I leave you with photos from sunrise this morning (I woke up early today) and a bonus photo from an old Soviet English textbook at my school.
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| View from my westward living room window |
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| View from the eastward bedroom window |
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| Morning skies |
Monday, April 2, 2012
April 2
I haven't written on here in a while, so I feel obliged to update. Why has it been so long? I haven't really had a whole lot going on, to be frank. I've stayed busy the last few months with GRE studying, writing material for Camp Republic II (to be held this summer in Ukraine), and a few other smaller projects on the side. Last week was spring break, and I didn't do anything quite as cool as last year. I worked at a mini-camp for Camp Republic in Poltava the first weekend, was in Kiev for one night, where I did 3 things of note--saw Chelsea, helped her pick up a boatload of books for her school's grant, and bought a French press for coffee. Then I spent the rest of the week back in my oblast, mostly staying at home, sleeping late, and watching TV, with one trip to a village to celebrate my friends Caroline and Avital's birthdays. School started again today. I think there's 8 more weeks of school to go until summer. The sun's started rising really early again, around 6 or so. Once the weather warms up for good, I'll have to move my bed back into my living room--my bedroom has a window without any curtains facing due east. Not a problem in winter, when the sun isn't warm and doesn't rise until 8, but quite the issue when the sun is up around 5 and is warm all day. I have a pullout couch in the living room, which has west-facing windows. The pullout couch is only slightly less comfortable than the futon in the bedroom. I really have nothing interesting to say, honestly.
I leave you with photos from sunrise this morning (I woke up early today) and a bonus photo from an old Soviet English textbook at my school.
I leave you with photos from sunrise this morning (I woke up early today) and a bonus photo from an old Soviet English textbook at my school.
Friday, February 24, 2012
"I'm going to enjoy watching you die, Mr Anderson"
The above title was written by a mystery student in one of my classrooms this week. I believe it's a quote from The Matrix. The fact that it was written doesn't surprise me. The fact that the grammar and spelling are all correct does surprise me considerably. I thought I would have exhausted the humor of my students' occasional overenthusiastic ineptitude, but I was wrong. Really wrong. The following are just from this week alone.
"In the morning I like hearing the sound of beards in the tree."
"Sheeps cross the sea."
"We acros the ocean by shit."
I don't want to bore you with too many, but there are plenty more. I gave a warm-up this week of distinguishing between homophones--words that sound alike. For Ukrainians, the short i sound is very hard to make, as in birthday, ship, liver, and so on. There's no equivalent sound in Russian or Ukrainian (or many other languages, actually, it's a very English sound). So a lot of Ukrainians pronounce it "ee," hear that sound reinforced by everyone else they're around, and assume they're speaking correctly. As a result, many Ukrainians will tell you proudly that they leave in Ukraine, that you can take a river cruise in Kiev on a sheep, the sounds of beards in the trees is a beautiful sign of spring, and that their beersday (th is also hard) is coming up soon, will you come to the party?
I would be lying if I said I didn't assign this task partly to have a good chuckle at my students' expense, but the accent is something that needs work. It's usually fine because of context (no one reasonable would ever assume you're going to ride a sheep across a body of water), but they should at least be aware that it's pronounced "it," not "eat."
Anyway, I survived winter 2012--the two weeks that it lasted. The temperature plummeted at the start of this month, to subzero (in Farenheit) highs for over a week. It so happened that I submitted an online comment to BBC News about the cold snap in Eastern Europe and was contacted by BBC reporters about twenty times in the following week. My friend Caroline called them "BBC, aka needy girlfriend." But the cold abated, and now it's getting above freezing every day. I even dare to go out without a hat. The season now is not really winter or spring, but распутица (rasputitsa). It's basically the time preceding and following snowfall where everything is muddy and slushy. But spring is coming once again. Or so I hope.
On March 3, I'm putting on a sort of mini-camp for my students at school. I have about nine people--seven volunteers, a Ukrainian teacher, and a British teacher--coming in to help with it, and about 40 students signed up for it. I daresay I'm even excited about it. But what I'm really excited about is my work for Camp Republic II this summer. I'm writing the game that will dominate the camp schedule, and it centers around the political struggle in the Roman Republic following Caesar's assassination. If you know anything about me, you should probably know that Roman history is one of my few true passions in life, and that late Republican history is my favorite part of the whole. If only Caesar (the dog) could be here in July for the camp. He would make a swell mascot.
"In the morning I like hearing the sound of beards in the tree."
"Sheeps cross the sea."
"We acros the ocean by shit."
I don't want to bore you with too many, but there are plenty more. I gave a warm-up this week of distinguishing between homophones--words that sound alike. For Ukrainians, the short i sound is very hard to make, as in birthday, ship, liver, and so on. There's no equivalent sound in Russian or Ukrainian (or many other languages, actually, it's a very English sound). So a lot of Ukrainians pronounce it "ee," hear that sound reinforced by everyone else they're around, and assume they're speaking correctly. As a result, many Ukrainians will tell you proudly that they leave in Ukraine, that you can take a river cruise in Kiev on a sheep, the sounds of beards in the trees is a beautiful sign of spring, and that their beersday (th is also hard) is coming up soon, will you come to the party?
I would be lying if I said I didn't assign this task partly to have a good chuckle at my students' expense, but the accent is something that needs work. It's usually fine because of context (no one reasonable would ever assume you're going to ride a sheep across a body of water), but they should at least be aware that it's pronounced "it," not "eat."
Anyway, I survived winter 2012--the two weeks that it lasted. The temperature plummeted at the start of this month, to subzero (in Farenheit) highs for over a week. It so happened that I submitted an online comment to BBC News about the cold snap in Eastern Europe and was contacted by BBC reporters about twenty times in the following week. My friend Caroline called them "BBC, aka needy girlfriend." But the cold abated, and now it's getting above freezing every day. I even dare to go out without a hat. The season now is not really winter or spring, but распутица (rasputitsa). It's basically the time preceding and following snowfall where everything is muddy and slushy. But spring is coming once again. Or so I hope.
On March 3, I'm putting on a sort of mini-camp for my students at school. I have about nine people--seven volunteers, a Ukrainian teacher, and a British teacher--coming in to help with it, and about 40 students signed up for it. I daresay I'm even excited about it. But what I'm really excited about is my work for Camp Republic II this summer. I'm writing the game that will dominate the camp schedule, and it centers around the political struggle in the Roman Republic following Caesar's assassination. If you know anything about me, you should probably know that Roman history is one of my few true passions in life, and that late Republican history is my favorite part of the whole. If only Caesar (the dog) could be here in July for the camp. He would make a swell mascot.
Friday, January 20, 2012
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.
"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.
Monday, December 5, 2011
L'hiver est un mensonge. El invierno es una mentira. Зима--это ложь.
Or, the winter is a lie.
I was expecting a cold winter with lots of snowfall starting in October or November. Early flurries and a rapid cooling in mid-autumn seemed to confirm this. However, the first full week of December has come and brought with it highs well above freezing for the next seven days, even though December 1 itself saw heavy, albeit brief, snowfall. I can't say I'm complaining.
Things have been going well, although it's been a bit dull and routine-like. Wake up early on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. Guzzle instant coffee. Teach until 2:30. Sleep in a bit on Thursday and Friday (9 AM). Teach until 2:30. Russian lessons on Wednesday. Occasional basketball after school. A sporadically-attended English club on Thursday afternoon. I've punctuated the monotony of my schedule and the gray, joyless weather of the last month in several ways. I worked at a collaborative camp for the volunteers in my province last weekend at a college in Krivoy Rog. It was a hit, and my lesson on Coca-Colonization seemed to be well-liked. We're going to bring the same idea to my school in February, so I've made it a goal to sort out the whats and whens of it with my colleagues by the end of this week. I've been compulsively listening to "The History of Rome" podcast, along with periodically reading and working on stuff for Camp Republic II, next summer.
But all that was a bit of a bore, so I decided to eat contaminated food and enjoy a few rounds of food poisoning to keep myself and my vomiting and evacuation skills in tip-top shape. I hope you enjoyed reading that last sentence (and the following ones) as much as I enjoyed writing it. Something was rotten in the state of our school cafeteria last Wednesday, as both the American teacher and around twenty students in the school suffered similar ailments and were absent from school last Thursday and Friday.
I shan't dwell on the particulars of Ukraine's third assault on my digestive tract, but I am actually thankful it. There's nothing like a little sickness to make you thankful for good health and, barring that, a doctor on call and a support network. Besides, I getting way too cocky, what with my pleasant looking forward to my return to America by Christmas and my presumptuous supposed understanding of Ukraine. The borderland must have felt obliged to take the arrogant American down a notch or two.
If good winds hold, I should be back in Atlanta on December 22, take a short side trip to Colorado on December 31, and return to Europe on January 6. If you're an American at home reading this, I hope to see you during that short time. If you're someone else, then Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. And so on.
I was expecting a cold winter with lots of snowfall starting in October or November. Early flurries and a rapid cooling in mid-autumn seemed to confirm this. However, the first full week of December has come and brought with it highs well above freezing for the next seven days, even though December 1 itself saw heavy, albeit brief, snowfall. I can't say I'm complaining.
Things have been going well, although it's been a bit dull and routine-like. Wake up early on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. Guzzle instant coffee. Teach until 2:30. Sleep in a bit on Thursday and Friday (9 AM). Teach until 2:30. Russian lessons on Wednesday. Occasional basketball after school. A sporadically-attended English club on Thursday afternoon. I've punctuated the monotony of my schedule and the gray, joyless weather of the last month in several ways. I worked at a collaborative camp for the volunteers in my province last weekend at a college in Krivoy Rog. It was a hit, and my lesson on Coca-Colonization seemed to be well-liked. We're going to bring the same idea to my school in February, so I've made it a goal to sort out the whats and whens of it with my colleagues by the end of this week. I've been compulsively listening to "The History of Rome" podcast, along with periodically reading and working on stuff for Camp Republic II, next summer.
But all that was a bit of a bore, so I decided to eat contaminated food and enjoy a few rounds of food poisoning to keep myself and my vomiting and evacuation skills in tip-top shape. I hope you enjoyed reading that last sentence (and the following ones) as much as I enjoyed writing it. Something was rotten in the state of our school cafeteria last Wednesday, as both the American teacher and around twenty students in the school suffered similar ailments and were absent from school last Thursday and Friday.
I shan't dwell on the particulars of Ukraine's third assault on my digestive tract, but I am actually thankful it. There's nothing like a little sickness to make you thankful for good health and, barring that, a doctor on call and a support network. Besides, I getting way too cocky, what with my pleasant looking forward to my return to America by Christmas and my presumptuous supposed understanding of Ukraine. The borderland must have felt obliged to take the arrogant American down a notch or two.
If good winds hold, I should be back in Atlanta on December 22, take a short side trip to Colorado on December 31, and return to Europe on January 6. If you're an American at home reading this, I hope to see you during that short time. If you're someone else, then Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. And so on.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Field trip!
Yesterday I went on a field trip with my school's sixth grade. We got on a bus at 5:50AM and drove three hours east to Svyatogorsk, a Russian Orthodox monastery and church complex (lavra) in the neighboring region. The area around the area was the most beautiful area I've seen in Ukraine--no ugly buildings, decrepit roads, or factories there
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| The view of the main church area |
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| Walking toward the cathedrals |
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| I found Taco Bird. He's converted to Russian Orthodoxy and took monastic vows. |
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| Awesome wooden church on one of the hilltops |
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| My counterpart and Zhenya from my 6G class, who asked right before this if it was true this was a "balcony of death" (балкон смерти, balkon smerti) |
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| View of Artem, who has a statue on the neighboring mountain. Never found out who he was beyond "Soviet revolutionary." |
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| View from Zhenya's balcony of death |
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| A war monument? What a shock |
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| More monuments to heroes of the Soviet Union? How original! |
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| Artem was a big guy and had interesting tastes in fashion, apparently |
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| View of the town of Svyatogorsk |
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| Top of Artem's peak, looking down at the lavra |
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| Artem's memorial |
Monday, September 5, 2011
Первый Сентября и Первый звонок
First of September and First Bell
First Bell and Day of Knowledge is what the first day of school (Sept. 1) is known as in Ukraine and, I'm assuming, most of the former USSR. After three months of summer (less for some classes with summer exams), the students and teachers come back to school with, from what I've sensed thus far, similar attitudes--summer's over, we have to work again, and cold weather is just around the corner.
Anyway, the first day of school is not really what you'd call the first day of class. My school had a big ceremony outside on our soccer field. There are several traditions associated with First Bell. One is flowers--each student brings flowers to their teachers. I have dozens of students and got more flowers than I knew what to do with, as well as some that Ukrainian teachers tried [successfully] to pawn off on me. I don't have a vase in my apartment, so the flowers that made it home were placed in a beautiful stadium cup from Turner Field. At any rate, here's a few thousand words to better illustrate the day than my clumsy English (and even clumsier Russian):
So that was my first First Bell ceremony. After the ceremony, which lasted just under two hours, the students have one lesson with their homeroom teachers about Ukraine, which I think is intended to invoke patriotism in them (they talked about national symbols and such). Then they went home. The first few weeks of school are not exactly what you'd call "well-planned." There is still nothing resembling a finalized schedule for any teacher, and they basically go day-to-day for the first few weeks while they figure out when every class should be. Not sure who exactly "they" are, but I've started teaching at last. New and improved! I'll update sometime this month with some stuff from my classes (hopefully).
-Andrew
First Bell and Day of Knowledge is what the first day of school (Sept. 1) is known as in Ukraine and, I'm assuming, most of the former USSR. After three months of summer (less for some classes with summer exams), the students and teachers come back to school with, from what I've sensed thus far, similar attitudes--summer's over, we have to work again, and cold weather is just around the corner.
Anyway, the first day of school is not really what you'd call the first day of class. My school had a big ceremony outside on our soccer field. There are several traditions associated with First Bell. One is flowers--each student brings flowers to their teachers. I have dozens of students and got more flowers than I knew what to do with, as well as some that Ukrainian teachers tried [successfully] to pawn off on me. I don't have a vase in my apartment, so the flowers that made it home were placed in a beautiful stadium cup from Turner Field. At any rate, here's a few thousand words to better illustrate the day than my clumsy English (and even clumsier Russian):
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| Showing the general madness prevailing around the school at 8AM |
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| Everyone and their babushka was there |
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| Ring around the field |
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| The ceremony is special for the 11th graders, for whom it's their last year, and the 1st graders, for whom it's the first year of school |
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| Some of my 11A students are entering the field |
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| And now the first graders...part of the school uniform for little girls is apparently absurdly oversized hair bows |
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| There was all kinds of entertainment there... |
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| Like this group (one of the PE teachers and some random students), who dressed as Cossacks (I think) and did some martial arts moves and dances and poses |
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| I wish I was more attentive, because this dancing team (in blue) came out with the girl in the suitcase. |
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| They were pretty talented, not that you could see that from the mediocre photo work |
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| Something with balloons. I don't really know why, everything was still in Ukrainian at this point and I tend to just zone out when someone's not speaking Russian or English |
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| One of the girl's balloons wouldn't float up because it was tied to some non-helium ones, so she chased it around the field for a good thirty seconds |
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| ...seen here |
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| and away they go |
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| One of the traditions is for an 11th-grade boy to carry around a 1st-grade girl around on his shoulders as she rings a bell to represent the start of school. Not sure how you get picked for this role, but that's Dima from my class |
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| Dima and the little girl, along with Sasha and Zhenya carrying a torch of some kind, paraded around the field |
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| Bringin' it back home |
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| The little kid with the mic in front is Anton, one of my 6th grade students. He sang at Last Bell in May as well, and he has a great voice. |
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| And now the students and their teachers exit. Papa Tolik, the head PE coach, is the teacher in front of Anton in the black suit |
-Andrew
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Summer highlights
I thought I'd include a few photos from all the places I went to this summer on this post. Not too many, but just so y'all can see what I've done. You can see pics from my day camp in Pavlograd below, so I'll avoid repetition by starting with...
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In mid-June, a bunch of volunteers went to Kiev for various meetings and to go to the swearing-in ceremony for Group 41. This is me (ruining the picture I guess) with Avital, Catherine, and Colette |
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Before my parents came to Ukraine, I was in Kiev with Anand and his family, seen here. We never knew why there was confetti all over Kreschatik Street. Some random holiday, probably. |
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I don't have any pictures yet of my parents in Kiev (ahem, Dad), but this is the view from our house in Croatia. |
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I can't imagine any place further from cold Ukrainian winter than balmy, beautiful Dalmatia |
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I split from my family in Croatia and headed to Prague... |
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..where I met my friend Meredith. It was really humid that night, as I recall (and you can probably tell) |
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| Hanging out the second night in Prague with Alex, a pretty cool Canadian dude I met in my hostel |
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| Czech guards |
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| From Prague, I took a train to Munich. This is at the Hofbrauhaus beer hall. My camera never actually made it out of my duffel bag in Germany, so these photos were lifted from Facebook. |
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| Met up with my friend Michael there. Note the background here... |
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| You can see 4 Japanese men, with socks, shorts, and dress shoes, one of whom ordered a glass of wine at a Bavarian beer hall |
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| We found this amusing |
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| Later we went to the English gardens and enjoyed some Bavarian brews in the river (nature's fridge) |
School starts tomorrow here. It was a little strange at first since high school in Georgia started in early August (my senior year began August 1, 2005) and college was already back in by the middle of the month, but I've already gotten used to it. When I say "School starts tomorrow," what I actually mean is "There will be a ceremony tomorrow taking up most of the day and the vice-principal may finally decide the class schedule, then they will have one lesson about Ukraine or something after the ceremony. The schedule likely won't be done until Friday, however, so you won't start teaching until Monday." That works for me, I guess. It will be good to get back into working and teaching, and I'm especially happy to get the students for a whole year this time. This could be my only complete school year in Ukraine, so I plan on making the most of it.
I'm leaving you (for now) with a video made by the students of my 10A (soon to be 11A) class in our summer camp in June. It's a short tour of Pavlograd and our school, narrated by them and with subtitles. Hope it's illuminating.
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