I've been meaning to post a blog about my experience at the Ostroh workcamp for several weeks now, I even started one that I never finished. It's been a very stressful month. The workcamp itself was stressful. Nine volunteers from Germany, France, Japan, and the States get mixed in with four Ukrainians from Ecoclub and me, the lowly PCV. The camp went over well - at least in terms of the goals that we had set out to accomplish. We insulated the windows in all three buildings of the orphanage. Honestly, I don't even know exactly how many there was, but it was a lot. You can see them on the pictures I've posted with this travel log.
You may be wondering what made the experience at the workcamp stressful, and I swear, I'll try and explain, but there are so many things that I know words simply can not express. First of all, Ukraine. It often seems to me that the country itself is trying to stop me from doing what I'm supposed to doing here. Nathan, the one American volunteer, had his luggage lost before we ever got to Ostroh. Two days of waiting for the bags, and still somehow it became my fault according to the delivery man who finally arrived two days after Nathan had. Once I finally got to Ostroh things seemingly settled down. Then I get the phone call from Regine. "Maggie, I'm getting kicked out of my apartment on Saturday, can I move in with you?" Sure, the landlord gave her two weeks notice, but her site was unable to find her an apartment in that alotted time. So, I spent about three days in Ostroh, where I got to know the volunteers, made origami, and played with the eight stray puppies that lived near the orphanage. That weekend I came back to Rivne to help Regine move into my place and get ready for Ukrainian Independence Day, when the volunteers were going to come to Rivne, stay at my place and at Olya's place, and have a big party. I got ready. Kind of.
Ukrainian Independence Day -
I'm supposed to meet the volunteers in the center of the city. I start walking to the bus stop when I realize there are NO buses running. So I walk. It takes over an hour to get there due to all the festivities. Needless to say, the volunteers were not there waiting for me when I arrived. Pissed and tired I try and find a public phone. That was the silliest idea ever. I finally go to the post office to use the phone there. I am informed by Tolik that they waited for a long time, and that they are meeting at 7pm to go to dinner at Olya's. So, I walk to the bus station - on the other side of town to pick up my friend Devon who's coming in from Lutsk for the holiday. I meet Regine at the bus station, Devon arrives, and we go back to drop off Devon's stuff at my apartment. We get in touch with Tolik and meet him at 5:30 at Ecoclub to meet the volunteers at 7. We got to the meeting point and were waiting for the rest of our group when IT happened. Little jerky teenagers snagged Malte's (one of the German guys) backpack, tickets back to Berlin inside. Immediately he yells and runs with Nathan (the American) in hot pursuit of the culprits. They turn the corner into an alley between two buildings and are assaulted by four of the thieves¡¦ friends who have been lying in wait for the owner of the backpack to come running around the corner. Needless to say two against four aren't the best odds, and a few scratches and bruises resulted from the altercation. At this point Tolik returned from the post office where he was looking for the rest of the group. Next step, look for a militia man. Thousands of people in the street, and not a militia man to be seen, and suddenly there one is stumbling in the crowd. Meanwhile Tania and Olya have gone off in search for help as well. After half an hour, or so, two militia men arrive. Tolik, Malte, and Nathan go with them to file a report and look around for the backpack (maybe the little thieves dumped it somewhere). They were gone for over two hours. When they came back it was apparent that the experience at the militia station was exceptional. Drunk. The entire police force of Rivne, along with all the Rivne-ites were drunk. Independence Day. No wonder. The story ends like this: the backpack was never recovered. Malte and Katja (his girlfriend) had to buy tickets back to Berlin again (at twice the original price), and the Ukrainians were embarassed because of their countrymen.
That evening continued to be interesting, but I'm not going to go into it in details. Basically, we were all hungry and tired, and the Ukrainian organizers of the fieldtrip to Rivne weren't prepared with accomodations for fifteen people. We finally got dinner around 11 that night, and the vodka flowed freely. I went home around 2 but heard the stories from the people that stayed at Olya's (where the party was)... let's just say there were a few hangovers the following day. Lesson: don't mix regular vodka with samohon (the homemade stuff).
Ostroh.
We returned to the small town the following day (Monday) in the evening. Ando (the other German guy) stayed in Rivne with Regine at my apartment. He wasn't feeling well, so we decided it was best for him to stay and recuperate. Regine was planning on coming to Ostroh on Wednesday to go on the tour of the Khmelnitsky nuclear power plant... only 12 kilometers from Ostroh, so Ando would accompany her then back to the orphange.
Most of the day had been devoted to recovery from the night before. As we arrived in Ostroh, many of the volunteers were heard vowing never to drink again. After several months in Ukraine, I let out a little chuckle whilst hearing their personal promises to themselves. Most people went right to bed that night, a few of us made a light snack for dinner and relaxed for the rest of the evening; playing with the puppies and talking about the eventful weekend in Rivne. The next morning we started working on the academic buildings at the orphanage (we'd finished the sleeping quarters). We worked hard until lunch time. Every day that we worked in the orphanage became more and more difficult. It wasn't the work itself that was hard as much as looking at the state the building and its windows. Many of the windows were in such a sad state that there was nothing we could do to insulate them. The buildings that housed the orphanage are over 100 years old, and in truth, they probably won't stand for much longer, even with all the repairs that are constantly happening. We went to lunch at the local hotel that had been catering some of our meals for us. Just as I was finishing my soup Tolik's cell phone rang. It was Regine. Tolik had some difficulty understanding what she was saying and handed the phone off to me. All I heard was, "Maggie, Ando's really sick. I've talked to the PC doctor and we need to take him to the hospital." The phone cut off. No more money for minutes, and no where to buy more cell phone minutes in Ostroh. Tolik and I went to the post office to try and call - it was closed. So, I got on the next marshrutka (minibus) to Rivne and was there in a little less than an hour.
Ando.
I walked into my apartment to a note from Regine saying that they were at the hospital on Miryshenka Street, and a phone number of the doctor treating Ando. I called the hospital, miraculously found Regine, and told her I was on my way. I arrived a little later than I had intended because the taxi I called never showed up.
Unfortunately, I didn't know exactly how to get to the hospital using public transportation. I got a cab on the street and found Regine and Ando on the second floor speaking with two doctors. Regine informed me that her Russian skills had just been called "ploha" or bad. I tried to help with Ukrainian. What I learned was that Ando was to return the following day, preferably with a translator, to have a blood analysis done. Swell, guess we're not going to tour the nuclear power plant. Oh well, at least I won't get irradiated, I thought.
Ando and I arrived at the hospital the following morning and got a stack of little papers with room numbers where we were to go for the various tests. First, we dropped off a "sample" collected that morning in an empty peanut butter container. Next, we got in line at the hemotology lab to have blood drawn. I felt horrible for Ando who was tired and weak from his illness, and still had to stand in line with Ukrainians who even pushed sick people in hospital lines. We finally got our turn in the laboratory when I was asked by the nurse where our supplies were. Huh? What supplies? What no one had informed us was that we should have purchased cotton swabs, alcohol, bandaids, a needle/syringe, and a latex glove for the imminent blood analysis. Right. Well, instead we paid a few kopecks and they took the blood. The nurse used a little razor blade to cut Ando's finger, then inadvertenly dropped the thing. What shocked me most is that she intended on using the same blade on another finger. I insisted that they bleed the one cut more, and that if need be I would pay for another blade, but that there was no way she would use the blade that had been on the floor on Ando's other finger!
After the blood analysis we went to the rentgen chamber. X-rays. Ando and I entered the room to find two nurses discussing something in Russian. I handed the larger of the two women the sheet of paper with the prescription for the x-ray written on it. I was then told to pay for the film and developing. Free healthcare, and Ando had insurance. Right. The nurse asked me to accompany her and Ando into the x-ray room to translate what she was going to do. Ando and I both thought they were going to take a chest x-ray to make sure it wasn't pneumonia... however, as soon as he started taking his shirt off, she told him to stop and walked him over to a chair. She took him by the shoulders and sat him down facing the wall. Ando and I wondered outloud... "Why do they need an x-ray of my head?" Ando asked. "Hmmm, as if I know." I continued to translate - "Ando, put your chin to the line she's pointing at. Now, open your mouth. Yup, that's what she said. Now she says, don't breathe." At this point she turned to me and yelled, "Run!!!!" Jesus. I thought the world was ending as she pushed me out the door of the room, slammed the door shut, and pushed a button. Out of breath, and absolutely calm, she said, "Good. We can go back in. It's finished. Please wait in the hallway." Never in my life have I experienced such a serious x-ray. I know that I can't be in the room when the x-ray is being taken, but honestly, to run out of the room, in fear.... that, I was not expecting. And there I had thought that I had no reason to worry about being irradiated. I guess I wasn't expecting a visit to a Ukrainian hospital.
We returned to the doctor who handed us one more piece of paper, explaining that since the x-ray was normal (no sinus trouble) Ando should do one more test to see what his lung capacity was like. We decended into the bowels of the building to room #7 where the lung capacity machine was. Actually, this room was quite nice, and the machine was hooked up to a computer. I talked to the nurse doing the test, and explained to Ando what was involved. I translated, "breathe in, breathe out, ok, now all the way out..." over and over. And then, it was finished.
I returned to the hospital the following afternoon to get the results of the tests. The doctors informed me that everything seemed to be normal, but that they'd like to check Ando into the hospital for observation. I told them it wasn't an option, and that he would stay at my apartment until he would go back to Berlin. That was that. Three days of hospital and doctors, needles and tubes. It was an experience I never want to repeat. I consider myself very lucky that I have the PCMOs (Peace Corps Medical Officers) in Kyiv to take care of me. Ando slept in my bed, Regine slept in the other one, and I slept on the floor - for a week. Ando and Anke (his friend) were the last to leave Rivne after the workcamp. I think Ando got better once he was in Germany, but I haven't heard from him since he left. Anything would be better than that hospital. Really.
Me and my last rabies shot.
When I thought I was going to be in Ostroh that last week of the insulation instead of in Rivne, I had sent my last rabies shot to Ostroh with Andriy. I had brought it with me to Rivne a week before in a rather large ice chest - it has to be kept cold. I instructed Andriy (four times in English and Ukrainian) to put the vaccine in the refrigerator at the orphanage, NOT the freezer. After the three day hospital adventure, I went back to Ostroh on Friday to get my shot. One of the volunteers, Djamila (from Strausbourg, France) happened to be a doctor, so she had agreed to administer the shot. I arrived at Ostroh, found Djamila and went to the kitchen to get my shot. Tania and Olya were getting ready for the last picnic with the volunteers and were busy making salads and loading bags with sausage and food for the picnic lunch.
Djamila got the ice chest, thinking the vaccine would still be in there. I told her it should be in the fridge since that's where I had asked Andriy to put it. I started looking for it between the milk, eggs, and other food for the camp. I started to panic. And then I opened the freezer. Eff. There is sat, waiting to be uncovered by yours truly. I took it out of the freezer with Djamila mumbling behind me in French. "We can't use it. It is no good. Merde." My sentiments exactly. Especially because I didn't want to go to Kyiv again. I used Olya's cell phone to call Dr. Valery in Kyiv. He, of course, informed me that I would have to be in the office the following morning to get the last vaccine. Again, swell.
I took the 3am marshrutka with Nicole (the other French woman from Bordeaux) and arrived in Kyiv around 7. 9am I got my shot. 10:30 had breakfast at the Stoned Baboon, a restaurant near the PC office, and by noon had sent Nicole off in a cab to the airport. I was back in Rivne by 6pm, and had one last mini-party with the volunteers before they all left. It was fun. Honestly, really stressful, but in retrospect, fun.
The morning that everyone left was incredible. I relaxed for two days and did absolutely nothing. I ate and read and decompressed. Had I known what was to come I would have taken more time.
A little short comment about Rivne since the camp.
Regine moved out this last Saturday. After several debaucles involving purchasing a refridgerator and a wardrobe, she¡¦s finally in her own apartment. It was actually great to have a roomate. We saved money on food, and always had someone to talk to in the evening. Her new apartment is closer than her old one was to me, it only take about 15 minutes to walk there. Now she¡¦s got hot water and a real bed! It¡¦s a great apartment, definitely worth the trouble it caused. However, I genuinely hope that Regine¡¦s coordinator at her site gets the stick removed that¡¦s currently living in her ass. She¡¦s not a nice girl, and seems to enjoy causing trouble. She consistently translates wrong for Regine, and refuses to help her with simple issues, like now that she has a wardrobe, who¡¦s going to help her put it together? Hopefully things will get better for Regine at her site. I¡¦ve got my fingers crossed, because if Regine leaves my PCV life will be a lot more difficult. She¡¦s going to America for two weeks while Alec is here in Ukraine. I think this will be a good break for her. I kind of wish I was going too. fº
I'm currently facing some really difficult stuff at my site. My director/coordinator is awesome. He's really becoming a great leader and it's a pleasure to work with him and the other people here at the Ecoclub office. And then there's the lone American in Kyiv. This particular guy works in cooperation with Ecoclub and has done so for just over a year. He's married to a Ukrainian woman who happens to be a "founding" member of Ecoclub, but she no longer plays an active role in the organization since they had a child. American guy thinks himself to be an integral member of the organization and enjoys asserting his masculinity and superior intellect when working with my fellow Ecoclub peeps. He's been causing an incredible amount of confict recently regarding things that I am not going to go into right now. However, because he is such a big man, he has also suggested that he conduct a seminar on conflict resolution for Ecoclub. Let's say I don't particularly like this individual. Of course, there's much more to this issue, but I've just rattled off a lot of information in this blog, and am sure that this little American guy thing will shortly have more to it. So, stay tuned to the saga that is Peace Corps.
What's great is that I'm actually being effective. I can see positive changes in my organization already... but geez... if it's not a Ukrainian hospital or thieves, then it's the jerk American that thinks he's better than everyone else. Never a dull day in Ukraine!
Cheers!
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