoon. “The Incredible Journey”, “A Separate Peace”, “Philadelphia Story”, “Kramer v. Kramer”, “Saving Private Ryan”, “Tootsie”. You can imagine the discussions we have!

Ukraine Bulletin September 2007

September 2007

I have returned to Dnipropetrovsk after a wonderful Vermont summer. I’ve been here four days and already I feel pretty settled in. It’s nice to come back to the apartment we had last spring. I will be here until February 1, 2008, when I move to L’viv. I have already rented an apartment in L’viv, which is on the border with Poland.

I started teaching yesterday. It was fun to see the students again, and to plan with them what we will read this year. They had some ideas which they voiced—I guess the “participatory” classroom I was trying to create worked.

One class of third year psychology students decided to read A Separate Peace by John Knowles. I am re-reading it now. I had forgotten what a well-written book it is. It describes World War II, but from an American perspective. However, it is primarily about relationships and coming of age. I hope they will enjoy it.

The parliamentary elections here are September 30. There were billboards in Kiev, but there is little hoopla here. I will be one of many “international observers” for the elections. I will be paired with a Russian or Ukrainian speaking observer. I plan to observe in Kiev, about six hours north of here. Later this month we will get training from the US Embassy and from OSCE, which oversees elections in different countries.

This is not a presidential election, it is an election for members of parliament. However, it will serve as a referendum on the president and prime minister. Most expect that Viktor Yuschenko will lose some influence as a result of this election.

It is difficult to find any election fervor here – no one here has yet mentioned the election to me. Disillusionment, disinterest and apathy are the main reactions, rather than interest.

Another Fulbrighter has come to Dnipropetrovsk, Dr. Young-Tae Shin. I have enjoyed getting to know her. She teaches Political Science in Oklahoma. She will be here until the end of June.

Tomorrow I will visit an art therapy program at a hospital for disabled children, and then take a walk by the river with Young-Tae. Monday I meet with a television crew (help!) called Encyclopedia, and then teach in the afternoon. Tuesday, I begin my Russian lessons.

Anya, our Ukrainian student visitor, has arrived back in Dnipropetrovsk and is visiting her family outside the city before returning for classes. She is studying to be a mining engineer, and enjoyed visiting Rock of Ages, which (coincidentally) owns a mine in Ukraine! Olga, my friend and translator, flies home to Dnipropetrovsk tomorrow. This summer has been a whirlwind of activity and impressions which none of us will soon forget.

I also thoroughly enjoyed the Alps on my way home from Ukraine in July. I spent three nights in Interlaken with my sister and nephew. We took cog railways and other teleferiques to the “top” (well, almost) of the Jungfrau, and to Murren, a carless village. Then I spent about 8 nights in the Chamonix valley/Mont Blanc area. I fell in love, despite persistent downpours.. My home base was Argentiere, a perfect village outside of Chamonix. I did hike, and spent two nights in mountain “refuges” on the Tour de Mont Blanc (everyone should do this once). Then, chaufferred by my French sister and her son, Simon, we visited the Vallee d’Aoste in Italy for two nights. My French mother, “Maman”/”Ninette”, in her 80s, is still up and able, as energetic as ever. It was truly wonderful to see her in her mountain home again. Two nights in Chaville, outside of Paris, completed a wonderful time in Western Europe – long evenings chatting with my French sister, Cati, who is working on a plan to move the family back to Savoie after a long stint in the outskirts of Paris.

Finally, David’s 60th birthday bash in late July was an event to remember. David wore the Irish flag throughout, even as he led the over-60s to victory in whiffle-ball. You might say the young’uns let him win, as he was the ONLY over-60 who played. Devin and Bryce came home for the event, and we were all gratified by good friends, good food and a gorgeous Vermont day. Thanks so much to all who came to help us celebrate. The next one is 70, and, well, after that the rental cars don’t let you rent anymore.

This year is quite different for me as David is not here. I will return home for Thanksgiving and again for Christmas. David plans to visit October and in the Spring. We are hoping Devin and Bryce will come over, too.

I hope you all are well. If you are thinking of coming to visit, please do. I even have a spare bed and lots of room! Be well.

Linda

If I lived at the market.....

I am in Dnipropetrovsk, site of one of the largest markets in Ukraine. In addition to teaching, meeting with colleagues and running an English conversation club, I spend time in the Azerka market. Ostensibly, I do this to improve my Russian – the dominant language in this eastern Ukrainian town. Since both my purpose (to look or buy) and theirs (to sell) are clear, the scene is perfect for practicing a few Russian phrases over and over. “What is this?” “How much is this?” and so on.

The market covers an enormous area – several large city blocks – and sells everything from meat to whey, socks to furniture, crafts to raspberry bushes. Babushkas are there side by side with Azerbaijani pomegranate sellers and bored hired vendors. As I wander around, the patterns of activity continue. Do they ever stop? Even when the market is closed, vendors are moving goods in and out, purchasing stock from other merchandisers, settling up accounts, gossiping with others. It seems like the Azerka market never sleeps, which allows the impression that hundreds of people live at the market.

If I lived at the market, who would I be? Would I be the six-year-old who runs to get a snack for his mother? The person from the Carpathians whose brother-in-law’s cousin’s doctor’s son painted the little boxes, personally? The broom-maker? The woman who sells tea to the vendors from a metal cart, and picks up the latest news as she stirs heaps of sugar into the plastic cup? Would I be the one in a blue apron who sweeps around the “tyalets”? Perhaps the strong sixteen-year-old who is happy to demonstrate his biceps as he delivers huge dollies piled with bagged merchandise around corners and down alleys to his aunt’s stall. The hunched woman in her 90s, dressed in five layers, dispensing dried herbal medicines and advice. The dog who waits at the end of the day for scraps of lard from a woman who makes this task her daily charity. The sparrow dodging the metal roof rafters of the dried fruit section. Would I be the sweater seller who doesn’t look up from her dog-eared paperback as customers enter her tiny booth? Would I be the one who fries delicious cheese pastries for a steady stream of patient customers? Would I be the charming gray-haired university graduate who assures each customer, “This coat would fit you”? The vendor with hands worn red who never forgets a face, “Do you want some more lavash . . . .how was it”? The wholesaler who comes to each of her vendors once a week to monitor sales and inventory? The armed guard in a bullet-proof vest? If I lived at the market, would I be the woman in the scarf who displays three horseradish roots and four eggs? If I lived at the market, who would I be?

Map of Ukraine with Cities Visited (Click on Map to Enlarge)

Ukraine Bulletin #14

June 1, 2007

Odessa

There are three ways to say Odessa. First, you say “Odessa”, then smile, then sigh. The second way is to sigh, smile, and say “Odessa”. The third way is to smile, say “Odessa” and then sigh.

Odessa is all of those things. It is endlessly delightful, and if a city can be nostalgic, it is. It is a set of characters on a real life stage. It is a cluster of neighborhoods and networks, crimes and catacombs, smugglers and con artists, and gorgeous happy little children.

Everything seems possible in Odessa, and Odessa makes everything better than it is. It is an exaggeration, and a pleasant one, a wry joke, a secret bargain. Odessa enhances people, and even we seemed better than we normally are, while we were there. The city provides a glow to daily interactions, as does a wedding day, or a light snowfall, or a beautiful garden.

While here in Ukraine, I have thought a lot about how settings affect people – their learning, their openness, their eyes, their thoughts. I have felt for a long time that the academic setting affects the learning at an academy or school. This is not a theory I have proved, but rather an argument in favor of respectful, clean, ordered and artistically pleasing teaching environments. Learning in the Wind River Range of Wyoming last summer was always enhanced and enriched by the setting – a trout stream or a mountain or a crag. My supposition is that it is not simply a “visual” effect, but that the lovely and grand setting of a chapel or a reading room or a university green affects the energy of both students and teachers. Perhaps our sense of perception is piqued by what we see and feel in such settings. Perhaps we simply pay more attention because honoring life demands that we do so.

We only know one person in Odessa, a student Fulbrighter. We did not let her know we were coming. We met her twice in three days, without planning to. There were two girls cradling a black box – the size for fairy slippers – at an outdoor café. Eager to share in their secret, I peered in. A turtle, “Masha”, who travels with them, banked with cabbage leaves and carrot slices. Lisa and Sasha, turtle caretakers, were delighted to make Masha a model of terrapinic beauty. They were adorable in their own right, and gladly posed for the camera.

Yet, behind me was the majestic cream colored Opera House, all gargoyles, dome, columns, sculpture. Should I turn the camera there? At another angle was a film crew gathering a crowd as the actors appeared in wedding garb – should I turn my camera there? For, just as the vows were the most solemn, a wild fight erupted between bride and groom. Mary Belenky was quietly relating a fascinating story. At the critical moment of her story, she gasped. “He is ripping off her dress!”.

We turned to see a naked bride ferociously disrobing her groom. As they stood in the heat, in scant panties and not much more, we realized this was no Disney film. Horrified, we forgot our conversation, and gaped while we watched the director ask the cameras to “cut” the action and call for a break. Bride and groom redressed (odd word in this case) and prepared for Take Two. Police kept gawkers (and Bob’s tall conspicuous camera-bearing self) from approaching too closely, but twenty-year-old boys hid behind bushes for a closer look. We tried to concentrate on the waiters at the restaurant, who, ever vigilant, gently laid blankets over the shoulders of lovely women who were cold in the soft breeze. It was no use. After repeated lessons, we learned that the gown and tuxedo were attached with Velcro in the back, and ripped off rather easily. Her veil still covered her lovely breasts, until that little wind blew it aside.

Bob returned. “Not my kind of photography, really.” It was at once riveting and disheartening, lovely and mildly pornographic, and the couple’s anger (roused for each take) jarred with the lovely setting of plane trees and topiary. The most disciplined waiters in the world now gathered discreetly in the café doorway, timing their eyes for the scene’s salient part.

Mary wisely waited to finish her story another day.

There were many unforgettable vignettes: a beach walk, a morning promenade, an inspection of the port, wading in the Black Sea, a tour of the only functioning synagogue in Odessa, reminiscences about Jewish aid organizations (JOINT/JDC) which, funded largely by Americans, helped Ukraine’s surviving Jews during and after the famine of the early 30s, and continues to do so today. We saw crumbling baroque architecture, shaded city parks filled with people, each bench holding a conversation, mother and daughter strolling arm in arm, men playing chess or passing along information. We ate well, choosing from the cuisines of the 100 different nationalities in Odessa. We smiled. We sighed.

“In Odessa, Jews had a chance,” Mikhail paused, “they had a chance here”. This poignant phrase is oddly hopeful-sounding, and it has been an inspiration for my thoughts about Odessa. Mikhail is the erudite and lively director of a young Jewish Museum in Odessa. As a new city just 200 years ago, Odessa quickly gathered immigrants of dozens of nationalities from both east and west, drawn to the business potential of a port city. An early governor devoted 20 percent of the city’s revenue from the port (for a few decades it was a “free” port) to beautification of the city. City planners set up clusters of neighborhoods around lovely open parks, figuring that with so many ethnicities, families would feel most comfortable living with “their own kind”.

To describe the effect of the wars on Odessa would take a volume or two. But the cores of some of these ethnic neighborhoods survive. Few churches or synagogues remain after Stalin (a nickname that means “steel man”) ordered their destruction or reuse and banned all religious practice. As elsewhere, rituals continued in homes. A city which once had 78 synagogues (a dozen or so of these were major buildings) serving a Jewish population estimated at 200,000-300,000 – around 50 percent (estimates vary)of the prewar population of Odessa – the Odessan Jewish community now has only two. Estimates of the number of remaining Jews in the city run about 30,000. We saw four churches – too few for such a large population. It is impossible to get precise estimates of how many Jews emigrated, how many were deported or transported and how many were killed. Who knows how many assimilated?

Now, just three percent of Odessa’s one million inhabitants are Jewish. They are mostly orthodox Jews, and remain divided into sects (Brody, Ashkenazi, Lubavitchers, Hasidic, Or Sameah and so on). The Palestinian (later Zionist) movement began in Odessa, and since the 1980s, when Jewish Ukrainians were allowed to emigrate to Israel, many did so, from villages and towns, as well as from Odessa. As one guidebook notes, the fact that the Jewish population predominated in Odessa during the early decades of the 20th century means that the city’s tone of tolerance and piety, music and literature, as well as business and family, were influenced by Jewish culture of that time. That influence seems to continue today. Certain street scenes, where older women are sure of things, and smiling older men lean their faces together to hold intimate discussions, transported us to memories of the Bronx, or Brooklyn, or New Jersey, or Brighton Beach.

Long limestone tunnels – 2,000 kilometers of catacombs – run under the entire city and extend out 20 kilometers to the suburbs, providing safe havens for smugglers, the persecuted, and, during WWII, for partisans who resisted the occupation of Odessa by Nazis and their Romanian enforcers. The great open Black Sea provides a stunning contrast to the dank, dark cool tunnels, and gazing at Odessa’s Opera House and lighthouse from the stern of a passenger ship was the last vision many émigrés held of European landscape and culture.

“Why didn’t I die in 1910?” Behind this Odessan lament is an irrepressible life force, quite similar to Sholom-Aleichem’s Tevye in “Fiddler on the Roof”: “La chaim”. Odessa’s trouble with Russia accelerated in her 1905 workers’ rebellion, immortalized in black and white in the film, “Battleship Potemkin”. Yes, we walked down the stairs. Two thousand protesters were murdered on and around the steps by Russian troops.

Sholom-Aleichem, Yiddish author, was born in central Ukraine, and the village on which he based his story can still be found there. But his daughter lived in Odessa after her marriage, and he visited Odessa many times and lived there for three years, one of hundreds of writers, playwrights, poets, philosophers, musicians, dancers, actors and artists whose lives enriched the city. His daughter had a daughter who remembers these visitors to their home, and who emigrated with her parents to the United States and took the name of Bel Kaufman when she wrote Up the Down Staircase.

Lunches where we languished over delectable food with Mary and Bob Belenky were the highlights of this incredible visit. We still can’t quite get Odessa out of our minds – and why would we want to?

LBG

Ukraine Bulletin #13

May 31, 2007

Khmelnetsky

I was invited to speak at the Khmelnetsky National University by Angela Rozova, a Fulbright alum herself (she taught in Iowa a few years ago). On the day we traveled to Khmelnetsky we had time between trains to meet briefly with Ella Reznikova, husband Bill and wonderful friend Temo in Kiev – right in the main square from where television news cameras broadcast pictures of bored flag- drooping “protestors” who smile as they try to look angry. They are paid; it is hot.

The day we were in Kiev we did not see any protestors. It was the day that police (controlled by Yanukovich and the Rada) entered the Prosecutor General’s office to protect him from the president, Yushchenko, who had fired him (are you still with me?) because he refused to investigate three constitutional court judges for misconduct/fraud, and because he never resigned his seat in the Rada when he was appointed Prosecutor General.

There was no sign of any trouble at all in Kiev. People ate ice cream, the market boomed, children carried balloons, young men and women supped on warmish beer, heat melted the asphalt, we dashed for shade, sweating buckets. After querying everyone we know, we can comfortably assert that Ukrainians are more worried about this unseasonable three weeks of unrelenting heat (95 degrees in the shade, but who’s counting?) than they are about the constitutional “crisis”. Troops were mobilized as “partisans” for both sides in this gritty standoff. On Saturday, President Yushchenko ordered 3,500 of his most loyal new police toward Kiev. They were stopped outside of Kiev by their colleagues, who remained loyal to Yanukovich (their boss’s boss just 48 hours earlier) – the traffic police.

I’m not a lawyer, but since no lawyers or judges are willing to come to firm decisions on these events, I’ll hazard that mobilizing troops and police for political purposes, as well as the President’s takeover of the Interior Ministry last week (which gave him the police and KGB/CIA-types, not all of whom were willing to switch their loyalty to him) are illegal acts. They are the most recent in a long pattern of questionable maneuvers that threaten to bore the Ukrainian voters into a stupor, if the heat doesn’t get them first.

The general opinion here is that these machinations have nothing – and I do mean nothing – to do with the people of Ukraine. The politicians are enriching themselves, making closed door deals, coddled by a complacent press and being childish. With Shakespeare, most here are of the opinion, “A pox on both their houses”.

We did see a fire in the outdoor market at the railroad station – the heat, perhaps aided by a careless smoker, ignited the insulation around a large pipe (propane?) – two firemen with tiny house-sized fire extinguishers managed to extinguish the 10- foot high flames as vendors quaffed Kbac (pronounced “k-vass”, a sweet non-alcoholic yeast drink) and fanned themselves in the heat barely 20 feet away. The flames probably created a welcome breeze.

Our own adventure was not yet over. We took an evening fast train to Khmelnetsky in western Ukraine, in the Podillya region – an area that is losing population as Ukraine’s emigration (particularly of young people) increases. Angela met us and took us to a lovely apartment in a dormitory. We even had a refrigerator, dishes, large windows and a porch! The next day was full – with meetings with faculty, I then taught two classes (one on creative writing, and one on the Constitution) as events swirled in Kiev – though none of us knew it yet. I gave the faculty and students a copy of the Ukrainian constitution, which none had read yet. This is common; it is not a well known or understood document.

After lunch in the faculty room of the school’s snack bar, we toured Khmelnetsky with six students. They practiced their English, showed us beautiful new glass malls, enormous yellow regional administration center in this capital city of about 140,000, fountains (with happy wet young men who agreed to let us take their photos) and quaint cobblestoned café- lined pedestrian walkways. We saw war memorials and an eternal flame, children’s playground and a bride. I almost bought a blouse. But the most surprising visit was to two small art galleries which feature regional painters. We bought two small oil paintings, one of a village (by E. Miller, a Ukrainian art professor in L’viv) and one of a cottage in autumn (by a Ukrainian artist named Demko). We both love both of these (which is good, since I did the final choice sans David).

The girls were charming, and were eager to meet us on Saturday morning for another tour. Alla and Marina had lunch with us and strolled through the parks – David’s solo tour the previous evening had netted a fine pub and a public band concert. The city sits on a lovely river (Buh) which Angela took us to later in the afternoon for a cool drink and a long talk. We so enjoyed all the people we met, and I hope to revisit the university if possible.

While on e-mail Friday night, David learned from a friend in America that there was trouble in Kiev. “Should I be worried?” David wrote? “Well the president has called in the troops”. Linda was already watching television footage when David returned. We watched TV for four hours, learning much Ukrainian as we attempted to understand the repeating images and decipher the reporters’ interpretations. However, the fact that the “breaking news” did not change for four hours led us to believe that events had stalled for the evening. They had: key figures met all night and all the following night to agree not to agree on a date for the next elections, then announced they had agreed. The press was happy, most people were mollified, and still, there is no official, clear, set in law and unchangeable DATE for an election. Life goes on in Ukraine as usual, and the politicians proceed apace.

This trip demonstrated once again how truly productive David and I can both be in difficult circumstances. We continued to work and write and network on trains and in cafes. I taught in 100 degree rooms where to turn on a light would be a huge mistake because of the heat it would generate. David jumped from pillar to post to grab e-mail connections, as he worked on several proposals for Stone Environmental, and I began the long awaited reading of the memoirs of Catherine the Great. We each wrote abstracts for a conference in L’viv (the conference begins on June 11, David’s first full day of being “shhhh-sixty”) and I planned my last class with my best students in Dnipropetrovsk.

We have taken three young students under our wings. They will spend the summer on a “work-travel” program at a shirt store in Provincetown – they fly on June 5. So we communicated with them from afar, planning yet another meeting to go over logistics (just how does one get from JFK to Provincetown with no money and little English?) before they leave. Our friend Olga is also planning a summer work sojourn – stay tuned for details.

We continue to swelter here. The entire day must be planned around survival in the heat. I’m about to find one of those polluted rivers and jump right in.

LBG

Cities Visited (Click to Enlarge)

 

Ukrainian Bulletin #12

May 17, 2007

David and I traveled to the Carpathian mountains in western Ukraine last week. I would like to describe that trip, and to tell you how it made me homesick.

Enough of city life. As exciting as it is, and as much as we love the trams, our hearts are really in the country. So as soon as the snow let up a bit, we went to the mountains and hired guides for four wonderful days of exploration and hiking.

The Carpathians are low mountains (6,000 feet) so we felt right at home. The economy is farming (mostly very small farms of one to five cows), lumbering and tourism (ditto). It is a place which was outside of many major world and national events of the past 100 years (you are talking my language). It also sports many different kinds of people, and at least five languages, which all seem to coexist and even to thrive together. Homesteads are lovely patches of the greenest green, with apple trees just blossoming and bees waking up. Enigmatic and colorful bee hives dot the yard. The family cow grazes next to the patio. The tiled stove holds treasures of pottery and embroidery, some more than 100 years old. The mountains in the near distance – they are just always there. It was, however, walking in pine forests next to streams which brought on a bout of homesickness.

There is a system of “home-stays” in this region, similar to our “B and Bs”. So we stayed in one home-stay for two nights, and another for two nights. This was a wonderful way to meet the local people (mostly, but not all, Hutsuls). Also, they fed us. Wow.

Our peak experiences on this trip, by far, were the three all-day hikes we did. Each was completely different. Each was equally wonderful. We had guides each day, which was well worth the (roughly) $80 per day cost. Guides could answer questions large and small, and also drove us to trailheads, and made sure we were equipped and safe.

The first was a steep climb to high mountain pastures near Verkovyna where 70-year-olds maintain a herd of five cows and probably some sheep. Water is from a well, hauled by hand. Still, this remote hut has electricity, grace a Stalin. I begged for mercy on this climb, but our local guide, Igor, helped us moving along. Great fun, spectacular views.

The second day we drove to a trailhead and climbed on a gradual set of fields and forest to Pip Ivash – a granite rock outcropping atop a mountain. We loved this hike, and we saw many, high elevation, mountain farmsteads. All had Stalin’s electricity. Our guideVasili reminded us of Lenin’s quote: “Communism is Socialism plus electricity”.

The third day we teamed up with friends Lisa and Chris Budzisz (both are Fulbrighters in Chernivitsi) and Vasili for a morning assault on Mt. Hoverla, Ukraine’s highest at just over 6,000 feet. The summit was snow-covered. We climbed 2,700 feet in two kilometers. We were pretty full of ourselves (and a bit winded) when we reached the summit, from which we could see several countries, and school groups (of 11 year olds) popping bottles of champagne to celebrate their climb. Don’t tell our sons, but several of these school groups lapped us on the ascent.

This steep but satisfying climb has become a tradition on August 24, Ukraine Independence Day.

The descent was exciting, as 11-year-olds love to glissade completely out of control, willing to take out any 40- or 50-year old who happens to be in their path (that would be us). We saw evidence of major avalanches and the snow-covered 60 meter waterfalls that make this area a scenic magnet.

Hutsul (mountain) folk have lots of crafts for sale, and I spent spare minutes cruising the booths near the Hoverla trailhead and the Vorokhta ski lift. This is a town where you can walk from your B and B to your ski lift. I did not take the ride in the chairlift, figuring climbing Hoverla was more of a “high” than any chairlift!

A long ride through Kosiv brought us to Vyzhnytsya, a former Jewish shtetl and an inspiration for Jewish folklore. Since the 1970s, Jews have emigrated to Israel en masse from these villages. Still, the former synagogue is recognizable (now a cultural center) and the slow pace of this narrow alley-ed village was a stroll through the past. Across the river is an Armenian village – remnants of an Armenian colony planted there. Different languages, dress, traditions and religions divide these neighboring towns.

Our visit to the city and university of Chernivitsi capped our trip. The university, built as a bishop’s residence, was extraordinary. We stepped inside a chapel which has been unchanged for 300 years, and heard recordings of choral music performed there every day. This bustling destination city for adventurous artsy Germans and Austrians was a delight, with baroque and Austrian influences at every turn.

Our train ride home deserves its own story – suffice it to say that drunken miners from Donetsk keep us awake and alert. We are readjusting to city life, and enjoying our last few weeks together here.

Next week we travel to Kiev (where we hope to see Ella Rezhnikova and her husband Bill, Ella was my student at Vermont College and now works at Karma Choling). Then we will go to Khmelnetsky (where I am the featured speaker – three times ---at an all day conference) and thence to Odessa. In Odessa, we will meet up with Bob and Mary Belenky, neighbors and friends from Marshfield. We are enjoying every minute, and think of you all often.


LBG

Ukraine Bulletin # 11

May 14, 2007

So, is the Orange Revolution fading to some kind of pale peach?

Ukraine seems to be at some kind of juncture between a tragedy of rising expectations and a stolid retrenchment in the good old days.

One of the problems for President Victor Yushchenko is that the Orange Revolution brought in taxes. The business community is taxed. This gets in the way of doing business! Another problem is that he talked in abstractions – voters wanted their pensions to go up. Soviet believers are severely disillusioned by modernism in its Ukrainian form. There is no guaranteed housing (as there was under the USSR). Pensions don’t cover rentals (400 hryvnias a month, including utilities – about $80).

The suicide rate is high among pensioners. They are prone to depression—which generally remains untreated—and alcoholism. The benefits they were promised, and worked for all their lives, have not been delivered. The evils they struggled against (say, capitalism) have brought a mixed bag of sex, drugs and rock ’n roll along with multinational corporations and a widening income gap. The very rich, in the former USSR, are very rich--a sad contrast to the old women who are hired to sweep (yes) the yards after winter, to collect bits of garbage, to sweep the sidewalks in front of a business of the winter’s dust and cigarette butts.

The just-under-60 set (our, ahem, contemporaries) is collecting money in trams, while they can still balance themselves in the lurching and sideways motion of these effective, efficient relics of the 60s.

The less literate are selling eggs or herbs, salads or underwear at the market. Cold, sometimes despondent, they stand for hours for a dollar or two in daily sales. There is a persistent rumor that the women begging with cups near the market are controlled by the Mafia. That they are not really poor. They are organized. They give half of what they collect to their “bosses”. When I suggested that the Mafia has no interest in small enterprises, and that they need a higher profit, here is the argument: “Those women can take in up to 15 hryvnias a day!” That’s about $3. I put this rumor in the category of an urban legend, a holdover from Soviet days when poverty had to be explained away by things like dissolute character, or underhanded deeds, or lassitude. There is no poverty in the Communist system.

Even during the first of three major famines, in 1921 (others were the deliberate starvation of Ukrainians in 1931-1933 by Stalin, and the post-WWII starvation in 1947), starving people did not complain, and bureaucrats would not have listened to complaints. People starved to death for about 18 months before international aid was received “from the United States, and others, which did help some.” To notice that the system wasn’t working must have been dangerous. Hungry residents in some towns did, however, riot, while they still had the energy to do so.

Modern scarcities, therefore, evoke deep fears. There was nothing on the shelves to buy for several years in the 1990s. Independence in 1991, and “wild capitalism”, and “democracy” were to blame. Those who could afford to do so, went to Poland or Moscow to get simple foods, necessities, and brought them back here by train. A few years ago, armed struggles between the Russian Mafia, the Dnipro Mafia and the Kiev Mafia erupted into a rash of brutal killings and an attempt to take over this city’s enormous central market with a private militia of enforcers, who stormed the place with guns – and there were deaths in that raid.

The city does not pretend to control this situation, in fact, someone in the local government is having his/her pockets lined for the hard work of looking away. Of all things to “privatize” – the market where the babushkas sell a few cups of peanuts? This means that entrepreneurship has a natural brake (protection money). When a person tries to begin a business, he or she pays protection money (which, in the end, did not really protect them). In fact, many of the vendors are paid to sit in a stall all day. These vendors don’t really care whether you buy from their stall or not – they may not even look up when you begin looking at their wares. In this period, bankers were shot point blank through their car windows. Contracted murders were common in the streets.

The oligarchs (wealthy, powerful, and manipulative) are the saviors of the desperate economic situation of the 1990s. In the view of people here, uncontrolled capitalism was an enormous failure. That is what led to empty shelves. In the absence of government regulation, oversight or control, the oligarchs “had to” step in, and now there is a generalized and centralized (and sub-legal) organization to the economy.

When I ask what brought on the Orange Revolution, economic disaster and an adherence to Soviet power politics are the conditions people here mention.

Today, the exigencies the majority felt in 2004 cannot be easily articulated. The Ukrainian constitution is on paper, but it is not widely available, it has not been read by many, and it is even less well understood. Most voters I talk with believe it has become a political football, and therefore, it will be revised to suit the political party with the loudest voice and the deepest pockets. The political horizons of the country are unclear. Ukrainian people, Ukrainian nation. Sovereignty and borders. Beyond that, the discussion gets fuzzy. Is nationhood simply a matter of borders and an army to maintain them? Is there more to it? Stay tuned.

LBG

Ukraine Bulletin #10

May 12, 2007

I have begun to be able to recognize some of the areas outside cities which were killing grounds in World War II. The university complex I teach in on Tuesdays and Thursdays is located on one of these. The sites I have seen look unusually flattened, and often, have no trees growing on them. Nearby trees are not more than 50 years old. There is a steep gully near or below these sites – people were shot at the top of the hill, and fell to the bottom. Often, they are on a major road out of the city, or near a rail line. Sometimes, they are near or in a trash heap or dump. But these spots are oddly vacant – in a booming city where real estate is valuable. It is this loneliness, or the “left-alone-ness” that is the first clue about these sites.

There are a few monuments at the university about this site – one in Hebrew, and several in Russian. The flattened area is now a soccer field. Owners of small farms graze their goats on the hillside of the gully.

Wartime crimes are easily blamed on the Nazis here, although the Red Army, the Nazis, and local guerrilla groups all performed executions and mass murders. What is difficult to comprehend is that these persecutions of one group or another, but persistently, of Jews, had been carried out for at least two hundred years before WWI. This displacement, starvation, persecution or murder of groups of individuals (celebrated famously for Americans in “Fiddler on the Roof”) was an early-modern form of social engineering. It was carried out transparently, efficiently and ruthlessly.

I have thought often about “Fiddler on the Roof”. It presents in a jaunty, spirited way, historic decades of immense complexity, not “events” but cultural trends of wide scope, bolstered by deep-seated philosophy.

Ukrainians cannot think of groups of individuals who have been persecuted here. After prompting, they mention the elders, veterans, and perhaps, handicapped children. What about the Jews? “There is no persecution against the Jews. They are wealthy! Wealthier than our families! They do very well! So you see, there is no discrimination.” And if we think back about sixty years ago – what was the life of a Jewish family then? “Then, in Stalin’s time, it was not so good. But it was bad for all religions then. Any religious practice was forbidden. So you see, it was not specifically against the Jews.

Some Jewish Ukrainians have done very well indeed in above-board and not so transparent businesses in Ukraine. The third richest person in Ukraine is a Jewish bazillionaire turned benefactor of the arts, Victor Pinchuk (who, at 45, also rates as 12th richest person in Eastern Europe and the 645th richest person in the world, with $1.2+ billion).

Ukrainian history in the twentieth century is particularly tortured, with neighbor killing neighbor in certain regions. The only political stability in this century has been under the Soviets. Compromise is not a skill politicians have learned. The standoff of the president and prime minister (April 2007) is astonishing for the absence of creative thinking or proposals of compromise.

It is beyond hardball politics – hardball (as we know it) doesn’t even begin to describe the methods used. Extortions, bribes, murder, silencing, payoffs, “baksheesh”, are all considered “fair” play. As a result, politics here looks more like war. The casualties of poisonings and assassinations are considered not extraordinary in this setting.

Viewed in this light, blood in the street is the next logical step. It would be a very dangerous one – not just for the demonstrators, but for the country. One side (the president) could declare martial law and call in the military. The other (the Rada – Parliament -- and prime minister) control the national and local and special police. The scenario could quickly explode. Such violence would distract handily from the war-like tactics of national leaders.

And, most people are quite calm and dismissive about those dire possibilities. In the past few weeks since the initial constitutional crisis, we have become the same. Legally, the country is in a precarious state. Many important things hinge on the outcome. But the apple blossoms came (and went), the peonies are budding, and school is almost over. The weather is fantastic. Everyone has just had a marvelous long holiday. Why worry?

As I update this and get ready to put it on the blog, I have just taught my last history class for this academic year. It was an open question-and-answer session. Students do not know how to ask questions, so I posed a few and asked if they wanted to know about these things. They said yes. So, says I, then you will have to ask me.

Eventually, they asked about what Americans know and think about Ukraine. I went through the normal litany (Yalta, Chernobyl, Ukrainian “girls”, soccer players) and then mentioned the Orange Revolution. They laughed. Undaunted, I told them that most American believe Victor Yushchenko was poisoned in 2004. They snickered and laughed. I explained that Americans believe the doctors’ reports from Switzerland about the poisoning, and, given all the evidence, they believe that someone associated with Yushchenko or with Putin was behind the poisoning, and that the methods used were KGB methods. They could hardly contain their mirth. I mentioned a few journalists who had been found dead, and a critic famously poisoned in London.

Well, just think how gullible these Americans must be!!

We moved on to one other thing Americans know about Ukraine. American Jews know a lot of detailed information about the villages and towns their families came from. More laughter and rolling of eyes. My friends, when they learned I was going to Ukraine, told me that their grandparents came from Ukraine, and told me exactly where, and what their family remembered about Ukraine. Some American synagogues sponsor synagogues in Ukraine. Social services are provided by synagogues here for poor Ukrainian Jews. Yes, Jews can be poor.

So, the idea that Jews are rich (and don’t need help) is a pervasive one. The idea that nothing extraordinary happened here about persecution of minorities, is also pervasive. In this setting, it is hard to “teach” history.


LBG

The Importance of Being Earnest

Shakespeare in Dnipropetrovsk

Easter Sunday Food Blessing

Ukraine Bulletin #9

April 17, 2007

Our weather here is quite different from that on the East Coast. Trees are leafing out, peonies are six inches high, and violets are blooming. We even saw some grass that needs mowing (we assume it is over a broken sewer).

We have a long university holiday coming up – two early May holidays combine to “the May holidays” – I have no classes to teach from April 27 to May 14. We also have two conferences (near Donetsk in Horlivka, and in Yalta) on either side of the longer holiday, and one during it (Kiev).

So our schedule is becoming quite exciting. David is returning to the U.S. for a meeting in New York State, so he will be home from April 26 to May 2. He can be reached at his work phone, 802 229 1879. Right now it looks like this: April 20 to Horlivka, April 22 to Kharkhiv, April 23 return home to Dnipropetrovsk. David to Kiev then Frankfurt then NY April 25. Linda to have fun with day trips over the weekend. Philharmonic concert here on April 30. May 1 or 2 to Odessa, return home May 4, May 9 to western Ukraine (Chernivitsi) – perhaps some hiking. Return home May 14. May 25 to Yalta, return home May 30. Early June, we go to L’viv again. This all is subject to change…

Two sets of friends, Ella Rezhnivkova and Bill, and Mary and Bob Belenky, are traveling around Ukraine in May and June – we hope to connect with them if schedules permit.

Fifteen men with jackhammers and wheelbarrows are digging a deep trench in front of our building for thick electric wires (and perhaps other cables??). The trench uncovers old bricks probably placed in the fill around this building 60-70 years ago. Those are being removed and placed to the side. We think this may be to deliver more electricity to the six-story building being constructed up one block from us, but we hope that it is better Internet access for the entire neighborhood. Time will tell.

We have passed the half-way mark of our time here in Ukraine. It is hard to believe, as we feel we are just “getting started”. We now have a busy round of talks and presentations (and more to come), and a growing group of trusted friends and acquaintances. David is being tapped by engineers and planners here.

We finally have the work set up that we want – two desks and two computers, a printer/Xerox, and fairly reliable medium-speed Internet access. We also have “basic” cable TV, which has BBC World (24 hours news and features in English) and Deutsch television, which runs a couple of hours of English programming per day. We also get local and national television stations, in Russian and Ukrainian. These include Animal Planet and National Geographic nature shows, along with the usual drek – even “Ukrainian Idol”. Our lack of language doesn’t distract too much from an enjoyment of the visuals in these shows! We are still taking language lessons, and are at the beginning conversation stage.

My students here are mostly young women – about three or four women per one man in the classroom. They are very curious about life in the United States, what U.S. teenagers and college students do, and what our cities are like. They asked about elevated highways and skyscrapers. They asked why we have God on our currency if we have separation of church and state. They ask about our families, our pets and our houses.

Their professors have one overriding question: Are our students as well prepared as the students you teach in the United States? The answer is a modified yes and a modified no. There is really no comparison between the two systems. And there is almost no way for students in Ukraine to “learn” about Western culture and scholarship as they grow up (except through movies, music, fashion etc.). So students here miss out on what in the United States would be called “general knowledge” – being aware of the (wider) world around them. Ukrainian students are, of course, aware of the world around them (and in that respect, I have a lot to learn from them) but that world is a different world.

In terms of scholarship outside the former Soviet Union, they have almost no way to access those books and journals. There are almost no computers in universities (the schedule is written out by hand, weekly, for a university of 30,000 students, for instance). The libraries are closed stacks, and “recent” books are from the 1930s. Budgets do not allow for many acquisitions of new materials. Textbooks are unknown --- only the professors have these. Each department has only a few books or textbooks, and the professors have to share them with each other. There is no “LEXUS/NEXUS” or any similar service – and if it did exist, there would be virtually no way to access it on campus. The one “computer lab” I have seen has about 25 computers – not enough for thousands of students.

Many students have computers at home, only a few of these have Internet access at home. So research is limited to official sources, old books, and brief expensive forays into Google. It is not unusual to see a business student reading a text book on “Finances” written in the 1920s.

It is also not unusual to see a market vendor reading an old book which has probably gone through 100 hands or more. Even current magazines, at 8 hryvnia (about $1.50), are luxuries which are out of range for many readers. A woman who sold me a wonderful jacket in the huge Azerka market here is a graduate of the International Economics department at the National University. She is about my age.

Given these limitations, the students are doing very well. This lack of information is not something they can take a workshop for and get “up to speed”. They have sharp, quick minds, and excellent critical thinking skills in areas of thought where they are allowed to question. However, if a topic is touchy or dangerous, they display no interest or no capability. This is a mask, well engrained in the adult population as well.

More limiting, perhaps, is the fact that they really have no idea what information could be available or is available. Things we might consider to be widely available (the federal budget, the proceedings of the legislature, literature, news, annual reports of organizations) are unknown here. I brought four or five such resources (US Govt. Statistics for 2006 – a thick tome, annual report of the ACLU, annual report of Human Rights Watch, annual report of Amnesty International). The last two contain country by country comparisons. Of course, the students flip quickly to Ukraine to see what is said, barely recognizing that the comments on every country are available to them.

An epistemological problem is that “Ukraine” is not a way to search for information about this country 1700-1991. At best, Ukraine is treated as a region of Russia. So any academic search, or any index, contains very few references to “Ukraine” per se. Websites with information about Ukraine are being developed now, but none can match a thorough finding aid to scholarly sources. Few people I meet are aware of the Ukrainian Studies programs in the United States (which have compiled resources and archives) or of how to trace a topic through decades of (non-Russian language) scholarly journals.

Still, the vibrancy in the classrooms of good professors is, as always, inspiring. Our friend Lyudmyla is extraordinary in this regard. Her students adore her, and with good reason.

David and I just returned from the National Mining University’s English Department’s Spring theatrical production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” and Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” (both in somewhat shortened form). Enthusiastic young people, costumes, humor, grace. We were the honored guests, and the jury of an essay contest – swept up in the fun.

The news this week from Virginia is very sad. It is perhaps difficult, at time like this, to realize that in classrooms all over the country and all over the world, wonderful things are happening, and people are learning.


Linda

Ukraine Bulletin #8

April 4, 2007

Things are exciting in Ukraine these days. We are far from the action in Kiev, but there are nightly reports about gathering demonstrations there. This is a constitutional crisis and a power struggle (and many other things) all rolled into one. It is difficult to sort out fact from rumor.

Viktor Yushchenko, the president (elected in the Orange Revolution of 2004) has lost most of his power (and charisma). The Prime Minister (defeated in 2004) and the Rada (uni-cameral parliament) have out-maneuvered him all fall, passing laws stripping him of his powers. He has not gathered enough support in the Rada to block these moves. They don’t have enough votes to impeach him.

So he acted first. Claiming that their political maneuvers have been unconstitutional, he signed a decree to dissolve the Rada. They have continued to meet in the parliament building, as crowds gather outside.

The Rada has asked the Constiutional Court (roughly, our Supreme Court) to rule on the constitutionality of the president’s decree. They have been placed under a deadline (by the Rada?) of three days. They are disinclined to act. They have not ruled yet on the dozens of such cases filed by each side in the past 12 months or so.

Most telling is the reactions of the people we meet or no. Here, most support the Prime Minister, and are disdainful of (or bitterly disappointed in) the President. They do not believe that the poisoning of Yushchenko in 2004 was intentional, nor that it can be pinned on his opposition (or, ultimately, on the KGB and President Putin of Russia). They counter that it could have been a disease, like herpes, which appeared suddenly on his face. There are many such competing theories.

If any do believe he was poisoned by his political opponent, they do not say so aloud (at least here in Dnipropetrovsk).

The signing of the decree of dissolution of parliament stunned the adults we know. When they heard the news, their faces blanched. They are worried about military reprisals (or, reprisals by the internal police) if the demonstrations turn violent. They believe that provocateurs could pay others to begin violence, and that the violence would be used as a justification by one side or the other to impose martial law, or worse. So far, the military has said that it will act according to the Constitution, and that means they are loyal to the President as commander in chief. The Prime Minister and the Rada believe they are in control of the “internal affairs” police.

People we know here have stopped ignoring “those crazy politicians” in Kiev as they have for the past few months. Television aired an extraordinary overnight session of the Rada, and now, local and national channels, BBC and other news organizations are providing updates frequently on this fast-moving situation. The students were talking quite energetically in the hallways yesterday – most are opposed to Yushchenko and support the other Viktor (Yanukovich, the Prime Minister). The politician who stands to gain here is Julia Tymonenko, the charismatic blond with braids wrapped around her head. “They are fake. Everything about her is fake.” “But her hair is so beautiful.” “And that is the ONLY thing to admire.”

The new parliamentary election has been called for May 27. The Rada is mobilizing to call a presidential election. To do this, they need to impeach Yushchenko, find him incapable of leading by reason of health, or, for Yushchenko to resign. They cannot impeach him if they are dissolved.

So, that is the update from here. I hope you are well, and enjoying the melt.

Linda

Ukraine Bulletin # 7

March 22, 2007

I’m learning so much here. My Russian is improving, and I am beginning to read Cyrillic, which is hard. Each day is a big day, and Ukraine is changing so fast that all current guidebooks are already out of date. Anyway, this is the former Soviet Union, for sure. That said, it is a place that seems to be “riding two horses”. Small businesses (un-permitted, unregulated, uninspected, probably untaxed) are popping up everywhere – on milk crates on the sidewalks, in basements. My impressions are probably mistaken, but as far as I can tell, the state (i.e. Ukraine) owns more than 99 percent of the land. It is an astounding thing, and I can’t quite understand it. People own houses, but they lease the land the houses sit on for a small amount, from “the state”.

There is trash, literally, everywhere. Dumps are open pits or gullies, and as far as I can figure out, trash is never collected from the overflowing dumpster bins. It is an efficient form of recycling, as cats, ravens, rats (though I haven’t seen any), sparrows and dogs tear open the bags and eat the contents. People do, too, and I’ve taken to separating out the trash that could be people food, and putting it in a box to the side of the dumpster, weighted down by a couple of returnable bottles (redemption is less than one cent). It’s always gone the next day. So to “pick up” the trash would be to deprive these creatures of their food source. Still, plastic bags fly around everywhere, and get stuck in trees like kites.

I’m guessing that the trash isn’t collected because it’s no one’s responsibility to do so, and there’s no punishment for heaping it up as high as you like. It’s an odd thing that makes me want to put plastic bags on my hands and PICK IT UP! Or start a Green- Up Day. I’ve looked up the history of the anti-litter campaign in the United States, surely one of the most successful public information campaigns ever. It began in 1953 with a national commission. Arbor Day began in the late 1800s, in Nebraska, with one fellow who thought it would be a good idea to plant trees.

The city I’m in has many bazillionnaires, ritzy clubs and dance halls, Mercedes-Benzes. So far I’ve seen more posh cars than tractors, even though I’ve traveled through farmland by train. About two miles from the city, there are no cars to be seen. There are apparently horse carts, but I saw no horses. I did see one fellow walking his bike, with pirated firewood strapped on it.

We are downstream from Chernobyl – about six hours by fast train. But even here, there have been effects of the radiation. For instance, for two years, no cucumbers grew (a problem which locals attribute to “acid rain” connected with the radiation). Many people have had respiratory problems that won’t go away; others have seriously inflamed thyroids. Since Chernobyl, they don’t eat the river fish, and those who can afford to buy water don’t drink the tap water. Certainly Chernobyl is not the only source of the pollution. Sewage, medical and industrial waste, and heavy metals go directly into the river, and thence out to the Black Sea. The beaches around Odessa, once gorgeous, are now trashed with garbage and sewage and not recommended for swimming..

So, the vodka makes sense. It must kill a lot of things.

As I expected, the people I have met don’t understand that American farms can fail, and do. They don’t know much about our unemployment rates or lack of health insurance. They don’t know much about rural America, or that we have homeless people. In fact, a list of what they are not aware of is a good indicator of what Hollywood, MTV and now the Internet are really not depicting at all. I’m hoping to visit a hospital and an orphanage soon. No one can really tell me where the poor in this city live. There are sheds and odd corners that seem to be occupied. And the train station in Kiev was filled to the brim with sleeping homeless people one cold winter night last month.

Under the Soviet system, every family was guaranteed a place to live. I don’t know if they paid for it. But now that Ukraine has “free” enterprise, rents are skyrocketing. It must be galling to pay for something your government promised you for free. One pensioner cannot live in this city because his pension is 350 hryvnias a month (he was an engineer) – about $70. Rent in an apartment, with utilities, would be $80. He lives in a farmhouse outside of town, and is depressed, practically friendless, and sees no purpose to his life. He is nostalgic for the old days, when the government was predictable.

This city is filled with high-end European fashion boutiques and cosmetic shops. It’s somewhat comforting to see that these stores have almost no customers, and the salesgirls spend their time on their cell phones and fixing their hair. One cotton sleeveless button-down shirt, designer made, but could be bought in Wal-Mart for $4.99, was $200. There are outrageously gorgeous malls here, run by the Dnipro Mafia. We are told that is why the malls are good, and carry good produce. Capitalism is seen here as a crashing failure which led to nothing on the store shelves. Under the Mafia, you see, things get delivered and paid for.

The Mafia jumped into a vacuum left by a new government that can’t seem to govern. The parliament is filled with “millionaires”. Many of the members are young, too. What do they know? Still, one can’t help wishing the Mafia would take over trash collection.

So I’m busy planting window boxes to counteract the gray post-winter scene. I don’t have a green thumb but I’m trying not to kill the plants.

Linda

Ukraine Bulletin #6

March 3, 2007

I awoke this morning to find that the tree – perhaps an ash?—out in front of our building which shades our balcony, had been stripped of its bark in the night. I’m guessing it was used for fuel in the night. Now I understand why so many trees have deep scars up to about six feet high, even when they are not near roadsides. This week I watched a woman try for a half hour to unscrew a piece of metal from a septic tank. She finally succeeded, and to fill the hole, kindly shoved a black plastic bag in place of the piece she had removed. These pieces of metal are sold at the market each day. An elderly couple sells onions, potatoes, beets and cabbage on a box at our quiet corner, all day, almost every day. They use a scale and weights. I am constantly reminded of how resourceful human beings can be. There must be a kind of intelligence (would that be the eighth?) developed in conditions of scarcity, fear and duplicity.

I decided to plant flowers in our backyard when the weather gets nicer. I mentioned this to a friend, and asked if it was ok to do so, and who owned the enclosed yard. “No one owns it.” “The city owns it.” “Don’t do that, because no one owns it.” I thought of the little triangle at the three-way stop in Maple Corner where Robin Meiklejohn cultivated a public garden years ago. Robin’s gift to the village has been repeated many times in the past 25 years, by those who live near that triangle. Who owns it? The town or county, I suppose, as it is in a right of way.

But here, I am quite silly for wanting to plant flowers in the yard. The fear is that they would be stolen the next night, and sold by 10 a.m. The entire city – really the country – has been condominium-ized. The land is publicly held, but the buildings or apartments in those buildings can be owned. The land is leased—from the city? From the district? The nation? There are two evident problems created by this system. People abandon buildings. The state loses its revenue; the buildings crumble. Second, there are no condominium fees, no provision for maintenance of commonly owned areas. People dig trenches to plant cables, lift the lids off sewers and sell them for the metal, pull down trees, and strip bark.

I have brought many books with me. In addition to books about Ukraine, and some history texts and atlases, I have brought novels or memoirs about the former USSR and its client states. Grief of my Heart: Memoir of a Chechen Surgeon; The places in between, about a solo trek across Afghanistan; Caravans by Michener; Fools Rush In, about a journalist in Bosnia; Inside the Hornet’s Nest, an anthology of Jewish American writing; Dancing Under the Red Star, the story of an American woman in a Soviet prisons and the gulag; The Memoirs of Catherine the Great; a biography of Alexander II; a history of Slovakia; an anthology of contemporary Russian writers translated into English By reading these books, I can get a sense of how USSR’s policies affected different regions and individuals.

Reading these books helps me understand the bare oozing wound on the tree. Although several non-Ukrainians have written evocatively about the recent history of Ukraine, very little of this kind of recent reflective history of Ukraine by Ukrainians has been translated into English – if it exists at all.


On a lighter note, I have discovered the difference between inexpensive vodka and the good stuff. When you lay the good vodka in your freezer, it is still there the next day. With the inexpensive bottle, if you lay it down, it dribbles out the neck of the bottle, forms congealing vodka and finally, having evaporated, vodka flavored ice crystals on the freezer floor. The bottle lost about five ounces this way though the cap was screwed on very tight. Honest.

Hope you all are well.
Linda

Ukraine Bulletin #5

March 2, 2007

I have just finished my first full week of teaching. Although I am teaching “10 hours” a week, it turns out that an “academic” hour is only 40 minutes long. Did I pick the right field, or what!?! Sometimes the classes don’t meet, and we don’t make up the time. So far this doesn’t feel like a terribly difficult schedule. Tuesday, 12:40-2 p.m., Wednesday 12:40 -2 p.m., Thursday 2-5 p.m. The classes are relatively small – 10-20 students in each of them. The largest class cannot read or write English, so (ah shucks) I have no “correcting”to do, and their “final project” will have to be some kind of group effort. In that class (American Social History) I have a translator, so an hour lesson is really a half hour. This means I don’t need to do too much preparation. Another class has no final exam. So this feels like a very easy workload.

I’ve already been asked to other universities to do a lecture or teach a class. However, I prefer to keep those commitments to occasional visits, as I think I should “dance with the one that brung me”. My Wednesday English conversation classes are designed to meet some of these requests (at a time that is convenient to me). I did teach a class of upper level students who are learning to teach English, and pointed them toward Emily Dickinson (“There is a certain slant of light”) and Robert Frost (“The Road Not Taken”), which they will look up on the Internet and read.

Still, it is astounding to see how many universities, institutes, law schools, technical schools, medical schools, private colleges and so on are in this city. Many of them are housed in grand buildings with pillars, marble steps, tall ceilings, large windows, decorated plaster and so on. I would guess these buildings date to about 1890-1910 or so.

The universities are really not in the digital age yet. Very complex schedules are written out by hand (for the whole university), on an almost weekly basis. There seems to be very little administrative oversight as the buildings are quite separated from each other, all around the city. In some ways, this decentralization gives a tremendous amount of latitude to faculty as far as course content and scheduling. The faculty have department meetings, but no university-wide committees, for example. They are trying to conform with the Bologna Process, by which their educational system would meet European standards. One practical result has been that a department that once awarded two diplomas (Psychology and English) to each student, now can only award one (Psychology), with a “certificate” in English. Each department has English faculty attached to it, and these faculty teach general English as well as terms specific to the profession for which the students are training.

The psychology department is not happy about this change, as they wanted their students to receive recognition for their English skills and achievement. They were perplexed when I told them about double majors, which is a subtlety that hasn’t quite trickled down to them yet. Psychology students are not happy about the change, either, as it happened after they had enrolled and when some were ready to graduate. I mentioned our system which generally includes a safeguard for a student who enters a university under one set of policies (if those policies change, the student is only held to the requirements stated in the year he/she entered) as well as the general practice of not significantly altering the name or content of the degree in midstream. This seemed incomprehensible to the faculty – they simply don’t have that kind of control over the degrees they offer.

It is perpetual April here, with the ugliness of post winter. It is mild (30s and 40s) and no snow. I plan to plant flowers on our balcony for a bit of cheeriness – the whole city could use some beautification. The parks, avenues and river are beautiful in the spring or summer, but many of the buildings are grim and gray. There is some construction going on, but there are also many unused buildings. This could be a great city for artists to move to, as there is space for studios and galleries. Many enormous buildings contain a sort of permanent indoor mini mall – kiosks and booths selling everything from jewelry to Xerox services. The exterior of the buildings doesn’t really indicate what is inside them, however. It has taken me a while to realize I will never know what is going on in a building unless I go in the doors. The building we are in, for instance, gives no hint of the lovely apartment we have.

There is something here that I can’t quite put my finger on, about not demonstrating wealth or possessions. Everyone carries plastic shopping bags around town – these could contain onions or diamonds and no one would be able to tell the difference. It seems as though a spiffed-up building might just invite vandalism or resentment. This is an odd contrast, for me anyway, with the thousands of women wearing gorgeous fur coats, hats, and all the lovely boots, gloves etc to match. To my eyes these furs look like a confident display of wealth.

Only about ten years ago, there was nothing on the shelves to buy. Travelers write of going into mom and pop stores to find a shelf of homemade pickles in jars. Those with enough money traveled to Kiev or even Moscow to purchase simple food items. This problem is attributed to “wild capitalism” after the 1991 dissolution of the Soviet Union. Systems of supply, storage and delivery had to be initiated and implemented. Eventually, businesses began cultivating contacts for bread, milk, eggs, meat, etc.

One Western indulgence that has transferred to Ukraine whole-cloth is the cosmetics industry. It is astonishing that every item you could want is here in beautiful gleaming stores. Fashion and beauty are worth paying for, apparently. I can’t find toner for my printer (I’m sure it is somewhere in the city) but I can get all the creams and makeup I could want (and then some). The women’s styles are quite high on the urban femininity scale. A bit hard to describe: spike heels designed to out-Condoleeza Condoleeza, tight see-through tops, spectacular (often visible) underwear, net stockings, short skirts, black leather everything, waists tightly belted with enormous belt buckles, fingernails with entire landscapes painted on them, tight pants, flowing coats, and certain very, very Ascot-y hats.

The female comrade in blue work clothes sitting on a tractor and smiling as she works is nowhere to be found.

I heard an interesting saying this week: “Kiev is the first city in Ukraine, but Dnipropetrovsk is not the second.” Kiev has politics, more museums, more churches, and the best university. Dnipropetrovsk has wealth. Many Dnipro-ites see this as a clear choice, and are eager to stay here and join the bustling business life.

I hope you all are well and enjoying winter!
Best,
Linda

Ukraine Bulletin #4

February 20, 2007

Well, I taught my first class today. I had about 17 students, and two professors sat in on the class, too. We did some ice breaking exercises and a short in-class writing assignment. We discussed class expectations and academic honesty and the syllabus. The students also contributed to a discussion, so I feel we are off to a good start. My full schedule (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoons) begins next week.

Mud season is here. It’s hard to believe we will get much more snow. The weather is warm-ish (25-35 or so Fahrenheit). There is garbage and litter everywhere. We haven’t figured out if there is any regular pick-up or clean up.

Yesterday I met with the history department and we had a good discussion of their system, research possibilities and obstacles, and their future plans for conferences. I have brought many books and resources which I hope will be useful to them.

I plan to travel around Ukraine on weekends – I might start this weekend as David flies home Thursday. I can visit other Fulbrighters around the country. It is a huge country, though, and some visits will take 12-24 hours by fast train!

There have been some surprising bits of information.

Most of the rural land here is owned by Ukraine. The farmers lease their land, but they cannot buy it or own it (yet). Imagine a country having that resource and wealth all tied up in land. What an opportunity! But also, how to “allow” farmers to buy their land? Apparently, they cannot get loans to do so.

Students often go to a university, then attend graduate school there, defend their dissertation there, and begin teaching as a professor in the same university. In other words, they defend their dissertation, become a professor, and are pretty automatically hired. So they know the university well when they begin teaching there. Needless to say, the faculty know them well, too.

I am teaching in the International Relations Department (among others), in International Economics. From what I can gather, it is an international business and marketing degree, although they do study economics, as well. The same department keeps track of foreigners and exchange students in the university, and acts as an arm of the Ministry of Internal Affairs (i.e., the police). I register with them, and they know my whereabouts.

We have found the “Window on America” at the local library, which has books, CDs, VHS and DVDs in English – all can be checked out. They also have audio-visual equipment, a boom box, Internet access, printing and Xeroxing. They function as a meeting place, and have a nice seminar table. Although it has limited hours, it is quieter and less smoky than the Internet cafes and wireless malls. It was ironic to finally find it one morning, only to see that the “Window on America” was locked with a huge padlock. It is funded by the U.S. Embassy, in case you wanted to know where .00005 percent of your tax dollar goes.

We also now have cable television, including BBC, National Hockey League Games, and German public television. In fact, we’re not sure exactly what we have, as we need to scan the channels and see. David’s watching something about rugby or “football”(soccer).

Update, February 19: David is home in Vermont now for a few weeks. He can be reached at 802 229 1879. The best way to reach us in Ukraine is our gmail addresses: linda.b.gray@gmail.com and healy.david.j@gmail.com.

We’d love to hear from you!

Linda

Ukraine Bulletin # 3

Ukraine Bulletin #3
February 2, 2007

Greetings from Dnipropetrovsk!

We arrived yesterday, and are now ensconced in our lovely apartment. It is spacious, and it is equipped with everything, including dishes, soap, TV, trash bags, linens, towels – far more comfort than we expected. It has a security code at the outside door, and two locks on the very solid door. So, there is a lot to get used to. We have stairwell neighbors, but we have not met them yet. There is also a backyard with trees, sheds, an assortment of vents and heating conduits, a trash heap, and plenty of room to play. This morning, a snow lady appeared in the back yard, with wild stick hair. Pigeons and crows live in the trees, and the pigeons are fond of resting on our broad window sills. They are fun to watch. I suppose they believe we are vegetarians.

It has a large kitchen/den/dining room with natural light from two large windows. The bedroom is also large, and has a large window and a balcony looking out on the street – a quiet side street just a short block off a major city road. A desk is in the bedroom…..David colonized it right away.

We went shopping on our way “home” from the airport, so we have enough food to make simple meals, tea, coffee. Lyuda (“Luda”) kindly supplied us with good fresh bread. David is out to the market now, exercising his bargain hunting skills.

Winter is here, finally. After a very warm winter (or, as a new acquaintance, Olga, told us, “a never-ending autumn”), Ukraine got cold weather and snow for the last week. Today it is about 20-30 degrees Fahrenheit, with a biting wind gusting up to about 40 miles per hour. The airport had six inches of snow, and winds about 35 miles per hour. Not much plowing there, and none in the city at all. We felt right at home, brown slush, slick walkways, treacherously icy sidewalks, snow falling so thickly you couldn’t see anything, low cloud cover. Lyuda and her friend, Vladimir, met us and drove us home. Later Vladimir’s son, Dmitri, came with the landlord’s son (also Dmitri), to tell us about the washing machine, heat, and so on.

So, we are wearing all the winter gear we have, and can layer with more fleeces if we need to. And the “old lady’s” crampons I brought will come in handy! Olga, an English professor at the university, came today at noon and we walked downtown. We had lunch, and then rode back in a jitney bus – very cosy and convenient. The city has trams and busses, too, and, of course, is on a major rail line, so David is in public transit heaven.

On our way here, we stopped for three nights in Paris, and three nights in Vienna. Each city was exhilarating and enjoyable, but in totally different ways. We stayed with my French sister Cathie and her husband, son, and dog in Chaville, just outside Paris. We had a warm weekend of catching up, solving problems, chatting, and, of course, wonderful meals. Their living room has both a fireplace and an organ (her husband, Jean Paul, plays organ beautifully) so each evening was a fire, some organ music and white wine … we felt very spoiled.

In Vienna, we stayed in Hotel Regina, and walked all over the city, taking the occasional tram so David could get his transit addiction fix. We spent several hours in the incredible Kunst Historische museum. We devoted our time to the paintings, although, if we had weeks, we could not have seen everything in the museum. Vienna has 180 museums (can this be true?), including one of carriages, one of globes, one of Jewish life in Vienna, and one of Sigmund Freud’s house. Our visit coincided with Vienna’s ball season – 300 balls over a six-week period. There are several per night, and they occur on weekends and on weekdays! We also took a bus tour to the emperor’s summer palace – 1,400 rooms, an enormous cobbled yard, ornate buildings, spectacular gardens. Think Versailles. It includes also a zoo and several other attractions. It is a monument to the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s opulence and glory. The rooms are on an enormous scale, with gilt everywhere. We went to the Volksoper (to see “Carmen”) the Statsoper (“Falstaff”) and to see an ice festival on the front lawn of the city hall. Colored lights, open air bars, restaurants where skaters entered with their skates on, ice rinks, a competitive curling match (complete with a beer hall), a skating path through the trees, music. Everyone was having a dandy time, and all ages were there. The festival continues night and day, so there are many kids there during the day, as well, learning to skate by leaning on a penguin who has handles coming out of his head where his “ears” should be.

I had a good time working on both French and German during these visits, and found my German was actually adequate for most situations. I read the Vienna newspapers! David improved in both languages, too. Now we are both adding Russian to the mix. Our first tutoring session is Sunday.

We don’t have high speed Internet at the apartment. There are nearby Internet cafes and clubs. We are exploring these. Our Vonage phone is not in service yet. These are all challenges that David is taking on. He hopes to solve them by mid-February. For now, we can be reached by telephone at our apartment (011 380 056 744 3001 – please don’t call after 2 p.m., Eastern Standard Time) or by e-mail at our regular e-mail address.

Thursday, February 8 we go to Kiev for a Fulbright orientation. We will also have little tours around the city and the US embassy there. Four heavy boxes of books have been shipped from Calais to the embassy. So we will check on the status of those boxes next weekend. We are not overly optimistic, however. We shipped a box by air and one by sea in late December (US postal service) and neither has arrived yet. I must say that we feel perfectly at home here – we are unpacked and all settled in. We are quickly figuring out the obvious things. The more subtle things may take a while to learn.

Hope you all are well.

Best,

Linda