Never before have I lived anywhere with such a contrast between seasons and months. Three months ago I wondered if my apartment building was full of old people, because that was all I ever saw outside and in the stairwell. No one appeared to be under 50, and no one was ever without a big fur hat for the bitter cold. For the last month, my building, neighborhood, and indeed the whole city and country has come alive. From the pretty much constant screaming of children at play on the well-worn and slightly decrepit playground outside my door (they scream loudly and clearly enough for even me to understand their Russian, at five floors up) to the constant badgering on the soccer field--"Mr. Andrew, good morning! Play football? Play volleyball?"--any time I walk through it to get to the main street, Pavlograd is unrecognizable from what it was at the beginning of March. It's so intriguing that Ukrainians shut themselves inside for half of the year, especially the children, and then spend all day outside whenever the weather's above 60 or so.
I feel more connected to the seasons than I ever had. In Georgia, we have a mild winter and spend the 8-9 months of warm weather in air-conditioned cars and houses, venturing outside only when we want to. Most of America is like that, really. We use heating and A/C to keep our homes at a balmy 72 year-round, see no discernible difference in what different foods are available in different seasons, and so on. Here, Ukrainians embrace the warm weather and spend more time outside picnicking, drinking, hanging out, and enjoying it. I completely understand after the 4-5 months of cold weather. Even living in an apartment in a city, you feel just more in tune with the natural world and the rhythms of the earth.
I only have 4 more days of school left this year--Friday is Last Bell, a ceremony and concert for the 11th graders who will finish school this year. Summer is already here, with all the camps, traveling and more that it brings. Пошли!
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