A Gem From Class

Some boys in my eleventh grade class produced something last week that I just had to share. we were writing dialogues to fit pictures that I had passed out. This dialogue was meant to be between a young boy and girl:

- Hi! My name is Kuzma. I am 13, and you?
- Hello! My name is Galka, I am 12.
- You a very beautiful girl.
- Oh, no! I am a simple, simple girl. But whatever, thank you!
- Give me please you number of telephone.
- Okey, but first you must do one my pleasure.
- All you want.
- You will be kill three-heads dragon, he lives in Karpaty (the Carpathian Mountains)
- Why, you afraide him?
- Every year he flied in our village and eat one beautiful girl. I am a next.
- Oh no! I kill him my jedi sword. Good buy, my love, wait me with victory.
2 month later
- Galka! Galka! Where are you my darling?
- I here, Kuzma, come to me!
- I kill that dragon (one left hand) and now, give me you telephone number.
- Kuzma, sorry but for this 2 month telephone is broken.
- Marring me Galka I love you!
- Okey, Kuzma I am stay with you.
They live long and happy and die in one day.

You can't make this stuff up.

Up next: birthday and St. Patrick's Day, hopefully with pictures.

More Basketball

Two weeks ago our team competed in a second tournament, this time in Kakhovka, a medium-sized city two hours by bus down the river towards the capitol, Kherson. To our disappointment, only two other teams showed: Kakhovka (the hosts) and Rohachyk (a small, funny sounding village north of Lepetykha - I guess that's the pot calling the kettle black). Our team was joined by three recent graduates who now study at the institute in Kherson: Yura, Zhenya, and Maks. Yura is great with the ball and a lights-out shooter, probably the best player on our team. Zhenya hustles and drives to the hoop like he's Allen Iverson, which has mixed results. Maks is lanky and can shoot 3's. These three, myself, and Kostya (Rubanovka's star player, who joined us for the tournament) made up the starting five.

We beat Rohachyk like a rented mule. The second half they only scored two points. If that game had been the movie "Police Academy," their team would have been the bad guys and our team would have been Tackleberry(sp?).

Kakhovka is the best team in the Oblast, and although they beat us, we gave them a run for their money. I think we had the skill to beat them, but they had the psychological edge. This was partly due to homefield advantage and partly to do with the ogre they had playing guard. He was great with the ball and could slam dunk. He also had a bad attitude. The rest of their team was mediocre, but we just couldn't calm down. I think we lost by six.

The next Wednesday was the annual student-faculty game. We also rocked them, our four against their five. Myself and our phys. ed. teacher, Valentin Oleksandrovych - Valik, could play. The two janitors (male teachers are rare in Ukraine) could not. It was quite a spectacle. Faculty represented.

I know it probably seems like I am obsessing over basketball, but honestly speaking that's the most interesting thing I've got going on right now. School, GRE prep, and the search for grad programs aren't much fun to write about. I read a lot (John D. MacDonald, Stephen King, and a book on the Russian revolution most recently) for fun, play a little bandura, and travel every other weekend. I'd say boredom is a sure sign I've adjusted to my environment. Fortunately March and beyond are shaping up to be rather interesting. I'll do my best to update you on the progress.

coming soon: My birthday & St. Patrick's Day in Kyiv, Spring Break in the west (Poland? Katie?), and the Hanes Invasion.

basketball tournament

To those who have been checking the site over the last couple of months expecting an update, I apologize for the delay. In an effort to atone for my lack of updates, this one will be a "double whammy." From now on I'll do my best to keep to my promise of one update every two weeks, or at the very least once a month, so keep checking.

First, I would like to say in my own defense that I do have some reasonable excuses for being a deadbeat blogger. Number one on my litany of excuses is my trip back to Wisconsin for the winter holidays. It was great to be back and see family and friends, drive a car, go to the movies, eat American cuisine (El Azteca, Sueanne's bagels - lord I missed those). Unfortunately I forgot to take pictures over break. I have a few pics that my mom took on my camera, but those are of - as anyone who knows Cindy Hanes should be able to guess - the dogs. No family, although technically Sam's leg is in a couple of those photos, so if I ever get nostalgic for the ass-kickings of my youth I guess these pics can help me out with that. My other excuse involves a trip to Kyiv in late January that I was obliged to make not long after my return to Velyka Lepetykha. So give me a break, I've been busy.

As you may have deduced from the title of this entry, I recently took part in a basketball tournament. This was a complete surprise to me; there was no mention of this earlier and I showed up Saturday morning expecting a pickup game as usual. If living in Ukraine has taught me anything, it is to keep a flexible schedule. I went with it. Tournament? Sure, let's go.

Two recent graduates from my school, three current students, the phys. ed. teacher and myself represented Velyka Lepetykha in a round-robin against three other teams from the region. One of those teams consisted of only five inexperienced high school students and had no coach, so I sat the bench for that one. The other two were from the same village, Rubanovka, the "A" and "B" teams. We made short work of the B squad and it became evident that this would be a two-team tournament. The final against Rubanovka A was a tight game and tempers were flaring. We had one ref, an older man who didn't know much about the rules of the game, and he took a good deal of abuse from players on both sides (although more so from their players, including their forty-something year old coach who has obviously never heard of "being the bigger man"). Our side played well and won the first half but lost our stride late in the third quarter and never got it back. We lost 58-42.

Our second place prize was a basketball worth sixty hryvnias (twelve dollars). Without discussion, we took the ball to the "supermarket," sold it, ad split the profits. I declined my share on the pretext that Peace Corps volunteers aren't allowed to earn money while serving (actually a rule) but they persisted. As much as Ukrainians are short of money, I find most of them scorn the idea of charity, which was what they saw my refusal as. I took the money and treated my teammates to a round of beers (NA for the minors), which was not below their pride.

This Friday we will be taking part in another tournament in Kakhovka. I'll try to remember to take my camera this time and take some pictures.

Concert

As I think I have alluded to in earlier entries, I take lessons at the local music school on the bandura, a Ukrainian folk instrument that looks something like a cross between a harp and a guitar. I have been going most days after school for about a year. I've played a few gigs at the village culture house and at my school, both solo and duets with my teacher, Olya. Last Wednesday we played a concert, although I'm still not sure what the occasion was. I think it had something to do with veterans. Here's us before the concert in our traditional Ukrainian costumes.



I have another picture but am having problems loading images, I'll try to get it up soon.

Velyka Lepetykha

The name itself is somewhat of a mystery; "velyka" means "big," but there are conflicting accounts of the origins of "lepetykha," a nonsense word. Ivan Bastiuk, author of our school newsletter (as well as the above article about me), offers several explanations. Three attribute the name to the twoFrench counts who were the first proprietors of the land that would become the village. Perhaps their name was something like "Lepetykha." Or it could come from the word "lepetaty," which means to babble or prattle, as in "what are those Frenchmen babbling on about over there?" The supposed French origins are supported by the "Le" beginning, which may come from the French definite article; maybe the counts called the area "Le (something-or-other)," which the locals heard as "Lepetykha." The fourth explanation comes from an anecdote about Catherine the Great. Passing the area as she was sailing down the Dnipro, she is said to have described it as "lepo" (an old Russian word meaning beautiful) and "tikho" (quiet). Perhaps the most likely explanation comes from a command given to rowers on boats that were trying to pass stealthily through unfriendly territory: "lyapay tykho," meaning "paddle quietly." So nobody is really sure where the name comes from, but when pressed for a short answer I usually give the last explanation. I like the idea of living in "Big Paddle Quietly."

Big Paddle Quietly is in the south-central part of Ukraine in the Kherson region directly to the north of Crimea. The weather here is allegedly warmer than most other parts of the country, although after last winter I believe that must have been a cruel joke. The region is almost entirely steppe, which is great for farmers, but doesn't provide particularly riveting scenery (and I used to live in Iowa). Agriculture is the main industry, with some shipbuilding and other maritime ventures near the city of Kherson, where the Dnipro meets the Black Sea.

Ironically, Big Paddle Quietly is tiny. I put it in the bottom tenth percentile of volunteer sites with regard to population. In some ways this is good (quaint charm, intimacy, fresh air), in other ways it's not (lack of resources, difficulty of transportation, the gossip factor). Good and bad, I've adjusted to life here and I manage to enjoy it most days, a fact I attribute more to the people than the village.


The village slopes downhill toward the Dnipro, the main river of Ukraine, which provides wonderful scenery. When I leave my apartment, if it's not too foggy, I can look down the hill 150 yards and see it. People bathe in the river during the summer. I didn't make it last summer, but it's on my list of things to do next summer. The buildings around here are also nice to look at. They make more adventurous color choices here, opting for bright yellows, lavenders, and other colors I don't see in the states too often. The residential areas mostly conform to a powder-blue color scheme. Deteriorated exteriors and overgrown foliage give the village an ancient, woodsy feel.


Lenin used to stand in every village and city center, although as you move west he has been replaced with other Ukrainian icons, most often the nationalist poet Taras Shevchenko (who I might add has a killer moustache that puts Lenin's goatee to shame). Velyka Lepetykha still has their Lenin, but for the most part he is ignored.


The riverside district is scenic, but a but depressing. Before the economic crisis of the 1990s, when people still had money, passenger liners used to float down the river, offering passage to Crimea, Odessa, and ports abroad, like Istanbul. The now defunct ticket office for these routes that no longer run is a sad spectacle loaded with symbolism.

Another symbolic edifice-- and my favorite-- is the unfinished church. It fell into disrepair during communist times, and now it's being refurbished with a new paint job and some shiny new golden domes. The repairs are headed by a priest from western Ukraine fixed up a church in a neighboring village in the same fashion (I went to this church last Easter and met this priest-- the church is amazing, the priest a wonder as well). When I lived with the Dyakovs, I walked by this church on the way to and from school. I started to write a poem about it in Ukrainian for publication in our Peace Corps newsletter, but like the church itself, it is still being worked on.



The village of Velyka Lepetykha has its own website(!)

There are some good pics on the site. Good luck navigating it if you don't speak Russian.



This is a robot bear. If you can name what book this is from, I'll give you a dollar.

I don't know if you've heard, but I'm kind of a big deal around here...

This is an article about me that was published in our village newspaper written by a Ukrainian teacher at my school. I have a word file of the original if any Ukrainian-speakers are interested. Flattery is his, awkwardness of translation mine.

"American in Lepetykha"

That the world is becoming more open to each of us, and we more open to the world, is undoubtedly good. This is one of the signs of modernity. Twenty years ago one could not have imagined that a citizen of the USA would be living and working in Velyka Lepetykha, and that we would all accept this as an every-day fact. But just that has happened. In December 2005 the first American to live and work in Velyka Lepetykha became the twenty-three year-old Benjamin Arthur Hanes. Today he is an English teacher at school #1.

Officially students address him as Mr. Hanes, teachers and friends simply by his shortened name-- Ben. Tall, likeable, with an athletic build, an open appearance, and always a friendly smile, Ben has somehow naturally inserted himself into the pedagogical and student collectives of the school and at first acquaintance he appears like one of us, like a Ukrainian. He speaks pure Ukrainian, though sometimes, true, he must pause to search for a word.

There is an organization in the USA called the Peace Corps. Its goal is the humanitarian progress of connecting the USA with the world, and the broadening of knowledge about the USA throughout the world. Ben is one of the present 300 Peace Corps volunteers in Ukraine. Ben's parents live in the city of Neenah in the state of Wisconsin. His father is a partner at a local law firm, his mother works as a secretary at a different firm. They have four children, all male. Ben is third of the four. By American standards this is a middle-sized family. Ben is of international lineage: his mother's ancestors are Danes and Swedes, his father's from Scotland, Ireland, and England. His parents' forebears came to the USA in the middle of the nineteenth century.

As Ben answers: "I finished college with majors in Russian and music at a college in the state of Iowa in 2005. I applied to the Peace Corps immediately after finishing college. They don't accept everyone who applies. They are fairly exclusive, since it is prestigious and may be useful for a future career. I wanted to see the world, and secondly, to have time to decide what to do with my life. I also wanted to learn a another Slavic language. I chose Ukrainian. At first I studied for three months in Ukrainian schools." Plans for the future? "After returning home, I want to continue studying, perhaps journalism. The term of my work at the Velyka Lepetykha School No. 1 lasts until December 2007. I don't receive payment from the school, Peace Corps pays me a living allowance. It's a modest sum." (The phrase "living allowance" struck me with its depth of national meaning(?). We rarely use it).

I ventured to ask the question -- is Ben married? "No. Americans marry late, usually around the age of 27-30. But it does happen sometimes right out of high school. My friend got married when he was 21. That's too early for me: I want to have some life experience, finish my education, start a career, and find an apartment or a house first." In their culture it isn't acceptable to "hang on the necks of our parents" (as they say in our culture).

Lepetykhans know Ben from his amateur artistic performances at the regional Culture House. More than once he has performed on our stage as a singer of Ukrainian folk songs and bandurist. "I started doing these performances on my own initiative. For a few months I learned how to play the bandura with an excellent teacher at the music school named Olga Valentinivna Mihley." Why did he learn this instrument? "Because this is one of the oldest Ukrainian stringed instruments. Learning it helps me gain a deeper understanding of the Ukrainian soul. Also, the bandura is very melodic. Learning the instrument was made easier by the fact that I studied music in the past, although it was the trombone." Now he plays the bandura too. As a duet with Olga Valentinivna they have played "Vzyav by Ya Banduru," "Ishli Voly iz Dibrovy," "Oy chy to Kin' Stoyit'" and others. In the evening he also plays basketball in the school gym.

Olga Valentinivna Mihley comments: "Ben is a gifted musician, sings beautifully, and learns quickly. He is mastering the bandura well, though the instrument is much different from the trombone. Listeners respond to Ben with 'bravo!'" Antonina Viktorivna Krivov'yaz, English teacher, and 10th grade student Inna Drobot agree: a pleasant, polite person. "His teaching methods are based on games, the lessons are interesting."

How do his parent's feel about Ben's stay in Ukraine? "Like any parents: mom worries, dad is more interested in what I'm doing. They both plan to visit Ukraine, maybe sometime next spring."

At the end of our meeting I asked if he would be against naming the article "American in Lepetykha." He smiled sincerely: "And why? As I see it, that's the truth!"

And that's how I see it, too: a concrete, good example helping us put in context the large political and moral problems of international relations between people of different cultures. The task of uniting the peoples of the world is both ours and theirs -- Ukrainian and American. This is how it should take place in civilized communities.

The importance of speaking Ukrainian.

I submitted this article to newsletter run by PC-Ukraine volunteers. It concerns the politics of language in Ukraine, a country where both Ukrainian and Russian are spoken although only the former is official. I should add that around the time I submitted this article I also sent an email some PC staff expressing some of the same concerns brought up here, and in response to this email the director of PC-Ukraine has since called me and put my mind at ease regarding the policies for deciding what language volunteers are trained in. I don’t want this to be construed as a criticism of Peace Corps policy—I am sure they share my concerns on the language issue and only have the best interests of Ukraine in mind.


The Importance of Speaking Ukrainian
Ben Hanes
TEFL XXIX, Velyka Lepetykha

In his epic poem “The Scythians” Russian poet Alexander Blok, addressing the nations of Europe, ponders the riddle of Russia:
Yes, Russia is a Sphinx. Exulting, grieving,
And sweating blood, she cannot sate
Her eyes that gaze and gaze and gaze
At you with stone-lipped love and hate. (1)
This schizophrenic attitude toward Europe—loving and hating it at once—tells of a deeper conflict in the Russian soul: the ambiguity of Russian identity. That is, does Russia belong to Europe or Asia? This lack of a concrete identity, this “in-between-ness,” is an important part of the Russian psyche that can be traced back centuries through Russian art. To this day Russia struggles with this dilemma.

To the extent that Ukraine shares history with Russia, it also shares in this ambiguous identity. The “geographic center” of Europe may be in Ukraine, but historical ties to Russia link Ukraine with Asia as well. During the Kievan Rus’ period (where Russian and Ukrainian history intersect), Genghiz Khan’s Mongol hordes conquered most of present-day Russia and Ukraine. Kievan Rus’ was the only major European power to be overtaken by the Asiatic hordes(2), an event that would bring the influence of Asian culture and Asian blood to the region and contribute to this confused identity.

While the Russians have the stability and economic might to keep one foot in Asia and the other in Europe and leave the question of their identity unanswered, Ukraine does not. Squeezed between the E.U. and the former U.S.S.R., Ukraine, as a developing nation, will fall under the sphere of influence of one of these giants; as Ukraine develops, it will need a senior partner in the process. Ukraine must decide where to look for this partner: East or West.

Westerners saw Yushchenko’s victory in the Orange Revolution as Ukraine’s choice of the latter over Russia. Nearly two years later, with Viktor Yanukovych serving as Prime Minister—a man with close ties to Moscow and whose 2004 presidential campaign was publicly supported by Putin himself—it seems this was an oversimplification. Ukrainians are very much conflicted about which direction their country should be heading.

The language struggle in Ukraine is symbolic of the struggle for the future of Ukraine. The central government is pushing for more Ukrainian (a rejection of the Soviet Union’s legacy, linguistically closer to Polish) yet a large contingent of the population clings to Russian (a remnant of Russian imperialism).

In deciding what language we speak, PCVs take part in this struggle. Of course in some regions, Crimea and the Lviv area for example, this struggle is not present. But throughout the majority of the communities in Ukraine, language is a contested issue. Although we are apolitical and should not pick sides in this struggle, Peace Corps has a responsibility to send Ukrainian speaking volunteers to these communities where the language question is contested.

I bring this up because of an alarming statistic brought to my attention by my regional manager. When asked in what language future volunteers sent to their sites should be trained, all of the Ukrainian-speaking volunteers in my region, save one, answered “Russian.” To those Ukrainian speakers in mixed communities who wish they spoke Russian, and to the staff in Kyiv considering sending Russian speakers to these sites, I urge you to consider the following.

The Supreme Rada declared Ukrainian the national language, but in many communities it is losing out to Russian. As guests of the Ukrainian government, we should not hinder its agenda. This is exactly what we do when we send Russian-speaking volunteers to mixed communities; we work against the government’s goal of implementing Ukrainian as the national language. We ought not treat our hosts like that.

The language that a PCV speaks, especially in small villages, affects the locals’ perception of that language. Many Ukrainians are embarrassed by their language, considering it an inferior “farmer’s language.” When Americans speak Ukrainian, it helps dispel this myth and helps Ukrainians feel proud of their mother tongue.

Many volunteers want to learn Russian because it is an international language that will be useful to them after Peace Corps. But we must remember we are here for the benefit of Ukraine first; our personal goals should take a back seat to what is best for Ukraine. Still, learning Ukrainian will make learning Russian in the future much easier (the alphabet and grammar are almost identical, cognates are abundant). If you learn Ukrainian well during your service, picking up Russian in the future will be a cinch. Think of it as linguistic cross-training.

Some will argue that in mixed communities most people speak Russian, making life for PCVs who learned Ukrainian unfairly difficult. While this may be true at some sites, remember: the grass is always greener on the other side of the linguistic barrier. Imagine how much you would struggle to understand the Ukrainian speakers if you knew only Russian. Besides, most people don’t speak pure Russian or Ukrainian, they speak surzhik. In communities like these, if you want to be able to understand everyone, you will have to have to know a bit of both languages. Fortunately once you get a few high-frequency words down, understanding conversational Russian is easy.

I am not saying that Ukrainians will be better off if they cast their lot with the Europeans—their cultural and historical ties to Russia run deep, and completely disregarding this relationship would be a mistake. But no matter what direction Ukraine looks to it must remain autonomous, and developing the Ukrainian language is key to developing Ukrainian autonomy. Peace Corps should remember this when making decisions regarding language.

1- Orlando Figes, Natasha’s dance: a cultural history of Russia. Picador, 2002. p. 419
2- Ibid., p. 366