Settling In

Well, hello again.

This week was one of emotional ups and downs, laughter and tears. The sightseeing ended and REAL life began! And it was like a dip in a cold pool. Sorry this is really long, but I wanted to share a lot with you! I hope you can find time to read it all.

School began on Sunday, with a ceremony for the parents and students at the new campus, forty five minutes from the city. Think glorified open house, times ten. There was a brass band playing on the steps as we arrived, balloon arches everywhere, diplomats and other prominent people "milling", and eight Americans looking very lost. There was a ribbon cutting ceremony, and then we all poured inside to meet the teachers and look around. The students and their parents disappeared after a few hours, and the teacher show began. The teachers bored us with two hours of Russian a "teacher talent show". Education majors will understand that we were nearly dead by then, except that there was red and white wine a plenty on the tables before us, so at least we were relaxed. Teachers and students returned on Monday morning. There are only two of us from the states teaching at Zeitsova, the new campus. Leah and I ride the bus together and pretty much spend everyday together because we understand each other! I won’t tell you every detail of the week, well, because I don’t want you to endure any amount of the torture that I did. So here’s the overview of what I learned/realized this week.

The goal of Russian society seems to be to defy all logic. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when you are tired and confused anyway, it can be incredibly frustrating. On the third day of classes, the head of the department came to me at 5:55 p.m. and told me I had an entirely new schedule. The bus left at 6:00 p.m., and I didn’t want to miss it, so I briefly looked at it and was immediately discouraged. To give you the short of it, I now teach parts of first, second, third, fourth, and fifth grade, and Leah does the same, but she has preschool instead of fifth grade. Like I said, just illogical. When I tried to get on the bus, I think they told me I couldn’t. That is one good thing about not knowing the language, you can claim ignorance in dire times. I wanted to be home, and it would be another two hours if I had to wait for the next bus. So I crowded on, standing on the stairs. Teachers were crammed five and six to four seats across; I felt like a cow being shuttled across the farm. The busing situation, while adequate, is far from desirable. Hopefully kinks like buses and schedules (pretty important "kinks" if you ask me) will work themselves out soon. Meanwhile, the teachers, of all nations, are all frustrated, and tensions are still running high. Fortunately, Leah and I are slowly learning to laugh about things. It is good to have a friend to lean on. I don’t think we would make it without each other.

Oh, I forgot to mention that on Monday, we had no electricity at the school. Well, the lights wouldn’t turn on, but the hand dryers in the bathroom worked, the microwave and the refrigerators worked in the cafeteria, and things flickered all day. And there still aren’t working computers, and there are only text books in the library -- no real "reading" books. Oh wait, but if there were they would be in Russian, so I couldn’t read anyway! Needless to say, the school is coming along, but slowly. It is a challenge to be in a new school anywhere; this is a triple double dare challenge!

There is nothing that can prepare you to be immersed in a foreign society that you don’t understand (and they don't understand you) for days at a time. I’ve realized how much I take for granted -- like turning on the radio and understanding, or picking up the telephone and being able talk to the person on the other end. While I have been surround by it all week, and understand more, I have found some major difficulties in the language. I was talking with one of the teachers this week when I was explaining that I like blinis with mushrooms and cheese, but that I couldn’t say "griby" the word for mushrooms correctly. It sounds like "griby" to me, but there is some throat sound in there that I don’t hear and can’t seem to make. The teacher laughed and said that the word I was pronouncing meant "come to me by boat." No wonder the counter workers look at me funny when I ask for a "come to me by boat and cheese blini, please"! Ay, ay, ay!

It hit me this morning that I am living life, doing what I have studied to do for four years. Kind of amazing. Teaching is actually going fine, which surprises me. I didn’t think I would be able to teach second graders, but when you only have four or five, it is possible. The challenge is planning for so many different levels and with so many different cooperating teachers. But when I sat down with four native English speaking second graders on Friday and started to read them a book, they were spellbound. They were hooked on "Stone Soup"! A challenge yes, impossible, no. I used to say I wasn’t moving to Russia because it was easy; I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

Contrary to my earlier objections to marrying a Russian man, I have found Mr. Right. Just kidding! But Leah and I did discover a new "friend" at school, who kept us giggling all week. If you want to know, keep reading, but if this stuff annoys you, scroll down ;) Yuri Yurivich, as he calls himself, sat himself down by me on the bus one day and proceeded to act like a schoolboy as he introduced himself. It was quite humorous, to learn unknown facts about this Ukrainian man, and nice to be entertained for forty-five minutes. I told Leah about my new friend and she said she had met him the day before. Yuri continued to make himself known through out the week, flirting in the halls as he passed with his students, peeking in our office, the same routine that all men seem to try. He speaks enough English to communicate with us, but not enough to carry on a meaningful conversation with. Leah told me one day that Yuri got off the morning bus and was looking around, returned, and said "Angela is late. She will miss the bus." Leah explained to him that I was taking a later bus; we laughed and laughed, but it is nice to have some Russian chivalry shown to us! Yuri is a psychologist for the fifth grade (there is one for every grade here) but there are only eight students in the fifth grade, so he is really the second teacher for the fifth grade. Can you guess what Yuri did while I taught my lessons for the fifth grade? He stood in the doorway and watched me, or did work in and out of the classroom. And I thought my internship evaluations were tough! At lunch today, Yuri sat with Leah and I, along with the other fifth grade teacher, Sonja, and we attempted to converse. We sounded like a group of Americans, loudly translating back and forth, and trying out new words. Again, Leah and I found it very humorous, but so did the rest of the teachers who were watching us. With only two fluent teachers in the building, Leah and I receive a lot of stares anyway, and when you are being flirted with by one of the teachers, it doesn’t help. Anyway, Yuri has definitely added some comic relief for Leah and I during the stressful week.

Lesson learned from Yuri: all men are the same -- no matter the culture or language. Plain and simple.

It is Friday night as I write this, and there are seven of us sitting in my living room, recuperating from with week by watching Moulin Rouge and venting when the time is right. It feels good the just be together again. We have all struggled, and some are at their wits end. I pray that this weekend is restful and rejuvenating. Which, so far it has been. Thank you to those who have written. You are a blessing and are keeping my spirits bright. May you be blessed this week.