Weekend Wrap-Up

One of the lovely things in Odessa are the many statues and squares. I think we will definitely miss the charm of walking around downtown when we head back to the States.

There is a particular statue that is very popular among tourists- a man sitting on a park bench that just beckons you to sit next to him and pose! There are other charming statues- a boy flying a paper airplane, a mother and child waiting by the Sea Terminal for the return of their loved one...

Another interesting treat is visiting Privoz- an enormous farmer's market that has everything from dried fruit stalls to butchers to vegetable stands. Rows and rows of open-air shopping that isn't for the inexperienced or faint of heart. You have to be able to have a good eye to discern the good produce from the poor, an ability to negotiate in Russian, and a tough stomach in the meat and fish area.

Arun didn't seem fazed at all, and had fun negotiating for a schwarma and walking through Privoz like it was a day at the fair!

We ended our weekend of fun with a night at the opera.

We are certainly coming full circle, as this was one of my first excursions in Odessa.

At that time we had seen the Pirates of Penzance ballet, and this time we took in Rosinni's Barber of Seville. As promised (so many months ago!) I am finally posting pictures of the gorgeous interior!

The first thing Arun asked me in the morning is whether or not he could get popcorn to snack on during the show. Um... considering this isn't the first time he's been to the opera, I'm surprised he was rather disappointed when I told him NO!

Still, right before we walked into the opera house, Arun stopped to get some M&M's which he asked me to sneak in (geez- it's not a flask during a football game!). And so during the show, he munched on candy... and then between acts, he ran down to get some cake. Geez- such a grubber!

The opera was delightful. What was funny is that about midway through the show, Arun realized he's SEEN it BEFORE! Yeah, that's right- HE'S the cultured one! Apparently, HR took the entire office to the Barber of Seville when they first arrived in Odessa. This doesn't, however, explain why Arun asked me after the first act if this was in Russian or Italian. Sigh. Obviously Arun's been paying more attention to the M&M's than the libretto!

So that's it! Our Night at the Opera!

Weekend in Odessa

As we wind down our days in Odessa, we are trying to get in the last bits of sightseeing that have been on our 'to-do' list. Arun has been particulary anxious to go to 411 Battery (a memorial park dedicated to WWII.) It was the site of the "siege of Odessa" when the Soviet forces battled the Germans for 73 days. The city was overcome until May 9th, 1944 which is celebrated here as "Victory Day." The trenches, underground catacombs and some weaponry still remain.

It proved to be a rather enjoyable day. We had breakfast downtown at the Mozart Cafe and then headed on the 175 marshrutka down to the Battery. It's right on the sea, so it was actually a bit chilly; not that it deterred the throngs of people out and about!

The funniest thing was that the park is particularly popular for energetic boys- ranging from 7-14. And so for many of the photo-ops, Arun was waiting in line or battling 10 year olds for positioning! It was rather hilarious! And most of the boys were accompanied by their mothers who were taking their photos but in my case, I was following around my 30 year old husband for pictures. Sigh...

There was a wonderful museum displaying a lot of Soviet paraphernalia and propoganda- and of course, Arun was deeply mesmerized.

Odessites are really enjoying the Spring weather and so many folks make a day out of 411 Battery and drive their cars into the park for picnics... it really looks like a form of tailgating! Pretty hilarious!

We left the Battery and headed downtown to enjoy the rest of our day. Arun was really amused near Greek Square by the throngs of old men who gather to play chess. "I never really considered chess a spectator sport!" Arun quipped when he noticed that there were more people watching than playing chess!

We finished our evening with some sushi at Fanconi's (the BEST in Odessa!) and came home exhausted! Quite a Saturday!

Apprehended!

If you look like a foreigner in Ukraine- chances are, at some point- you will be stopped by the police. They ask for your passport and check to see if you are in the country illegally. Most of the time, they are simply looking for a few bucks of "chai" money.

Arun and I have been stopped a couple of times. Never near our home in Fontanska because it's a suburb; generally it's downtown on Deribasovskaya.

They are generally cordial- they ask for papers, and Arun just NEVER carries them! But so far he has gotten away with showing his Texas driver's license. Usually, they ask him, "Uchinik?" meaning- are you a student? That's because usually the foreigners living in Odessa ARE students! But we (I) usually have to correct them and explain that we work here (he shows them his office id) and they see that he's married and that we look innocent-enough and they salute us and let us go.

Well- this didn't happen the last time Arun got caught.

I think mainly it's because this is the first time I wasn't with him.

AND he was hanging out at the airport (waiting to pick me up!)

Well, the police caught up to him and asked for his passport- which of COURSE he wasn't carrying. He tried his old trick of showing them his driver's license and Raytheon ID card and they just refused to budge! They sent him to the police station nearby to talk to the head guy there. Well, by this time Arun called the office manager at his work and they quickly faxed over a copy of his passport to the police office. About 15 minutes later, the whole thing was cleared up and Arun was released.

Well- news spread like wildfire at his work! Arun was APPREHENDED!

Little did they know that this had been our third time. And that Arun STILL hadn't learned his lesson about carrying his darn passport around!

I was speaking with one of my students, Zoong, who is Vietnamese in origin (but Russian in every other way!) and he mentioned that he gets stopped by the police all the time too. It seems Arun's main mistake at the airport is not slipping them a 20 Hr note! The police, like everyone else in Ukraine, are incredibly underpaid- so it's really just a way to bolster their income. They mean no harm! And it's true- generally they are young guys who are usually very respectful to us. One of the times on Deribasovskaya- Arun even tried to shake the cops' hand at the end! That didn't really fly....

Live and Learn!

My name is.... what?

So one of the things we've learned in Ukraine is that names can be very complex!

Almost instantly after people meet me, they turn Antara into Antaruchka.

It's a way of addressing someone more informally- to draw them closer to you and make it more 'tender.'

Arun's nickname never ceases to crack me up- it's Arunchik.

However, you can't just haphazardly add 'uchka' and 'chik' to people's names. There are certain endings that 'match' with certain names.

The other thing that occurs is the diminutive version of names. I learned quickly that my student called Nastya- was actually Anastasia in my attendance sheet. Natasha was Natalie. Maria was Masha. Olga was Olya. Ira was Irina. For the boys it was equally interesting: Alexander was Sasha. Dmitry was Dema. Vladamir was Vova.

The whole Slavic naming structure gets even more complex than just nicknames though!

Turns out everyone is also given a patronymic middle name. This essentially is a 'son-of' or 'daughter-of' identification. It doesn't function in the same way as an American middle name. Sometimes they are dropped or abbreviated. I really think the historical origins of the patronymic is to help people identify the lineage of an individual. And even though that function is becoming more obsolete in our modern age- the tradition remains.

This is way my students' formal names look like this:

Svetlana Iosifovna Kuzmina

Which means this girl's name is Svetlana- she is the daughter of Iosif (Joseph) and her family name is Kuzmina. But of course... she goes by Sveta (the diminutive).

Whew!

Superstition!

• 
  At a recent dinner party at our house, the conversation turned to superstitions. Turns out, there are a lot of very interesting supersitions that exist in Ukraine. I find that some of them are rather similar to a few that I used to hear from my mother. For example- If your right hand itches-you will get money; if your left hand itches- you will lose money. So clearly, some superstitions cross cultural boundaries! I'd be interested to hear if there are similiarities between Ukrainian superstitions and some that you've heard--- let me know!
  
  Here are some others:
  
  
• While it is bad luck to make Borsch on Thursdays, it is good luck to sit between two people with the same name.
• An unmarried Ukrainian woman never sits at the corner of a table if she wants to marry within the next seven years.


• Before a trip- it's good luck to sit on your luggage before leaving.


• Never shake hands over a threshold for you will send misfortune to your host.


• While flowers are considered a gracious gift, do not present a bouquet with an even number of flowers.
• If cutlery falls to the floor, it means you can expect guests.
• Whistling indoors means financial hardship may befall you!

Thanks Andrei! For all the great conversation!

Missing Ankur

Today would have been Ankur's 26th birthday.
As I have been sorting through my pictures, I realize that most of them involve him with food! :)
He definitely loved to eat!
And so I'll have to make it a point to remember him and eat out in a big way.

I've had my ups and downs these past few weeks.
Through people, I have discovered more and more what made Ankur so amazing. And I feel so incredibly blessed to have had him in my life.

Still- the grief I have felt over this time has been the most intense as I have ever gone through in life. Not a day goes by without thoughts of Ankur. I miss him so intensely.

I have learned a lot as well.
At first I really questioned how this family who has stood by everyone and been such support in our community could have had this happen to them. I wondered how someone who has lived with such honesty and integrity could have faced such a terrible incident. What kind of karma is this?

And yet I watch as hundreds of people write about Ankur... even to this day.
There hasn't been a single day that the Dube family has been alone.
There has been a flood of support- people flying from all corners of the world to be with them.
And while that doesn't replace the loss- clearly all their good deeds are coming forth through this shared grief.

Here I am, still thinking of him, writing of him. If he hadn't touched me so deeply- I wouldn't be missing him right now.

Happy Birthday Ankur!

Safari Part IV

The Hadzabe!

As I've recounted stories from my safari trip- there is one aspect that seems to capture people's imagination. Our time with the Hadzabe tribe.

It's rather understandable- there are less than 1,500 people left of this tribe. They are one of the most primitive tribes left in the world. Lifespans are only up to 40 years of age because of their harsh life. No huts or caves or homes- they completely live in the bush. They eat what they can shoot with their bow and arrow (turns out their favorite is eating baboons!) They also subsist on wild nuts and berries to add to their primarily-carnivorous diet.

We drove through the bush for about an hour over unpaved hillside to get to this particular family of 14-20. They are shunned by other Hadzabe because they 'accept' tourists. Actually, they have gained more of a world-view because a Harvard professor studied them with the help of a local mediator, Mustafa. We were lucky enough to pick up Mustafa who did the same for us. He asked them for permission for our visit, and they immediately approached us with warm handshakes (taught to them by some Westerner, no doubt!) Generally Hadzabe do not wear clothing, but this family has leaned some amount of shame from so many visitors and so they cut off trousers and turn them into shorts when they see tourists arriving.

Even though we had to communicate with them through Mustafa, we could feel their warmth and hospitality. They seemed to be a simple, kind-hearted people that lived more harmoniously with their surroundings than most of us could dream possible!

They showed us how they make arrows- straightening them with their teeth. And then they showed us their precise hunting ability with some target practice (we joined in!)

Mustafa all of a sudden asked, "Normally, if you want to watch them hunting, you have to arrive at 4 in the morning and trek with them. But I saw a wild cat killed at the side of the road... what if we asked if they are interested in a little snack?"

Of course we were interested! But at the same time, we couldn't help but be a bit repulsed by the fact that we were about to watch three teenage boy chow-down on some road-kill!

Well, Mostafa asked the boys in their click-lanaguage if they wanted to eat this cat... and they were filled with excitement! They gathered up their bows and arrows and started walking down the path. But Mostafa stopped them and asked if they wanted to go by car- it was quite a distance and Arun and I didn't have too much time.

Those boys have NEVER been inside a car before in their lives. They were delighted-thrilled-and completely scared out of their minds. Mostafa translated for us:

They're saying, "The trees are running!"
And we watched the poor boys as they held on to the sides of the car for dear life shrieking as the trees rustled up against our jeep.

Finally, we arrived, and the boys went out to check their mid-day meal. They seemed rather relieved as they clamored out of the vehicle and back unto solid land. They excitedly clicked to one another as they examined their 'freebie' meal- one they didn't have to exert any hunting energy for.

I won't explain in graphic detail but quicker than I could microwave a TV dinner- they had a fire up and roaring- and threw the cat over the fire to singe the fur off. Then they created a 'plate' of sorts out of leaves, made some skewers out of branches and were dining!

It was a rather surreal experience!

In fact, local tribes, who keep their distance from the Hadzabe (and never really interact with them) stopped by to watch as well. They were equally amazed at the ability to digest, essentially what amounted to raw meat!

After the boys finished up- they covered their 'pit' up with dirt and then happily headed back on foot to their bush.

We wondered if they would have preferred going back by car- afterall, didn't they enjoy the experience? But as we watched them with their carefree gait, heading through the bush- we realized, no- they are truly happy. They have an inner-peace that those of us with so many wants-and needs can not achieve. They are the lucky ones.