Monday (October 8th) marked my two year anniversary in Ukraine. Things that were once weird are now normal. Okay, maybe not normal, but perhaps “life as usual.” Not long ago, somebody asked if living in Ukraine had changed me, in the way I think and live. For your reading pleasure, I decided to write a new dictionary. This is how the meaning of such words and phrases have changed.

crowded - In the early days, when the marshutka (bus) was full of people, I’d wait for the next one. Now I just squish in like the locals. Crowded is truly a relative term.
My most memorable Marshutka ride was also one of the longest. I was literally smashed against a wall, not even really standing. I only had one foot on the floor. The other foot was wedged between two other passengers during the canning process. Every possible space, and some impossible spaces were filled, like the world’s biggest and least funny clown car. Yet the driver kept picking up more people, and they kept coming in. In my heart I believe he was trying for the company record.

clean bathroom – When I show new people around the city, I always help map out where the bathrooms are. A restroom is harder to come by here. So you’re more likely to accept some scary bathrooms. Nothing beats one particular outhouse in Moldova though. For mercy’s sake, I offer no details.

long walk – I walk everywhere, all the time. And love it. Last time I stepped on a scale, I found I was lighter than my college days. One day, playing with Google Earth, we discovered I was walking 2.6 miles just going to the boat and back every day. Blew my mind. Often I do it twice. It doesn’t feel like much, it’s a lovely walk. But Winter is coming.

grocery shopping – I’ll take the outdoor market to the store any day (except for buying meat). The check-out girls at Furschetts (the nearby grocery store) are absurdly grouchy here. What’s the deal? Is “grumpy disposition” a required trait on the job application? The babushkas on the street are more civil and offer free samples sometimes. Their produce is better. Plus, when I buy from them, I’m helping supplement their pensions.

Christmas – How I miss you, Christmas… (heavy sigh) Words cannot express the desire to go back to America during this season. We talk of “culture shock” when you go to other countries. It finds its ultimate manifestation here for me, because the holiday is simply glossed over. Some westerner friends refuse to be here during this time because it’s too depressing. We should warn new staff of this at orientation.

home – This is the word that has taken on the most nebulous meaning. Home is with family in Michigan, for sure. But when I come back from an outreach, or an extended time in a village somewhere, it feels comforting to see Mama Ukraine and that bridge that takes us into the familiar old neighborhood.

Good and bad, I know this is where I belong. If it’s just a season, I think it’ll be a long season. My roots are down. It’s my country, more than ever. Sure, there’s much to be desired in the areas of Christmas and customer service. But I’m here for the long haul.

¶ 9:58 AM //