Official Circular: 27 Months in Україна: Home.

I realize that it's been far too long since I've written anything. Before I left the States, I imagined that I would be updating all the time because, naturally, I would have so much to say. Although this is true, I often find myself 1. questioning the relevance of what I have to say, and 2. realizing that my day-to-day is less than adventurous. Today, for example, I didn't leave my apartment. Primarily because it's freezing and I am deeply committed to my space-heater (thank you, Peace Corps). But also because for the past 3 months, I've dreamt of doing absolutely nothing. And my friends, that time has come. For now at least.

Since I last wrote, here are some things that have changed:

I managed to (proudly) find cyrillic stickers for my keyboard and carefully selected a color that would be visible on my keys (blue). Yet, as I applied the stickers to my black keyboard, I promise I didn't feel foolish at all.
I managed to achieve a satisfactory score on my Language Proficiency Interview. Yet this does not mean that I am able to satisfactorily communicate in Ukrainian—mostly I rely heavily on gestures and circumlocution. Luckily no one in my building seems to speak English, so my practice is cut out for me.
I successfully taught a unit on critical, thesis-driven writing for my students at Chernihiv National University. This pedagogical experiment was interesting for both myself and the students because they have so little experience with this style, much less in English. But we worked hard and good things came of it.
I Grew another heart in Chernihiv and all too soon said goodbye to them on Sunday, December 9th.
On December 11th, I swore in as an Peace Corps volunteer and felt far more emotional about it than expected.

My Ukrainian family: Saying goodbye

I arrived in Луцьк (Luts'k) on Wednesday, December 12th at approximately 5 am. Exhausted, I and all my belongings were promptly ushered from the train station to my new apartment. Since then, it has been a haze of meeting people, crawling through knee-deep snow, speaking English until my jaw hurts, and meeting more people. I have met nearly everyone in my department, and, as I told my regional manager Oksana, I'm stunned at how well I fit in. I feel like I have the best site in Ukraine—for me at least. Even as the weird American (I've become accustomed to this, mind you), I'm thrilled to begin teaching and collaborating with a group of dynamic, like-minded individuals.

One question that has been asked of me repeatedly by Ukrainians is "What surprises you most about Ukraine?" and it's a difficult one to answer. "Surprise" is an interesting word, mostly because I'm unsurprised by surprise—I expect to be surprised. However, I think the strongest experience that comes to mind is how amazing it has been to be embraced and loved by my Ukrainian family and friends. When we arrived in September, we were told repeatedly that Ukrainians are selective about who they "let in." This may be true, yet I have found immeasurable welcome and love from the hearts and in the arms of Ukrainians—individuals who will be part of me for the rest of my life. Before I left Chernihiv, Mama Luda took me in her arms and said моя дочка, моя маленька (my daughter, my little one), reminding me that I am part of their family. Whatever I did to deserve this kind of love, I don't know, but it's rich and wonderful.

Now it's the Holidays in Ukraine, and, to be honest, it doesn't really feel like Christmas. I think my sudden lack of friends, family, and decor have something to do with it. On December 25th, my closest PCV neighbor, Kristi, is coming over and we're making Christmas. It will be bright and delicious. Stay tuned.

Ukraine's big Celebration is новий рік (New Years), and Christmas is celebrated on the 7th of January. I already have invitations from my colleagues to various events, and, as I was told today by a current volunteer—prepare to eat a lot. Not just a lot, like more than a lot. Maybe I should start training?

I feel as though the past three months have, on a number of levels, engaged my wits, energy, and heart. As I was jumping through all of the application hoops just a year ago, I remember thinking as I found myself waiting for the 87th signature/clearance, "I must really want this—more than I even know." And I do. I do because I find myself in spaces that move me so deeply, I can't even fix to mutter my gratitude to whatever it is that brought me here. "Dumbstruck with the sweetness of being till we don't be..."

And now a presentation—a montage, if you will—of my new residence in Lutsk: