Life in Ukraine

Alex is so smart. Yesterday I asked him if he wanted one cookie or two cookies tomorrow. He answered two! Then I asked him if he wanted little cookies or big cookies and he thought for a moment and answered, "Bolshoy!" It was just the cutest thing.

Alex is learning so much--- he got another timeout for hitting another little girl and understood that he had to stay sitting in his chair for a few minutes. Then he got up and said sorry. It is really obvious that the kids are not taught to say please and thank you, or I am sorry when they accidentally do something like hit another child with a swinging telephone. However, I am pleased to say that Alex is already learning these things and I have caught him saying them with out my prompting.

Alex is doing things that John had tried to get him to do when he was still here, but Alex was scared to do. He now loves to play in a big tube and Alex rolls around in it when Julia or I push it.
The weather is hot again, but the breeze is nice. We sleep in the room with the air conditioning and it almost feels like I am at home in my own bed. Almost.

Here is a list of things that are noticeably different here.

1. I have to unlock three different doors to get into our apartment. One of the keys looks like it should unlock an ancient treasure chest.

2. There are little kiosks scattered throughout the apartment grounds that sell beverages including beer, fresh fruit, bread, or ice-cream. Julia and I can enjoy two nice sized ice-cream bars for less than a dollar.

3. There are so many stray cats and dogs around here. And many cats look pregnant. Julia and I also give our loose change to a very fragile looking babushka who stands outside the market begging for money. Not sure if we are doing the right thing according to Ukraine customs, but for us it feels right.

4. Ukraine just flat out smells different than America. Some of the smells are good, but most are unpleasant to my nose. The stairwell smells different from the elevator and certain parts of our walk make me wonder what died in the bushes. Probably one of those poor starving dogs I see around here. The market sells lots of fish-- and I hate fish-- period. I do like walking past one of the kiosks selling bread-- and fresh tomatoes have a nice smell too.
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As I close I wanted to share a story with you. After dinner, Julia and I went outside to sit near our apartment entrance where all the old babushkas sit. At one point I got up and asked to pet one of their dogs. She told me NO very sternly and then showed me her hand which had two of her upper fingers missing indicating that the dog had bit them off. What??? Why would she still have that dog? Anyway, a scary looking man was finally done yelling at another babushka one door down and came walking past where we were sitting. That mean dog got up and started barking something fierce at that man and was ready to attack it, so the man started yelling at it and lighting matches and throwing them at the dog. It was quite a show. But finally, the old man was gone and the dog went back to sleep.

Another old crochety babushka joined the other babushkas and saw that Julia an I were playing ball again. She asked me to move because a machina would drive over us but I ignored her because there had been no machinas for the last 15 minutes and I was a big girl who could see the machina and get out of the way. I think that ticked her off because she came up to me invading my personal space and talking to me like a child. She told me to go play somewhere else because a mahina would drive over me. Well this time I nicely told her that there was no machinas and this royally ticked her off. She started yelling at me and finally acted like the ball might hit her face-- so rather than cause a scene, I picked up the soft ball and Julia and I went back up to our apartment.

I miss America. Only 12 more days. Only 12 more days.

P.S. Here is a cute picture of the kids all sitting on a blanket eating the cookies we brought them.