MoldovAnn

My brother has generously financed and supported my blogging habits for the past five years, handling all technical issues, allowing me to remain blissfully tech-unsavvy for a long time. He’s urged me to develop better habits, coaxed me into dabbling with new-fangled things like RSS feeds. I must admit, I’m a curmudgeon at heart, and I fight the changes he encourages, kicking and screaming, until I actually try them and realize they are pretty dang cool.

He finally put his foot down about the blogging; he’s not going to enable my selfish behavior anymore. He’s cutting me off. Really, this is the only way to deal with me. I don’t blame him.

Bless his heart, he’s not just throwing me out to the wolves, to fend for myself. He found a way for me to blog that’s even easier than letting him take care of everything for me.

All this change stuff have also given me the opportunity to reflect on what I want to do with my blogging, too. Sometimes it feels like more of a burden than a pleasure, sometimes I can’t wait to write, most times I don’t manage to find the time to write. Maybe shaking things up a bit, starting up a new site that’s easier for me to use, will help me to blog more.

I’ve decided it’s also time to retire MoldovAnn. I started this blog to share stories with family and friends while I was in Peace Corps in Moldova. I thought I was so clever to call it MoldovAnn. Well, I was in Moldova for one year, and have been in Ukraine for over four years, so it seems time to give myself a moniker that more accurately reflects who I am, or at the least, isn’t completely inaccurate.

And so a new blog is born, Anka’s Place. You can catch me there.

I wrote this late last Wednesday night/early Thursday morning, from my hotel room in Kharkiv. Didn’t get a chance to post it until now.

It’s officially the fourth Thursday of November in Ukraine, the traditional day of giving thanks in the United States.

I’m in Kharkiv tonight, my third city in 3 days during this tour of eastern Ukraine. A bartendar asked me tonight, after hearing me speaking English with my colleague, where I was from. It took me a moment to answer, I wasn’t quite sure how. I finally said “Originally, I’m from America, but now I live in Kyiv.” I was surprised by my own hesitation – how on earth could I be confused about where I am from? It was another one of those moments when I realized I have changed, my world is different from what it used to be.

This is my first trip significantly east of Kyiv. It’s embarrassing to admit that I have been living in Ukraine for 4 years and never been to eastern part of the country. But I’m trying hard during this trip to make up for lost time! The first stop was Dnipropetrovsk. All I can say is that I was amazed – pleasantly surprised doesn’t come close. Honestly, I’ve only ever heard about how industrial and polluted and ugly eastern Ukraine is. Well, so far, I’ve seen a quite different picture. Dnipropetrovsk was really beautiful; the city center is jam-packed full of hip cafes, outrageously expensive shops and beautiful architecture. The riverfront, excuse me, puts Kyiv to shame (then again, that’s not particularly hard since Kyiv’s riverfront is totally disgusting). I’m actually looking forward to visiting DP again, for pleasure and not just for work.

We drove to Kharkiv last night, about 2 hours from DP. It was already dark and I couldn’t get a full impression of the city, but we enjoyed a stroll through the huge (and clean!) park in the evening. We stopped for a “refreshment” at a cute-looking cafe with a display case full of decadent goodies. The waitress got a real kick out of us ordering desserts and beers – not the usual combination. She smiled and chatted with us and was all around friendly.

Wednesday we drove to Luhansk, 300 km from Kharkiv. It was rainy and foggy, the driver was on speed or something, driving like a maniac. I closed my eyes and resigned myself to a messy death on the open highway. 4 hours later we arrived in Luhansk and visited the Window on America. From there, we went to the Taras Shevchenko National University of Luhansk (not to be confused with the Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv, they are separate institutions).

Since my presentations are about studying in the US, I normally speak to groups of students who understand English and thus I can be lazy and present in English. So I wasn’t quite prepared when they asked me to do my presentation in Russian. I ought to be able to, in fact, I can, but I was tired, I wasn’t in my groove, there were sooo many people in the room – I don’t know what happened, but I started to get tongue-tied and all discombobulated. When my colleague whispered in my ear “Ann, just speak English”, that destroyed any shred of self-confidence I had remaining. It wasn’t one of my more shining moments, let’s put it that way. I quickly turned the floor over to my Ukrainian colleague, who did a bang-up job.

A quick dinner and another terrifying 4 hour drive, back to Kharkiv. I kept myself distracting by posting notes on the harrowing experience to Facebook. So I can’t say I have much of an impression of Luhansk, having seen very little.

A week later, I’m finally sitting down to finish this post. I started Thanksgiving Day in Kharkiv, gave a presentation at the Kharkiv State University of the Arts. We also met briefly with the university rector. I think she was the first female rector I’ve met. Her office was great – all sorts of musical instruments and other items, a big couch covered with stuffed animals (given to her by her students, she told me), and fun little knick-knacks everywhere. I suspect the “personality” of her office had more to do with her being an artist at an arts university, rather than the fact that she is female, but it was one of the most comfortable and friendly offices I’ve seen in a long time. There was also a resident cat, lounging on the sofa outside her office, entertaining and disdaining the visitors waiting to see the rector. I loved it!

I took the express train back to Kyiv that afternoon, arriving home late Thursday night. My wonderful husband had prepared a simple but lovely Thanksgiving meal for us, and we celebrated just the two of us. We have so much to be grateful for, such a wonderful life together.

Saturday we “officially” celebrated Thanksgiving, with family and friends. Igor’s mother finally accepted an invitation to visit us in Kyiv (first time in 4 years!), and it was fun to get to treat her to an enormous and delicious meal for a change. She felt very out of sorts – not her usual role to be the guest, not directing everything and everyone – but we were very happy to have her relax and just enjoy herself. Igor decided to bake a turkey. He did, as always, a fantastic job and everyone seemed really impressed with the giant bird. Friends brought a ham, pies, and lots of other great dishes. Oh, and Igor also cooked an enormous catfish. Food galore – just the way Thanksgiving should be!

Zigfried Koshinsky, aka Ziggy, aka Fat Cat, had a heyday. He entertained everyone playing fetch, sneaking nibbles when no one was looking. By the end of the night, his belly was nearly dragging on the floor. Even the cat got it right.

Well, it’s a week now since the Ukrainian government induced panic in the country about the flu. People seem to be settling into the new realities. It has almost felt like that week between New Year’s and Christmas in Kyiv, only without all the decorations – fewer people on the streets and in public transportation, not a lot of traffic.

The mask-wearing trend seems to be fading. There are less average people on the street wearing them the last couple of days, but shopkeepers, police, store clerks seem to be mandated to wear them. I’ve read enough from sources I trust that our homemade masks don’t protect us at all from viruses, so I’ve shed mine.

Friends outside of Ukraine keep asking me if this is all political – honey, everything in Ukraine is political! No politician will pass up a chance to grandstand.

At first I thought the quarantine was a pretty ridiculous overreaction, but more and more I think it was the right thing to do. If a real epidemic did break out, this country would be wholly unable to deal with it. So quarantining folks now, before there is a serious problem, just might prevent all hell from breaking loose.

Still no clue what will happen after the quarantine is lifted – events that need to be rescheduled, school time made up, etc. Let’s hope this madness does end on November 22, as is currently scheduled, and we can get on with things.

… this whole social networking “thing”. I reconnected with a loooonnnggg lost friend today, after, lord, 15 years? Ever since I’ve had the tiniest inkling of how to use the internet, I’ve spent at least one or two afternoons a year searching for him. We lost track sometime in college, I think. I honestly don’t remember our last conversation, I have a vague memory of the last time I saw him in Columbus. But he’s always stayed close in my heart, someone I think about, wonder about. Someone I miss and want to talk to.

I smiled all the way home tonight after getting a reply to a fishing message I sent on Facebook. It’s Tony! Wow. I really thought I’d never find him again.

Ukrainians have a much stronger and more serious sense of the word “friend” than your average Americans do. Most Ukrainians will say they have 2, maybe 3, “friends”; everyone else is an “acquaintance”. We Americans, on the other hand, will call someone we met 30 seconds ago a “friend”. Not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong. But the only way I could think to describe Tony to Igor was that he is one of my 3-4 “Ukrainian-type friends”.

Oh, the intertubes can be so wonderful sometimes!

Yesterday was just weird.

Igor was nervous about me going to the office, he suggested several times that I work from home instead. I didn’t want to give in to the hysteria, but waited until well past rush hour to make the commute. So he fashioned a gauze mask for me to wear over my nose and mouth, the latest fashion in Kyiv. I shoved it in my pocket, but reluctantly promised to wear it on the metro.

During my short walk to the metro station, I saw a handful of people wearing masks and 2-3 times as many without. On the long escalator ride down to the platform, I started to feel guilty about my promise to Igor, so I put on his homemade mask. I felt like an idiot – I can be as vain as the next devushka, I’m embarrassed to say, and all I could think was how ridiculous I must look. The station was not empty, but there were far less people than normal for a week day, a few in masks, more without.

As I waited for the next train, I felt a tickle in my nose and thought to myself “Oh crap.” Sure enough, I sneezed – one time, behind my mask. I noticed people slowly move away from me, and they entered different cars when the train pulled up. Thank goodness, no more sneezing on the commute!

I started counting the number of people wearing masks – about 25-30% in the metro, less on the street.

We swapped stories in the office about craziness over the weekend. The grocery store clerk who pulled down her mask to cough into her bare hand, then picked up Peter’s veggies with said-hand to weigh them. Nice. The guy wearing a mask around his neck, smoking a cigarette. Wish I’d gotten a picture of that one.

I kept thinking about a book I read last month, World Without End, set in an English village during the Plague of the Middle Ages – about the characters who took precautions that seemed ridiculous to most of the residents, and the people who didn’t “fall for” the hysteria and were too “smart” to believe in the silly new precautions that were suggested. I wondered which category I would fall into in an epidemic? I have to admit, I didn’t get the flu vaccine when I had the chance during my trip to the US last month. Am I an idiot or what?

I left the office at 6, the normal rush hour time when all public transportation is jam-packed. But not last night. I saw several trolleys and buses that were nearly empty. My station was quite empty for that time of day, but the car filled up at the next couple of stops, to basically the normal crammed rush hour level. More people were wearing masks than had been in the morning, though, maybe 40-50%

We finally found some statistics, on the Ministry of Health’s website. This chart shows # of cases of flu and other respiratory illnesses in 10 cities of Ukraine, 1999-2009, broken down by week of the year. Yesterday this chart, showing 2009 stats in the red bar, went up through Week 43/44 and showed us basically right on track with number of cases as in previous years. I told this to Igor last night, and his immediate reaction – oh so typical – was “I don’t believe anything the Ministry of Health says.”

Today when I pulled up the chart – well, you can see, a huge jump this week.

Now I am kinda getting nervous myself. Logically, I know these statistics don’t necessarily tell me anything either – it’s extremely likely that cases of the flu were under-reported in the past, as well as other illnesses that are generally treated at home. Lots of people get the flu and don’t even realize it, they just think it’s a bad cold or something. I can’t think of any time in my adult life when I’ve gone to the doctor for a cold or flu. So we could say this jump in statistics is just an indication of awareness and increased reporting. But still…. I may look ridiculous, but I think I’ll go for “better safe than sorry” and wear my mask today.

And speaking of masks, here’s an interesting explanation of what to wear and why (with thanks to The Heart of the Matter for sharing the link).

A colleague in the western town of Lviv wrote that his office building is being closed, so he’ll be trying to work from home until the quarantine is lifted in that region. There has been talk of the oblast borders being closed, which is like shutting down inter-state transportation in the US. I have no idea how that could be enforced, or frankly what good it could do. Markets are supposed to be closed starting today. The mayor of Kyiv wants to restrict entry into the city.

Our winter coats are still in Korosten, in storage at Igor’s parents’ house. It’s snowing this morning (the first snowfall of the year!). Another good reason to stay home today.

My colleague’s neighbor got very sick over the weekend, with a high temperature. Since the consesus has been that those who have died from H1N1-related illnesses waited too long to get medical attention, Ella (my colleague) urged him to call the hospital, to get paramedics to come check him. Instead of help, he was told that they don’t have any medicine so the paramedics wouldn’t come to his apartment. This was especially shocking after Prime Minister Tymoshenko has been all over the TV claiming there is 2x as much medicine as there are sick people in Ukraine. I’m not really sure what that means.

Greetings from Kyiv sums up well part of the reason there is such a panicky reaction to the flu:

Rumors are abounding everywhere about just what is going on in Ukraine. What some people outside of Ukraine don’t understand is that there is a history in this country of the government not giving out vital health information (check your history on Chernobyl) and a socialized medical system in which many times doctors do not even communicate to people what kind of disease they have. So it makes sense that Ukrainians are nervous about what is really happening around them.

My guess is that there are little to no reliable statistics on the flu and other seasonal illnesses from past years, and so the fact that there are statistics being quoted right now freaks people out. I have yet to see a report that compares this current flu outbreak to any figures from previous years – so how can we know whether this is worse, the same, or maybe even not as bad as past winter flu seasons?

I don’t know if the flu is worse now in Ukraine than it normally is, and I don’t think anyone else knows either. But I’m very glad to see people being more aware of basic hygienic precautions that would help all of us all year long – cover your mouth when you cough and sneeze, wash your hands with soap and water, eat healthy, drink moderately, get plenty of vitamins, build up your immune system.

The H1N1 virus has finally arrived in Ukraine, and along with it a big ole dose of overreaction and panic. Reports vary on the number of infected and number of deaths attributable to swine flu, but there seems to be clear consensus that those who have died waited too long to seek medical attention. Then again, knowing the medical care available in regional towns and villages, it’s hard to imagine how going to the clinic or hospital would have really helped many of them – sad to say.

Prime Minister Yulia Timoshenko, in an attempt to scare the living bejeezes out of people, oops, I mean protect the population, has extended the autumn school break for another 3 weeks and advised people to avoid public gatherings. Once the announcement hit the wires this afternoon, parents started panicking – the flu immediately forgotten as they tried to figure out what the hell to do about childcare for another 3 weeks. Ex-pats were openly hoping the “quarantine” wouldn’t affect the international schools.

I saw three people wearing masks today, and another half-dozen covering their noses and mouths with scarves. Igor went to several pharmacies to buy echinacea and flu medicine, but no luck. Every place around us was sold out of both. So he bought a dozen lemons and insisted I drink the “family recipe” for good health – a potent concoction of vodka, lemon juice and honey.

I wonder how many of the unfortunate victims of H1N1 in Ukraine also thought their homebrew medicine was the right way to go. My father-in-law’s insistence that salo and vodka will protect you from and/or cure you of anything doesn’t seem like the best way to go right now. But what else to tell people to do?

Another great weekend in Korosten – we need to take friends every time! It gives us a great excuse to do something new and different. This time we took up the offer from Igor’s old friend Sasha to check out the Precious Gem Museum in Volodarsk-Volynskyi, a town about 55 km from Korosten, in an area known as the “little Urals”, not for the mountains (not in flat, flat, flat northern Ukraine!), but rather for the rich mineral deposits. My beautiful blue topaz jewelry comes from this area, and the bountiful granite deposits have contributed to Korosten’s many colorful monuments, walls, walkways and buildings. The particular rose-colored granite of the region is especially well-known, and in fact Lenin’s tomb on Red Square is made from the rose-colored granite deposits around Korosten (a fact I learned in the Precious Gem Museum!).

We were thoroughly impressed with the breath-taking examples of quartzes, topaz, and many, many other minerals and crystals whose names I would hardly recognize in English even if I knew the translations from Ukrainian. Sadly, pictures weren’t really allowed inside the museum – well, for a measly 5 hrivna a shot, which hardly seemed worth it when the museum booklet, with numerous photos, cost only 7 hrivna (I’ll have to scan some of the pictures and post them!). This museum was quite a little treasure, no pun intended.

I love village museums, they are often chock full of things the local residents think are ordinary, but I find them fascinating. More than once I’ve managed to get someone to open up the village museum for me. They are usually just two, sometimes three rooms, and the folks with me (often Ukrainians who’ve grown up in cities) are stunned by the history held within the simple walls. Looms, spinning wheels, farm implements, intricate embroidery and cross-stitched clothes and linens, decorative blankets for horses, folk paintings, pottery, children’s arts and crafts – I have thoroughly enjoyed every village museum I’ve had the good fortune to visit in Ukraine and Moldova, and I hope to see many more! Anyone traveling around Ukraine – make a point to stop in any little museum you come across, and if it’s closed, ask around. Chances are, someone can find someone who just might let you in for a look around.

I’m back in Kyiv – exhausted, as usual, after two weeks in the US. Managed to be just grams under the weight limit with my luggage (I’m getting good at that!).

I wish I could have visited with more friends while I was in DC, but the week was really intense and jam-packed. Lots of exciting changes in our organization, which will be both fun and challenging. One new development is the addition of 7 more countries to my portfolio. I’ll definitely have my hands full!

Those of you in the central Ohio region, my school friend Kate is about to complete massage therapy school and I was a very lucky guinea pig for her. It… was…. awesome. If you want her to be on her list when she is fully licensed next month and ready to open shop, let me know and I’ll pass on your contacts to her. Trust me, you will not regret it. She has, as she called it, the Cadillac of massage tables set up in her studio. I would call it the Bentley. She’s got lots of really tall friends so she was purposeful to get an extra long table to accomodate taller frames.

The cat now has a definitive name. As much as we liked Ziggy, his personality ended up setting the name – Trasher. It sounds slightly less awful when said with a heavy Russian accent, but Igor informed me today that it’s the final answer. It’s my own fault, I jokingly refered to the cat once or twice as “musornik”, “trash can” in Russian, ’cause he eats just about anything and everything. Folks living in small towns and villages feed their dogs, cats, chickens and pigs with table scraps, but usually city pets (which so far, in Kyiv at least, don’t seem to include chickens and pigs) often get store-bought pet food. Our guy, for good or bad, is not so fancy and has turned up his nose to most brands of cat food, but is perfectly content with any and all table scraps. So Igor started calling him Trasher, and sadly the consequence of me being gone for two weeks is that now the name has stuck. *Sigh*

Everything else seems OK. Only one thing broke in transit this trip, and I think it’s fixable. I went wild at JoAnn Crafts and now Eileen and I will have sooooo many supplies for all those cross-stitch patterns we bought over the summer! I’m working on baby booties for a friend – they are adorable!

The phone rang Wednesday afternoon. I happened to be home for a few minutes between the millions of things I’m trying to do in my short week in Columbus. But I hesitated to answer, since no one would be calling for me on the home phone. But I picked up. “Hello,” I said. Hesitation on the other end. “Is this the Merrill’s?” Oh great, telemarketers, I thought. “Yes,” I snapped. “Um, this is Mike, Will’s nephew.”

My cousin Mike figured he’d either get voice mail or just maybe my dad was back and would pick up, but a female voice was the last thing he expected to hear when he called with the sad news that their Uncle Jim had passed away.

Jim was my cousins’ uncle on the other side of their family, not related to me by blood but a relation nonetheless. He and his wife had a farm north of Columbus that we visited occassionally when I was growing up – I loved the open space, the horses, the woods, their big collie. His wife Virginia passed away 2 years ago, right after they closed on a house in town near their son. She never actually lived in the house, and so when Uncle Jim moved in, I can’t imagine how disconcerted his world must have felt, without her and in a strange new place. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the farm, though, and he drove up there 2-3 times a week (scaring the living daylights out of his children, no doubt, that their 89-year old father was making the 45 minute commute along the busy highway). He stopped at thrift stores and bought a piece of furniture now and then to put in the farmhouse, after everything else had been moved out. His kids brought up a cot, figuring it was better to have him sleep there if he got tired instead of driving back to Columbus.

He loved Wendy’s, and his granddaughter snuck a Frosty into the hospital for him earlier this week. He passed quietly, 90 years old, ready to join his beloved wife, sister and brother-in-law who have all died in the last 4 years.

My visits to Columbus are always jam-packed, this one no exception. But for some reason, I hadn’t managed to get Friday night plans finalized yet. Now I know why. Uncle Jim’s six nieces and nephews all came to town, from all across the country, for the funeral. I got to spend Friday afternoon and evening with most of them, and will see the others today. It’s been a decade since I’ve seen most of them, the last time was at their parents’ 45th wedding anniversary. I am embarrassingly out of touch with them, and I listened with amazement last night – doctors and teachers and pilots and researchers. A talented and successful bunch.

Scott will be back today from his trip to Japan with his new bride. She’ll have quite an introduction to the Merrill family!

Cookies-n-Cream ice cream hasn’t been invented in Ukraine yet

Chocolate martinis at Diversity Club

Visits to the US usually involve more than a bit of decadent indulgence for me- foods I can’t get in Kyiv, driving around everywhere, shopping shopping shopping. This trip started off pretty much like usual! Tuesday started with a trip to Target, I think I was the first person in the store when they opened at 8:00 am! (thanks in large part to jetlag that got me up at 5:00 am) A leisurely stroll around the store is always fun, marvelling at the stuff you can buy for just about anything. Then a stop at the grocery store to get my beloved Morningstar farms Veggie Sausage Patties, Thomas’ English muffins and a big block of Vermont cheddar cheese – yuuummm!

This trip I have noticed that there is hand sanitizer absolutely everywhere, dispensers on walls in stores, the doctor’s office, even next to the pump at the gas station. I’m all for cleanliness, but this obsession seems a bit out of control, if you ask me.

Julee invited me to their Girl Scout meeting Tuesday afternoon and talking with the girls and answering their questions about life in Ukraine was fun and boosted my lagging energy. Dinner with Julee and the girls was also a blast – as always, Julee’s memory for details can’t be beat and we had awesome tacos and burritos! So many cravings indulged in one day…

And one really delightful discovery at my dad’s house. Despite my vow to myself to not spend my vacation cleaning, I did have to make at least one room livable for me for the week. I vacuumed the carpet and changed the sheets – and found in the linen closet the beautiful quilt my grandma made nearly 30 years ago! The last time I had seen it was in her house, after she died. Shortly after my brother moved in there, I asked him if he had the quilt, but he couldn’t remember seeing it. We thought it may have accidentally been sold at a garage sale. I was heartbroken that Grandma’s beautiful handiwork was lost to us. So the highlight of this entire trip will certainly be finding the lovely pink and white quilt in the linen closet, a treasure long thought lost! She always sewed by hand, and her delicate and even stitching is just amazing to me.

It’s always a shock, those first few hours back here in Columbus. I arrive exhausted yet wound up, and coming into my parents’ house, my dad’s house now, is hard. There are traces of my mom still, around the edges kind of, but her touch is buried under the mounds of “stuff” dad accumulates. No place to sit, no place to prepare meals, no place to unpack, no place for me or my memories. As soon as I get here, I want to leave. It makes me very sad.

I had a great time in Spain – even though it was exhausting and I literally wore holes in my feet! Not my shoes, mind you, my feet.

Saturday night was a “White Night” in Madrid, which means all the museums stay open super late (like 2-5 am!) and are free, and the city center was just full of people of all ages – from babies and teenagers to grandmas and grandpas. The conference wrapped up around 6, and by the time we got ourselves sorted out enough to do something for the evening, it was after 8. Then dinner, then making away to the Prado… and then waiting in line to get in. It was nearly 11 by the time we entered the museum, and I was really amazed how many people were taking advantage of the free entrance so late – I mean, there were people pushing babies in strollers around the museum at nearly midnight! But those are not hours for me, especially after a really exhausting week. My eyes glazed over pretty quickly, and I know I was looking at famous and important art, but basically nothing was registering. One painting that did capture my attention was this one, the Immaculate Conception.

The church I attended growing up is called Immaculate Conception, and there was a statue that I now know was based on this painting – Mary standing on a blue globe/ball, stepping on a snake.

Sunday we got up early to catch the first train to Toledo. I desperately wanted to sleep in, but in the end was very glad I didn’t. We had a fabulous day in Toledo, walking around, enjoying the beautiful scenery and lovely weather. We stopped in one shop where the craftsman was working with incredibly fine threads of gold, gently tapping each strand (as thin as a strand of hair) into place within an intricate design on a piece of jewelry. I wanted to take a picture, but the thread of gold was barely visible to the naked eye and for sure wouldn’t show up in a photo. I recognized the style of jewelry immediately- I have several pairs of earrings and a brooch that were my grandma’s. I always kinda knew they were Spanish, but I hadn’t realized they were from Toledo. She could have bought them in that very shop 40 years ago. I’ve been wearing them all week, thinking about her.

Igor insisted that I shouldn’t come back to Kyiv until I had visited Alhambra, and I was very sorry to have to disappoint him when I found out it was a 5 hour train ride from Madrid. But it’s always good to have something to go back for, and I hope we’ll be able to visit Spain together someday.

So it turns out Pandora isn’t a koshka (female cat), but rather is a kot (male cat). Rather embarrassing mistake to make, I must admit. But there are definitely parts there that, at least the last time I had a biology class, were not standard on the female anatomy.

So while Pandora is a good name considering what kinds of disasters we have found in the litter box (I swear, he has crapped more than his own physical weight in one go), it no longer seemed appropriate for the kot. After an absurd amount of time considering other names, we have, ta da!, finally settled on Ziggy. I could probably tell you the long circuitous route that led us to the name, but it’s not a very interesting story.

He is growing literally before our eyes. When I got home from Spain Monday night, I could have sworn he had doubled in the week I had been gone. His new favorite spot, at least that night, was the small gap between the kitchen cupboard and the wall. 3 days later he already cannot fit in that space, although it doesn’t seem to have quite sunk into his tiny little brain yet – he keeps dashing for that gap and banging his head and shoulders into the sides. He’s adorable and we love him, but I don’t think he is destined for greatness in this world.

Here are some pics when he was still itty-bitty and when we still thought he was a girl.
(The amusing irony is that Igor, in his private practice as a psychologist, has 2 transgender clients. When he first told me, while I was in Spain, that the cat was a boy, not a girl, I thought he had been spending too much time with his patients.)

He’s more than doubled since we took these photos, and he is ALL TEETH. Loves to play constantly, but hasn’t figured out that his teeth and claws are not enjoyable to the rest of us.

I’m in Madrid, for the EAIE conference. My flight was at 7:40, so I set the alarm for 5, and being the nervous nelly that I am about having to get up super early, I couldn’t sleep well and finally got up at 3 am. My boss from DC, who is also attending this conference, just called and wants to meet for dinner today. Coffee, where are you? I was fading 2 hours ago already and now I’ve not only got to be socialable, I’ve also got to be professional this evening. Gonna be tough.

It’s been a while since I felt as out of sorts as I do here – guess there’s more egotistical American in me than I care to admit! I fully expected to have no language problems, it’s Europe! Of course they all speak English. Rude awakening, my dear! The hotel restaurant staff understand English about as well as I understand Spanish. Found that out when my “vegetarian” lunch included chicken ceasar salad. Gotta refresh my memory about some key words!

The little piece of Madrid I’ve seen near the hotel is nice. I went for a walk after lunch, but almost all the shops were close 2-5 pm. How quaint! After the lunch ordeal, I wasn’t much up to dealing with shopkeepers. As I passed a shoe store I overheard a young woman say “pyat”. Just figured there was a Spanish word that sounded like the Russian word for “five”. Nope! Those three lovely ladies were russkis all the way, and they were just dumbfounded that shops would close in the afternoon. I have to admit, I was kind of surprised too, but like any good devushka, they figured it was just meant for everybody else and proceeded to ring the door bell, expecting someone to come open the store for them. It was kinda cute, atually, in a weird sort of way. Put me right at ease with my new surroundings.

It’s almost like clockwork – September begins and my allergies kick in – itchy, watery eyes, uncontrollable sneezing (10 in a row was Sunday’s record). I suddenly developed autumn allergies about 8 or 9 years ago, I guess. The first year I didn’t understand that’s what it was, I thought I had a weird cold or something, until a friend gave me a Claritin, which quickly became my new best friend throughout the month of September.

I thought maybe the allergies would go away when I moved abroad, hoped whatever plant aggravated them in central Ohio wouldn’t be in eastern Europe. No such luck! I still have no idea exactly what I’m allergic too, maybe it’s simply the month of September, since the allergies settle back down right around October 1.

The kitten Pandora (aka Panda, aka Panda Bear) has settled in like a true princess. She spent most of her first two and a half days with us sleeping like the dead on whatever lap was made available. We thought she was the sweetest thing ever, snuggled up so cutely, purring away. I don’t know if it was the stress of moving, or exhaustion after her few weeks living the wild and dangerous life of a village cat, but she is completely over it now. The only time she is close to still is when she’s eating, and even then she’s so full of energy she has to do a little dance around her bowl now and then to express her excitement. And she eats like a horse – we can’t keep up! Today I have to stock up again, second time this week. Those first couple of days she happily devoured whatever was in her bowl. Now she haughtily turns up her nose at “just” dry food (even the fancy kitten kind with little balls of dried milk and other delectables); she simply must have her packet with the gourmet sauce. How quickly we forget our roots!

She’s adorable, growing right before our eyes but still can’t jump up on most things so hasn’t destroyed much yet. We can’t keep up with her, she wants to play ALL the time. I can’t believe we were thinking about babies – we don’t have the stamina for a kitten!

And my favorite quote of the week:

It’s a pity we can’t just seriously divide the country in two. On one side, all you people who don’t want “socialism” can go and live without Medicare, municipal sewer systems, roads that are maintained by government funds, running water, fire departments, police departments, national/state/city parks, public libraries, and other such disgusting features of life under brownshirt Obamcare socialism. The rest of us commies will hunker down together in our socialist nightmare and finally craft a universal health care system to go along with the rest of evil socialist empire.

I can’t believe I forgot the visit to the new museum Art Arsenal in my post about Independence weekend! President Yushchenko signed a decree just a few weeks before I arrived in Ukraine in October 2005 to establish arts and cultural museum in the old Soviet-era arsenal factory in Pechersk, just across the street from the Lavra. Over the past four years I have frequently walked past the site, watching the slow but steady progress of renovating the enormous and dilapidated structure. For awhile there wasn’t even a roof on the building that takes up nearly half a city a block. The last few months the progress has been impressive.

Bill and Eilene had noticed a big security detail at the complex on their way to flower festival, and we figured the President must have been there for an official opening. When we walked by after leaving the Lavra territory, I asked if we could pop in to check it out. I don’t know if there will be an entrance fee eventually, but that day it was free.

The space is amazing.

Three wide tall lanes with arched ceilings, like in an Orthodox church, but with unpainted stone and white columns. And huge windows let in tons of natural light. The wide center aisle was open, with a display of Trypillian culture artifacts along the left aisle and modern Ukrainian art along the right aisle.

The displays were spread, seeming almost sparse due to vastness of the museum space itself, but it was nice to not have everything crammed together like in so many museums.

At the far end of the building, in a kind of alcove, chairs were arranged around a piano for a concert later in the evening. I can only imagine how incredible the acoustics are in there. Very exciting the center is finally open!

As I expected would happen, Igor is completely in love with the kitten. He even skipped his regular trip to the gym to stay home with her instead on Monday. I knew he was done for when he called me at work so I could hear through the phone how loudly she was purring. When I got home later in the evening, he was full of stories of all the cute things she’d done all day- playing tag with him, hiding from the vacuum cleaner, “guarding” the couch (ie, sleeping on it quite seriously, as if to keep it from running off) and eating, eating, eating.

There had been enormous amounts of intake, but no outflow. She looked like an overstuffed sausage on four tiny legs – I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an enormous belly on such a little creature. I finally picked her up and put her directly into her litter box, where she promptly sat down and looked up at me. A moment later an idea seemed to occur to her, and she starting scratching around. Mission accomplished! About 5 minutes later she went back to her box on her own for round 2.

A short time later, Igor started calling her Pandora. It kinda stuck. Lots of cute ways to diminutize it in Russian (and English too, actually). So, I think we have a name.

She was full of spunk after losing some of that belly, and we laughed hard at her antics. Finally curled up on the couch with the loud loud purring in my ear. Awww. She is just too damn cute.

We had a little romp this morning, then breakfast, and now she’s napping in my lap. OK, I am totally in love with her too, we have both lost it completely.

Two awesome weekends in a row – woohoo!

Independence Day weekend was great, but more than we could handle. Igor and I went to the Kyiv auto market on Saturday afternoon (completely unrelated to the weekend festivities, but an interesting side adventure on its own). Not a lot going on, being a holiday weekend in late August when most of the country is on vacation at the sea. But I learned some colorful new words as we walked around among the rather tough-looking men who seem to spend a lot of time there. I tried one out and got a shocked look from Igor – will have to save them up for moments when shock factor may be needed.

We had “dinner and a movie” night at Sasha’s, where we watched the hilarious “One, Two, Three” with James Cagney. Sasha said it’s hugely popular in Germany, but none of us Americans had even heard of it. Some of the jokes haven’t survived the test of time, but for those of us who grew up during the Cold War and still sometimes find it hard to believe we now LIVE in the land of the former Evil Empire, it was a fun flick to watch.

Being the popular people that we are, Igor and I went to an Independence Day party after movie night, hosted by a Ukrainian-American woman. Igor and I find the diaspora crowd very interesting, but that really deserves its own post. The party was interesting, let’s just leave it at that for now.

Sunday we went to the Flower Festival, where different neighborhoods around Kyiv create beautiful works of horticulture art. The theme this year was Fairy Tales, and most of them were really impressive.

This seascape, with an octopus king and little fishies, was my favorite.

But the crowds of people were really too much for us. It was difficult to move around, almost impossible to see some of the displays, and truly impossible to walk back up out of the park against the flow of people coming down into it. We scouted out an alternative route down and along the side of the hill, and ended up just below the Lavra, by the holy spring I had heard about but had never walked down to see.

There was a lovely rose garden, and a heck of a lot less people, so we enjoyed the elbow room and a calm walk among the roses.

Bill enjoyed the bench.

Smart guy – we still had the hill to walk back up!

We rounded out the day with dinner at our favorite “Sushi Ya!” restaurant, which always hits the spot. On our way home, Igor and I stopped at the grocery store for a couple of things, and were intrigued by a special display of Indonesian and Vietnamese teas. We bought a little of both and dragged our exhausted selves home to try it out. Well, it was as black and strong as espresso, and just one cup get us both wide awake until 2 am! So much for our plans to get up early on Monday to meet Bill and Eilene for the Independence Day parade. We were still asleep when Eilene called at 8:30, and although we felt really bad for bailing on our friends, we were still exhausted and also not really ready to face another immense crowd of people. Bill and Eilene stuck it out as long as they could, but I guess they eventually had enough of being pushed and shoved and stepped on, too, and left before much of the parade was underway.

We finally got up to watch the end of the parade on TV and we heard the air force jets on their fly by (which sounded quite impressive, I have to say! even though we didn’t see the actual planes, we couldn’t have missed the sound). We celebrated Ukraine’s 18th year of independence at home, quietly yet proudly.

This past weekend we celebrated another holiday – Bill’s birthday! We were delighted that he and Eilene accepted our invitation to visit Igor’s family for the weekend and to celebrate his big day in Korosten with us. Igor went up on Friday, and Dad, Bill and Eilene headed up early Saturday morning. We were greeted, as usual, by a gorgeous table with enough to feed an army. We worked hard on it, and finally we all succumbed to food comas in mid-afternoon. A round of naps was thoroughly enjoyed by all. In the evening we went to the lovely city park, which seems to have something new every time we visit. The weather was perfect, there had been lots of weddings throughout the day, and there were still many families and groups of friends picnicking, strolling, and just generally enjoying the beauty of the park. There were some new signs encouraging people not to litter, which really impressed me. I hope they have some influence!

Sunday we started the day with a visit to the Korosten market. Eilene has been wanting to buy some Korosten china, but the factory recently closed its doors for good and my beloved factory shop has closed down, too. I asked Igor’s mom is she knew anyone with a garage full of china (since the factory was notorious for paying its employees in product instead of with actual currency), but she couldn’t get ahold of anyone right then. She told Igor about a couple stands in the market that usually sell Korosten china, so we went on a mission, which quickly expanded in focus.

Dad remembered that he needed a jacket, since he’d forgotten to bring one with him on this trip. Igor took him to vendor with leather coats and in a matter of minutes Dad was the proud owner of a really sharp leather jacket. Being the full-service kind of place that it is, the vendor walked us over to the nearby seamstress, who within the hour had shortened the sleeves and resewn the buttons – total cost, coat and alternations, under $120!

Bill got a new leather wallet, Eilene got a lovely Korosten china coffee set, we both got cool baskets. Oh, and Campsey’s got a 40-liter pot to make sauerkraut and Dad got a french press so he can finally have coffee at home. All in all, a very successful trip to the market!

The only challenge was packing it all in the car with enough room left for food Igor’s parents heaped on us – bags and bags of fresh tomatoes (last of the season!), pears and apples. No surprise, we somehow managed to get it all in!

We visited Igor’s dad in the village for a few minutes, and were delighted to see a half-dozen okra plants had grown to a decent size and produced a bit of fruit. Bill and Eilene had brought the seeds at Easter time, so it was probably a bit late for planting, but nonetheless, they got a couple handfuls of okra this year, and hopefully we’ll have an even better harvest next year. The American pumpkins were true to their origins – supersized! Next item we want to introduce to Ukraine: acorn squash!

As we walked around the farm, admiring the garden and the growing animals, a little black kitten romped along with us, following us like a puppy dog. Igor’s father said she had shown up a while back and he couldn’t resist her, so he’d been feeding her, letting her inside the house and even trained her to use a litter box. She just loved everyone, purring like a fiend when I picked her up and scratched her. Ivan invited us to take her home, which thrilled me. Igor was a bit reluctant, but with the added pressure from my father and our friends, he caved pretty quickly. She was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen a cat in a car- curled right up and went to sleep for most of the 2 hour trip, purring away. Not in the least bit fazed or nervous. No crying, not even a little peep.

After dropping everyone else off, we stopped to get cat supplies, including flea shampoo, and headed home. She didn’t fuss a bit when I clipped her nails (front and back!), but of course the flea bath was more than any cat could take. But she survived it, and even seemed to enjoy the blow dry a bit. She scarfed down a full bowl of food and spent the rest of the evening curled up with us on the couch, motor running! We were starting to get nervous about whether or not she’d use her box, and so we were quite relieved when we heard her scratching around in it early in the morning. She slept with us all night, and is still curled up close to Igor snoozing away. It’s going to be hard to go to work today!

Ivan was calling her Cheetah, but we haven’t decided yet to keep that name or go with something different. She’s all black, with rusty highlights behind her ears and on the back of her neck, and she’s got one white whisker. Panther seems like the more appropriate namesake, but it doesn’t seem to be sticking either. She’s way to sweet and loving, and just the tiniest little thing, to be a panther, I think. Any suggestions?