Living in Ukraine: Week 1

Upon request and out of personal need for an outlet, here’s the post about my first week in the Ukraine! It’s weird to think that I’ve been here for only a week. I feel like it’s been so much longer. I’ve learned a lot of things so I guess I’ll let you in on my first impressions of Ukraine:

1. I’ll come out and say it: Ukraine looks ghetto. That’s probably why people complain of not finding very many pictures of Kiev or as they spell it now, Kyiv: nobody wants to post pictures because it looks so ghetto. Most of the buildings (about 50% of them are apartment buildings) are falling apart. A lot of that is probably due to the former Soviet Union. You can still see and hear about the impact that the Soviet Union had/has on the present day Ukraine. Plus, I don’t think “curb appeal” is a word here. I have yet to see a lawn. Or a paved sidewalk for that matter…

2. Ukrainians are crazy drivers. Seriously, I thought I was going to die once I left the airport. Nothing fazed our bus driver: pedestrians, being cut-off, speed limits, crazy turns out of nowhere. Just another day… The streets have painted lines but they’re more of a guideline than a rule. They just kind of tell people, “This is how many lanes there are supposed to be.” Ukrainians like to create and take away lanes as needed which creates some very interesting situations, especially during rush-hour traffic.

3. Ukrainians like to feed you. A lot. Many of the teachers and I have found out that starving isn’t an option because somehow Ukrainians manage to feed you twice as much as you probably should have eaten. Meals usually include multiple dishes at your place of sitting and copious amounts of bread, meat and potatoes. I’m glad I like potatoes because I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so many potatoes in one week before. Same goes for tea. I never drank tea at home and I’m sure making up for it now. My host mom makes me my own pot of fruit tea in the morning for breakfast and at night for tea time (some teas are allowed in the Mormon religion and thanks to my brother who is a former missionary to Eastern Europe, I know which ones are okay to drink. Thanks, bro!).  

4. I think the most important thing I’ve learned about Ukrainians in my first week was this: Ukrainians are people just like me. Before I came to Ukraine I was so concerned with what they would be like. For some reason because they spoke a different language it automatically made them a different person than me. NOT TRUE. Having gotten to know my host family this past week has shown me that these people care about a lot of things and have normal human problems like the rest of us: they get mad when the bus is late. They think Spongebob Squarepants is hilarious. They fall in love. They tell jokes similar to my humor. Their kids throw tantrums in the super market. They want the best for the future and worry about changing things now. Sure there are things I will never understand, like why their toilets have to be shaped differently than American toilets and why smiling is such a bad thing. But these are people like me and I think I can relate better to my students because I know that.

So here’s to my first week in Ukraine. Tune in next week to hear about my first week of teaching. ;)

Pre-Departure: Starts With Goodbye

I hate packing. I really do. Maybe it's the fact that everything that had a place in my room has to find a place in my suitcase. It's like picking favorites... Maybe the reason I don't like packing is because I'm lazy. Hey, it happens. Maybe I hate packing because I just don't know what to pack. I will confess right now, I love being prepared for any situation which usually means that I pack a lot of stuff (Sorry, future husband....). So deciding what is important to bring to the country that you're going to live in for the next four months while having no idea what to expect is hard. I have no clue what I'm getting into which doesn't help my decision making processes any more. All I hear is it's cold so hopefully the billion sweaters I put in my bag will come in handy. That's probably why my bag is so heavy now that I think about it....

It's very weird to think that in a little more than 12 hours I will be on a plane heading to Chicago and then Dusseldorf and then Kiev. I have flown many a time in my life but never out of the country. I'm new to this whole jet-lag concept and I may not like it once I meet it. That's another thing quite a few people have told me: expect that you won't remember the first couple days because you will be so trashed from jet-lag. And then they tell me expect to be an emotion wreck. Watch out Europe: an emotional jet-lagged monster approaches.

The next bed I probably sleep in will be my Ukrainian bed because let's face it, I'm definitely not sleeping tonight. This could end up being a good thing though because I really don't think I want to be awake for the eight hour plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean. Boredom. However, that gives me the opportunity to watch the hours pass by tonight. Even more fun. I have been blessed my whole life to sleep in places where I have felt safe for the most part (the Riv is probably the only exception to that rule). Who knows what they sleep in in Ukraine?? Caves? Coffins? Body bags? I have to keep reminding myself that Ukrainians are people like me, not aliens. They have feelings and do normal human things. I think. ...We'll see about that one.

I'm scared in a way. Instead of looking forward to the first day of the new semester tomorrow, I'm looking forward to traveling thousands of miles by myself to a country who's language I don't even speak. I miss my friends. I miss BYU. I miss my brother, my sister-in-law and the cutest nephew on the face of the earth. I'm scared to leave the safety and familiarity of the United States of America. As I told a friend earlier today, "I'm not scared of the experience but rather the first step off the plane." I'm scared to face the unfamiliar. 

I've been told this is what a mission feels like without that whole "weight of people's souls" of my shoulders. Instead I have a couple dozen children expecting to learn English from me. I don't know which one scares me more: People's souls or teaching dozens of sunbeams? 

One thing is a comfort though: I will not be alone. I will be teaching with a couple other teachers so chances are someone will understand what I'm going through. The branch president of the international branch for the LDS church has even  contacted me to let me know they're excited to see us when we get there. I'm planning to adopt them as my family, just saying. 

The most comfort of all though is the knowledge that I have of a loving Savior who understands Afton Jensen to a"T". I have only just learned of the magnitude of love that he has for me and how acutely aware he is of my needs. I know he is there for me and it is through his strength that I'll be alright. I know that through my faith in him, I have nothing to fear. I know he will be there to give me comfort and strength when my lessons don't go right, or I can't ask the store clerk where the yogurt is or I get lost in a train station and everyone looks at me like I'm crazy. Things are bound to go wrong, it's a fact of life. But through the Atonement nothing will be permanently wrong.  

I am blessed. I am blessed to be going on this amazing experience. I am blessed with parents and family who support me. I am blessed with amazing friends who have my back. I never thought I'd be here but I'm really glad I am. I'm grateful for this amazing opportunity to grow and learn about myself and others. I know I will not be the same person when I get back.

So peace out USA! I'll see you in four months!

Cada Dia

When I woke up Saturday morning, I decided to attend a baptism. I didn't know who the heck the guy was but I was going. At 4:50pm I took my seat near the front of the room and waited for the service to begin. People filed in and shortly after a guy stood up and said, " Just so you know, this service is going to be entirely in Spanish. So find a  return missionary to sit by if you don't understand Spanish." There was no way of bailing now, especially when you sit in the front of the room. I figured I took three years of California Spanish (6 years ago....) soooo I should be able to get something out of this.

About half way through, my brain was straining. Laugh when people laugh, look interested and pretend that you understand exactly what  they're saying, is what I told myself. I was mediocre at Spanish as it was but the guy speaking spoke European Spanish and if you're not used to it, you get thrown for a loop (think New York accent with a lisp). I understood the gist of what was going on because hey, I'd been attending baptisms my whole life. But I was struggling to find what I needed to learn from something I couldn't understand 100% of the time. 

The service was almost over and I was trying so hard to see if miraculously I could have the gift of tongues bestowed upon me. The Elders Quorum President got up to speak. Laugh, look interested. But as he spoke I noticed that he kept using a phrase over and over again: cada dia. For a second my three years of Spanish kicked in. "I know that one! Huzzah!" And then my mind started to think about it a little more. What would I tell a newly baptized member of the church, especially in the sense of "every day"?

And then I started to think about my baptismal covenants. When we take the sacrament every week, we promise to remember our Savior and act as he would act. In return, we are given the Spirit as our companion every day long as we seek him. As members of the church, we are entitled to the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost as long as we keep the covenants we made at baptism. The Spirit is not just a thing to feel on Sunday but a companion to us as we try to become better and seek God's will.

I also started to think about the need to talk to God every day. This past week I came to the realization that my relationship with my Heavenly Father was greatly diminished mostly due to the lack of constant communication with Him. It was heart breaking to realize that the choices I had made drew me away from my Father. My Heavenly Father loves me and I purposefully chose not to spend the daily necessary time building my relationship with Him. What a terrible daughter I am. But going to the baptism made me realize that I can change those things now. I can change that very minute. I have been baptized and because of that, I can change my life and have the companionship of the Holy Ghost once again. I can rebuild and repair my relationship with my Heavenly Father.  

Every day we face challenges, most of the time ones of our own doing. This past week showed me that I can't just go through life thinking only about God on Sundays when I'm taking the sacrament. Our membership in the Gospel goes further than that. It is an everyday commitment. It is commitment that if kept benefits us. Is it hard? Yes but it is entirely worth it. It is worth giving up temporary happiness for happiness that lasts. 

I will never forget the phrase Cada Dia. It is a reminder that to me to become better every day. Happiness is not a one-day workshop. It is a life long pursuit. As my mom once said, "Living the Gospel is like shaving your legs: no matter how good you do it one day, you'll have to do it just as good the next day." By living each day a little better than the last, we can truly be happy. By arranging our lives to fit Heavenly Father's will for us, the things that matter will work out and happiness will be ours. President Ezra Taft Benson said, "When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives." The happy and worthwhile things will always remain. I know this to be true and I know that Heavenly Father sees what is to come in our lives and as long as we seek His will and guidance, we will lead us to avenues of true happiness. He will require things that are not always easy but in the end, they are always worth it.