The gift of a tree
At lunch, I pointed at something that I thought was chicken. It turned out to be cottage cheese. I then tried to buy three bananas and two apples. The cashier said something to me that I didn't understand, but clearly I did something wrong. I had to leave the bananas and the apples at the register.
These past few days--after the madness of training, the excitement of swearing in, the anticipation of my new home--have finally given me a glimpse of what the next few months will be like. I've begun to settle into my new home, Cherkasy, the capital of Cherkasy Oblast, or region, and home to about 280,000 people. There's a beach town feel to it, probably because it's hot right now and the banks of the Dnipro River are peppered with sandy beaches and sun-thirsty Ukrainians. I know what's coming next, but that's an entry for another day.
I've only met my host father, Alexandr, who speaks very little English. And of course, I speak even less Russian or Ukrainian. So we rely on Google Translate, as long as Wi-Fi works. Monday morning, unfortunately, the router was acting up--at the worst time.
Alexandr gifted me, I think, a tree--or rather the seed of a tree. He gave it to me in a large white bucket and said something in Russian that I couldn't follow. Without the help of Google Translate, I politely accepted it and set it down on the floor. It's now in my room, and I don't know what to do with it. I haven't met host mom, or their 12-year-old son, yet. They come home from summer vacation tomorrow, and I'm curious to see how the dynamic changes. Maybe one of them can explain the tree thing.
Later that morning was my first day at the organization I've been assigned to. "From Heart to Heart" helps people living with HIV, including sex workers, the homeless, ex-convicts, and people using injection drugs. There's a reentry center on site, where the homeless and those recently released from prison have an opportunity to have a stable home, find work and seek medical and legal help. It's a 40-minute walk from my host family's home, and the route takes me past homes and businesses that are off the hustle of the city's center. Some roads are paved, others are not, and my mind wandered about how I'll get here in the winter--but that's an entry for another day.
I did what I could today, cleaning up the English version of their site ("eradicating homelessness," not "eradicating homeless people," that sort of thing).
A friend back home asked me to clarify something I had told him. "Clarity," I answered, "is a luxury at the moment." I'm lost on an hourly basis, and that's uncomfortable and frightening. But you know what? That cottage cheese I thought was chicken was delicious. And tomorrow I'll go back to that store and bring home those apples and bananas.
