Arrivals

Ladies and gentlemen, sometimes words fail me. In this case, I'll let my seventh and sixth graders take over. Enjoy.

"I wont to next year many games, many spiking, and many interesting lessons. I like lessons Mr. Sell."
"I wont learn English linguage becaus this fan, and games help me to learn Endlis linguage."
"I don't like writing task, it's bringly. I like when we singing and play boll."
"I want listing the mysic. I dont like writing text. redin the text helps me learn English-"
"Me please in subject with Mr Shell. Mr Shell--is 'food.' We not big write."
"Mr Shell is the best teacher. I like play in hangman, draw turkey, sing songs, dance."
"I realle like play hangman it is fang...Mr. Shell is king-hearted teacher."
"In New Years weak. Det Moros veery good." [Ded Moroz is what Russians, Ukrainians, and other Slavs have instead of Santa Claus]
"Ded Moroz is New Year fantastik herou. He look like curly hair, fat he, tall and wear red fercoult. He put presents at New Year tree."
"Ded Moros is Ukrainian Santa Clau$$."
"I love wikish calles 'Saumon Says.'"
"I wont is Mr Shell is game."
"Hangman is a very popular and enjoys the game end so I want the game was often at lessons"
"I like games that you spend, and dialogues, at leas not out but I like it."

I'm finally back in Pavlograd this week after about 4 solid weeks of being mostly on the road. It started on the 20th of December or so, when I left Pavlograd for Kiev and Vasilkov, where I visited my host family for a night. Then, onto the airport. My flight from Kiev to Frankfurt was inexplicably delayed for an hour leaving Borispol Airport, and I arrived at the Frankfurt airport at 4:30 PM. My connecting flight to Washington-Dulles was on time, scheduled to depart at 4:42. To complicate it further, I arrived at Terminal A, and left from Terminal Z. Uh-oh. I basically sprinted through the airport, hopped on the commuter train, and made it to the security checkpoint at Terminal Z with about 2 minutes to spare. The guards saw our haste (there were a few others trying to make the same flight), and allowed us to cut the line and made only a cursory search. I made it to the gate and was stopped by a German lady in a United Airlines uniform who interrogated me for about 2 minutes about why I was in Ukraine, or if I was smuggling tobacco, or if I had any weapons. I made it through the suspicious officials and finally reached the US-bound flight. About 14 hours later, I was finally back in Georgia, with my parents at the West Paces Steak and Shake, eating a guacamole burger around 1 AM.

My 2 weeks back in the States were great. I saw just about everyone I wanted to see--family, friends--did a lot of things I wanted, and left without much sadness. The only sad moment was my last night, when I tried to get Caesar to come upstairs with me to sleep in my bedroom. He's just too old and his joints are just too creaky for him to be able to climb the stairs. I won't lie, I cried when I realized that he understood what I wanted from him but also knew that he just couldn't do it. He's been my dog since I was eleven and he was a tiny, flea-ridden little puppy. Even though he's getting older and older, I am happy to know that he's content in life, sleeping in his brand new LL Bean bed and enjoying his doggie golden years. I just hope he'll be around to welcome me back home at the end of this year. It's one thing to leave family, who are, after all, human beings and capable not just of understanding why you are leaving and that you will return, but also can talk with you while you are gone. It's another thing to leave your beloved dog that has no idea about any of that.

When I made it back to Ukraine, I celebrated by sleeping at the Kiev airport for six hours until the Peace Corps office opened in the morning and I could sleep there. I spent some time in western Ukraine with Chelsea, then I came back to Kiev for my mid-service medical exams. All healthy. I finally made it back to Pavlograd for good on Sunday. Yesterday, I celebrated my good health by jumping in the frigid Volchya River in Pavlograd as a part of the Russian Orthodox tradition for marking Christ's baptism. Second year in a row. Pictures will come soon, I hope. It's strange that I've been here long enough now to have my own traditions.