Happy Spring, Almost

Not even a full day after arriving in the village, the best cluster in Peace Corps Ukraine 49 (sorry, everyone else…) experienced the folkloreish wonder that is Maslena.

There was dancing. There was music. There were pieces of wood being tied around unmarried and confused PCTs arms.

There were boots being kicked very high.

And not so high. There were blinis (crepes) eaten, and a tray with vodka and slices of fat passed around and passed up.

 

 

 

There was May Pole-esque dancing.

There were potatoes being thrown into a basket.

In Orthodox tradition, Maslena signals the start of Lent. If we dig into Slavic mythology, Maslena is a festival that celebrates the end of winter and a welcoming of spring. The sub-freezing temperatures and light flurries didn’t exactly scream vernal delight, but I’m optimistic that the aftereffects from burning the effigy of winter (I think…) will kick in any day now. (Hello, global warming. Are you there?)

 

It was a pretty surreal start to our time in this little town we’ll call home for the next three months.

In the days since then, I’ve spent a fair amount of time sitting in my LCF/Language and Cross Cultural Facilitator’s house, studying the language. We’ve trekked into Chernihiv for community development sector training, medical meetings that included shots and a safe sex chat with an unexpected lifelike accessory. Last week Thursday we met with the village administrator to introduce ourselves and chat about potential projects. This week we met with two other potential partner organizations to introduce ourselves and see what projects they have available. My days have been filled been filled with happiness at the wonderful people I’m lucky enough to have surround me and the inevitable frustration that comes along with being illiterate and unable to form simple sentences. Sadly, unlike a two year facing the same struggle, it isn’t exactly socially acceptable for me to throw myself on the ground, screaming and crying. Still, I find myself picking out more words by the day, and celebrating the small successes like being able to understand my host mother asking what time classes begin in the morning.

Cheesy as it may be, I’m choosing to think about Maslena not only as a welcoming of spring, but a welcoming of a season in my own life where things begin to grow. The foundation I lay here in this village during PST will hugely influence my successes over the next twenty-seven months, and I’m ready. I think?