Stepping on Toes

God has a creative way of doing things.

Here in Ukraine, the appearance of your footwear is VERY important. Your shoes should be polished and shined prior to leaving your house--every time. I haven't learned its full cultural significance, but it's obviously important in this country.

Well...walking in the winter weather and riding on crowded public transportation don't always make it easy. In fact, I've committed the "sin," at least twice, of stepping on someone's shoes as I try to jockey for a position on a packed bus as it rapidly pulls away from the curb. I have learned the Russian word for "to apologize," so I try to use it as I absorb the penetrating stare of disgust from my offended bus companion.

So, the second time I did it, I was quite surprised when the offendee responded with "That's okay." Yep. English. :) I waited a minute as I formed the question in Russian -- "do you speak English?" and then delivered it to her. Her answer was "yes," followed by a conversation about my reason for being in Kiev and more. We both happened to get off at the same bus stop and she was interested in talking further, so we exchanged cell phone numbers and promised to connect. Which we did.

Long story short -- she's now my language helper. I am very grateful for Liza and truly feel that she was given to me inspite of stepping in the wrong place. (I'm just really glad I didn't put my foot in my mouth, too! :) )

Sponginess

Just how much can a sponge absorb?

Just how much can "I" absorb?

What does saturation do to me?

While I wouldn't say that I am "overwhelmed" (at this point) with living in a new culture, I do think that I can more quickly reach my saturation point. It seems that my brain has to re-process everything from the ways it knew back home in Indiana. Even the simplest of things is "new." For instance, you can't just turn on the faucet for a drink of water. Here, you need to turn the faucet on, pull out the little stopper-thing, and wait for the filter to process the water for you to drink. And then the filter doesn't stop when the faucet is turned off, so it's easy to overflow your cup. Another example -- when I return home, I don't just turn the key in the lock or press the garage door opener button. No, I use the magnetic key to get me into the building, take the elevator to my floor (but one of the two elevators doesn't stop at my floor which means going up or down a flight of stairs next), use the key for the door to my hallway, and THEN use the key to my apartment door (and turn the lock twice, not just once). These situations definitely take a bit more time...and that's barely leaving home! :)

Now grocery store shopping is another challenge. Thankfully there are pictures on many packages but you can't always go by the pictures either! So, if I really want a specific item, I must look up the word for it in Ukrainian (because things are usually printed in Ukrainian here and not Russian), write it down (because I'll never remember by the time I actually get to the store) and then go try to find where a Ukrainian grocery store would shelve such an item and even recognize the packaging when I find it. My spongy brain just got soaked a bit more.

There are many more examples I could give, but the point for me is to figure out when I've reached saturation and when to let the sponge dry out a bit before going back for more. At least for me, the drying out process seems best achieved by sleep. Sponges dry out when they lie flat and don't do anything; so I guess it's the same with me. :)

Just say Da-rynok

Today was a new adventure for us. We went to the Darynok (say Da-REE-nock; "da" means yes and "ree-nock" means market) escorted by some new friends. There were a few goals in mind but mostly it was a siteseeing trip -- in 0 degree F weather.

As you can see from the photo to the left, Darynok is full (3+ large buildings worth and 2 floors in parts) of small shops (and thankfully all indoors). One area specializes in coats and outerwear. Another focuses on furniture. And another on clothing.

Initially we were looking for a hat for Mark and narrowed down the style that suited him best, but we didn't make a purchase. Then we looked at furniture, particularly office chairs and sofas for our friends. Most sofas here convert into beds (out of necessity) and they aren't the most comfortable for sitting. No great success again. So then we decided that it was time to eat. Like all good "malls," there was a cafeteria-type place in which to dine. I tried a sort of chicken Kiev that was filled with butter and also had a marinated mushroom and onion salad. Pretty tasty. After lunch we parted ways with our friends due to time restraints.

Mark & I ventured on into the clothing section and ... I did it ... I actually tried on pants in several shops. Basically that entails going behind the counter and ... just doing it! :) Mark sort of stood guard and there weren't throngs of people and the counter did hide most of my lower half. Pretty wild, huh? Unfortunately, the styles here are similar to those in the States and my more-than-middle-aged body just doesn't seem to belong in the typical trousers. Bummer. We were grateful for one clerk in particular who was trying EVERYthing to help me out. And do you want to know my size? How about a 42! :) But that depends on the store and brand, because in some places I'm a 50 and in others a 15. Go figure!

Long story short, after the bus ride home, we found pants for me in a store 2 blocks from our apartment and they were cheaper, too. God was gracious -- this store had an official dressing room. :)

Food for Thought

My life is influenced quite heavily by food. That is not a surprise to many.

Food stuffs in Ukraine are largely similar to my experience in the States, but there are some exceptions. Take ketchup for example. It often comes in packages like you see at the left, and the design is quite efficient. You can easily squeeze the last remaining drop out via the spout on the corner (which also reseals the package very well). Why don't we have those in the US of A?

Then there is milk. Yes, this item that does the body good is always refrigerated in America, but it doesn't have to be! The box at the left is sold on shelves and keeps a long time. How handy is that?

On my second visit to our new church home this morning, I was pondering and realized that some types of food can't really be processed unless they are acknowledged and understood - at least to some extent. My extremely limited Russian vocabulary and aging ears were keeping me from taking in spiritual food on almost ANY level between 10:30am-noon. This scenario is new to me though not to many folks around the world. It's a sort of starvation, I'm thinking. A starvation that can drive me to work harder at feeding myself in this venue and also to work harder at finding food from other sources in the meantime. It's a starvation that makes my soul ache a bit, but a starvation that can be a motivator to seeking what truly satisfies. A starvation that made a familiar Christmas tune resonate inside my heart today.

I guess you could say soul food is coming in different packaging for me these days.

Genesis

I guess it's time to begin.

We are officially now in Kiev, Ukraine, and we're glad we are here.

Welcome to my attempt to write/journal/process life in a new culture, with a new language, with a new job, and with a new outlook.

As the saying goes -- so far, so good. God has been gracious in numerous ways and we are making a good initial adjustment. It's been exciting to almost literally watch Him provide for attitudes and energy and stamina right when I knew I'd be needing them. He is amazing.

And we are grateful to be here -- wanting to begin this new "race" slowly and patiently and knowing well that we'll need water stops and rests along the way.

Thanks for reading along.