why

A little less than a month ago I was in the store to buy coconut cookies, vegetable oil and lemons for my host family. They had given me money and a good pat on the back with the encouragement, "You can do it!" and sent me on my way. Now, if you know me, you already know where this is going.

I was stressed out of my mind. Not only was I in the grocery store (my least favorite place on the planet) but I was in a Ukrainian grocery store and had no idea what was going on anywhere. I'll save you the sob story of picking which bread to buy and get to the point though.

There was a problem of some sort when I went to checkout and my lemons were confiscated, which was distressing to me because I really needed them. But guess what? Saying "No, I really need those lemons. I want to buy them. Those are my lemons." Over and over and over in English does you little good in this type of situation.

Finally the woman behind me, taking pity on the flailing American girl, explained what was wrong in her broken English. It was an easy to solve problem and I thanked her for her help, smiling at her little kids who were staring at me like I was some sort of foreign alien. oh wait. As I was about to leave, however, the woman stopped me and asked, "Why are you here? Why are you here, alone, so far from home?" All the Ukrainians in my line and the line over kind of stopped to lean in and listen.

What was I supposed to say? I had three seconds to answer her with simple English while I struggled to stuff all my items in my backpack.

I'm here to learn and change. I'm here to struggle and grow. I'm here to be happy. I'm here to realize how fortunate my life has been and how much I love my family. I'm here to feel incredible love for people I never even knew existed. I'm here to eat borscht and syrniki and liver and fish and chocolate. I'm here to learn how to get along with people. I'm here to gain confidence in myself and my decisions. I'm here to wear the same clothes over and over and over and realize that that's ok. I'm here to travel and see how much bigger the world is than just Utah. I'm here to make memories and friends. I'm here to fall in love with 19 children and hold them on my lap and sing Jingle Bells a dozen times a day. I'm here to rely on Christ and witness tender mercy after tender mercy happen everyday. I'm here to realize how much I love this world.

But as this went zooming through my head I realized I only had two seconds left, so I responded, "I'm here to teach English."

I was here to teach English.

Dasvidanya Ukraine.
rrw

rachel: an analysis

Today was rough. I cried. And probably scared all the little children because suddenly Ms. Waychel had black tears coming out of her eyes. Good note to end on right? I thought so.

I head back to America in 2 days and 9 hours. Or something like that, depending on what time zone we're working with. But I've been spending a lot of time lately thinking about how my experience in Ukraine has changed me and what I've learned here. And because this is a personal blog in which to share personal things I'm going to expound on my personal thoughts on the matter. Prepare yourself.

The picture on the left was the last time I was in America. It was 5 in the morning and I had been crying. 

The picture on the right was today in Ukraine. It was 1 in the afternoon and I had been crying.

Let's call them pre and post Ukraine Rachel. (A heads up- there's going to be a lot of 3rd person in this post.) 

And we begin.

*******

Pre-Ukraine Rachel was slightly scared of public transportation. Especially the kind that takes place underground. Post-Ukraine Rachel feels so comfortable on the metro that she often nods off and misses her exit station.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel liked to shave almost every day. Post-Ukraine Rachel wonders why the heck she used to do that.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel rarely ever, EVER ate fish. Post-Ukraine Rachel eats it for breakfast and isn't even phased by having to pull the bones out of her teeth because I mean, who needs a previously de-boned fish? Gollum sure didn't. And look how he turned...nevermind.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel had a huge incision and stitches all up in her lip. Post-Ukraine Rachel's lips have never been better. #winkyface

Pre-Ukraine Rachel didn't speak Russian. Post-Ukraine Rachel doesn't either.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel had about 700 photos of herself on facebook. Post-Ukraine Rachel has 1,364. 

Pre-Ukraine Rachel never really cared for ballet. Post-Ukraine Rachel has decided that her children will study ballet from the time they can walk and she will be the crazy mom who lives vicariously through her children.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel stomped her feet on the mat at the door and called it good. Post-Ukraine Rachel cannot enter a home without taking her shoes off.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel thought she liked chocolate. Post-Ukraine Rachel realizes she had been living in the dark for far too long.

Pre-Ukraine Rachel had never had alcohol before...

peace and alcohol filled chocolates.
i didn't realize until after i had one! i swear! the word of wisdom is true.

rrw

winter wonderland

I've typed and retyped the opening paragraph for this post about 8 different times. Nothing's working for me. So I'm just going to cut to the chase and post the pictures.

I had a happy afternoon with my co teacher Amanda at the last stop on the metro. We're rebellious. 

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas/I'll be home for Christmas/Walking in a winter wonderland/Santa Baby?

peace and sweater boots

rrw

souvenirs

Souvenir shopping is maybe one of the most stressful things I have ever participated in. I mean, you spend 3 months in a place having life changing experiences and meeting some of the best people in the world and then you're supposed to go buy a trinket of some sort, that has to fit in a carry-on and weigh less than a loaf of bread, to remember everything by? It's ridiculous! I can't stand for it! I'm going to start a protest! (sorry. the whole protest thing is kind of in my system right now)

But still. I go and roam the streets in the snow with the wind blowing and the air so cold my fingers start to swell because dang it that key chain made of meat is going to remind me of my love for Ukraine.

No. Like, it actually would.

So now I have a little pile of treats, toys, and fur sitting next to my bed. i swear it's not the easter bunny. I'm seriously considering moving them to the foot of the bed just so that when I wake up every morning I feel like I'm in a Hogwarts Christmas. I'm not going to tell you what I've got because some of them might be surprises for some of you. Aka Cooper. My adorable baby nephew. Who, now that I'm thinking about it, probably isn't reading this. Oh well.

Instead, I'm going to list a few of the things I wish I could bring home as souvenirs, but can't because airplanes aren't big enough and I'd be arrested for kidnapping. Or something lame like that.

1. My kids. They tease and smile and sing and shout and wrap their hands in my hair and show me their little toys and jump for joy when we pull out stickers. They hug my legs and hold my hands and sit on my knees and lay in my lap. I almost started crying while we were singing BINGO because it hit me that I'm leaving them soon. I don't want to. Don't make me.

2. The metro/marshrutkas. Public transportation was probably one of my biggest worries coming to Kiev. Because let's face it, it doesn't exist in Utah. Or...I've just never used it in Utah. Anyway, these modes of transportation are fun. Whether it's listening to someone play the accordion, eliminating all sense of personal space with complete strangers, having someone try to sell you glue, or making awkward eye contact with that man 14 times because you just have no where else to look, it's an adventure. This is where you see the people. It's completely fascinating.

3. My host family's potato shredder. Seriously. It means business and I love it.

4. The windows. They are ingenious and I have no idea how they work, but depending on how you turn the handle, they either open like a door or from the top like the little slot you drop your library books in to return them. I know I did such a great job explaining that so I guess I don't need to bring one back for you to see anymore. Well done Rach.

5. The towel rack. It's this set of metal bars with hot water running through them so your towel is warm when you go to use it. I also use it to dry my socks.

6. 50 cent ice cream cones from McDonald's that take more than half a breath to eat.

7. Actually, just McDonald's in general. I'm not kidding you when I say that they are nicer than a sit down restaurant in America. It is the place for all the classiest people to be. So obviously I'm there regularly. not really. don't judge me.

8. Spray-on deodorant. Oh wait. I am bringing that home.

9. My kids. mykids mykids mykids.

peace and butter.
that's better here too.

rrw

power of the people

A little over a month ago I was extremely fortunate to attend the World Cup qualifying soccer match between Ukraine and France. This was THE game to be at and there I was, a little American girl who had never lived outside of Utah, sitting with my host dad and his buddies along with the thousands of Ukrainians that filled the stadium. I stood and listened with awe as a 70,000 voice choir of Ukrainians gave the the loudest, proudest rendition of a national anthem I have ever heard. It was maybe the most intimidating and impressive encounter I've yet to witness.

And then, during the second half, we scored.
Twice.

I was enveloped in a Ukrainian bear hug of grown men and lifted up off my feet. Beverages, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic (but mostly alcoholic) were flung through the air. Sunflower seeds rained from the sky and canons went off while the colors yellow and blue filled every angle of vision. It was in this moment, when I was literally embraced by Ukraine, that I realized just how much I love this country.

This last week has been an upsetting one in the world of Ukrainian politics. The president, Viktor Yanukovych, did as selfish, corrupt people do and refused to sign trade agreements with the European Union, despite the fact that the vast majority of Ukrainian citizens are desperate to build such bridges with the EU. Yanukovych has said that Ukraine cannot afford to lose ties with Russia at this time. Translated, that means that Vladimir Putin, the president of Russia, wants Ukraine back under his jurisdiction and will pay Yanukovych a heck of a lot of gryvna to keep it that way.

Ukraine has been an independent country for the same amount of time I have been alive. The older generation here remembers living under the Soviet Union and participating in the vote for independence in 1991. I can see how hard they have worked and continue to work by their worn faces and callused hands. They've lived with struggles and unfairness that I've only ever seen in movies. That I've paid to view as a form of entertainment.

And their struggles continue.

Right now, as I type, over 300,000 people are occupying the center of Kiev in protest to the actions of the government. These protests have been going all week. Yesterday, early in the morning, the police were sent to beat up and break up the protesters. Obviously they had little success.

All I want to do is go and be with these people who are standing up for themselves and their country. I want to wave my Ukrainian flag and add my voice to the chant "This is not for us. This is for our children!" that is the mantra of the mob. I want to be a part of this event that is so much bigger than myself.

But I can't. There are too many people, governments and organizations telling me that to do so would be stupid. The only one I'm really listening to is my mom back in America though.

I hope the people here realize what they can do. I hope they understand the impact their actions, choices, and voices can make. They've certainly impacted me. They've helped me in the grocery store, translated for me in the marshrutkas, pointed me in the direction of the metro, and carried my luggage up stairs. They are good, caring people who are proud of their independence.

That night I heard them singing their national anthem with hands to their chests was the night I realized just how real the power of the people can be. And these people? They have power. They are Ukrainian.

украинский слава!
rrw

happy thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving, and even though I'm not eating turkey or counting how many rolls my brother has had or sitting in a cabin with the rest of my family talking about the boys in my life, my dad's ongoing battle with the Christmas lights, and whether or not the nearby trail would be good for my mom's pony and cart, I am grateful. Yes, I wish I could be there to see my nephew's new jeans or tease Caroline about the next high school dance. But the great thing about being grateful is that I can feel this way no matter where I am. And I don't know what it is about this place, but I don't think I've ever been more grateful in my life.

............

I'm grateful for my family. I'm grateful for technology that allows me to talk with them from across the world. I'm grateful for our memories and jokes. I'm grateful for their support and encouragement for me coming to Ukraine. I'm grateful for my friends. I'm grateful for the little red square on facebook that tells me when I have a new message from one of them. I'm grateful that I miss my people back in America. I'm grateful that I love my Ukrainian people. I'm grateful that I get to be in Ukraine. I'm grateful for when a student says something in English perfectly and their parents hear it and are so happy. I'm grateful when that something is "I love Ms. Waychel."

I'm grateful for the places I've seen and the people I've met from around the world. I'm grateful for my camera and the memories I've been able to document with it. I'm grateful for adventures. I'm grateful for safety. I'm grateful that water is free in America. I'm grateful for complimentary peanuts on flights. I'm grateful for public transportation. I'm grateful that I don't have to use public transportation in America.

I'm grateful for shaving gel and my hairbrush. I'm grateful for my sandals and my warm boots. I'm grateful that I can read. I'm grateful for chocolate and pears, but not together. I'm grateful for emails. I'm grateful for pie and real whipped cream. I'm grateful for the fake whipped cream too.

I'm grateful that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I'm grateful that even though I'm in Ukraine, I can still go to church. I'm grateful for the temple. I'm grateful for missionary work and for missionaries. I'm grateful for my ancestors and everything they went through so I can be here. I'm grateful that I am here. I'm grateful for my body and for my health.

I'm grateful for my Savior. I'm grateful for the many times I have felt His love surrounding me. I'm grateful for prayer. I'm grateful for the protection prayer has given me. I'm grateful that I can change. I'm grateful for a Plan that allows me to be with my family forever. Because I'm so grateful for my family.

.........

The thing is, once you start, you can't stop. 

So basically, gratitude is like eating a can of Pringles.
which i'm also grateful for.

peace and mashed potatoes

rrw

три

3 weeks guys. In exactly three weeks I will be sitting on a plane back to America. 3 weeks. Do you realize how small of a time that is? I don't know if my brain just does time differently now, but throughout this entire experience everything has seemed so...imminent.

And now I only have three weeks left. And that makes me want to cry because I can't wait to see my family and hold my nephew and celebrate Christmas and share my chocolate and eat Mexican food and hug my friends. But I also can't imagine leaving the people I love so much. I can't imagine leaving these kids that squirmed their way into my heart while dumping glitter and throwing cotton balls everywhere. Who, for the life of them, can't focus on one thing for more than 20 seconds. Who are proud to show me their little toys, the buttons on their clothes, and the pictures of me they've drawn. Who probably won't remember me at all by the end of December.

I love this city.


MAN I've got to stop listening to Sigur Ros at night. Way too many thoughts going on over here on the other side of the world.

Three weeks. They're gonna be great.

peace and hoppipolla
rrw

just ukraine stuff

Things I have eaten like an apple, but were not apples, while in Ukraine:

-garlic
-tomatoes
-onions

Things I have eaten pickled, that I didn't even know could be pickled, while in Ukraine:

-tomatoes
-mushrooms
-fish


I tell you what guys, my breath is going to smell bad for the rest of my life. It'll be a little reminder of my time spent in Eastern Europe. (ah, how sweet). Unfortunately my dad will probably never hug me again because I can just see him cringing at the thought of someone willingly biting into a clove of garlic. I mean, the man has a hard time with Olive Garden. But we love him for it.

In other news, I taught an older class today with students who can actually speak English pretty well. It was an interesting change from my usual classes, where the only English phrases voluntarily spoken are "Please toilet" "Please water" and "English only." (minus the one little boy who breaks out in "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star every 2 minutes) A few of the comments/questions made by the older kids were as follows:

Student: "How old are you?"
Me: "How old do you think I am?"
Student: "35!"

Me: "My last name is German."
Student: "Oh, that makes sense because you have a German nose!"

Student: "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Me: "No."
Student: "That's too bad."

Student: "Do you like dogs?"
Me: "Yes. I do."
Student: "I have money. I'll buy you a dog."

Student: "I like songs by The Beatles."
(proceeds to sing "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" to me)

Student: "Someday I want to work in America. Can I have your number for when I'm there?"

Student: "Where do you want to travel to?"
Me: "I want to go to Norway, Finland, and Sweden."
Student: "Don't do it! It's so cold you'll die. Like my cat did this summer."
#ripkittycat

peace and German facial features

rrw

rule of the weilers

I'm about to give you a brief history lesson instead of preparing my thoughts for Relief Society this Sunday. So you should feel really special right now. Here goes.

The city of Kiev was founded by 4 siblings over 1,400 years ago. Yeah, just take that in for a second. The city that I've been living in existed centuries before Columbus even knew what a map was. These siblings, three brothers and a sister, crossed the Dnipro River and established a settlement, naming it Kiev after the eldest brother and king. In 1982, Ukraine erected a statue and monument to honor these siblings. It became my personal mission to see this monument while here because for some reason it just did.

So I found it.
cool story. i know.

I've thought a lot about these people, these siblings. The fact that the city that is now my home was founded by a family just makes it all so much better to me. Can you imagine the stress and arguments and jokes and fun they probably had while trying to cross the Dnipro River? I mean, Kyi was probably stressed about finding a place to make his kingdom while keeping an eye on his littler sister, Lybid, who was obviously a little bit of a diva-free-spirit see statue pictured above. Shchek was probably always being a goof or flirting with all girls while Khoryv teased his sister and tried to be like his older brothers. But they did it. And that's cool.

Well, I started thinking about what it would be like if the four original siblings of my family went off to establish a city and eventual country of our own. I don't think Spencer would want much to do with the actual establishing, but he would have a significant input on the actual location of our establishment, in that he just wouldn't come with us unless there were giant mountains and cliffs for him to climb nearby. Once there, he'd be in charge of scouting out nearby lands, designating areas to be preserved for national parks, and finding the best ski slopes. All of which are vitally important to making a city. He'd come back once in a while to tell us a story, make us laugh, and take all our food back with him into the wild. We'd always be glad to see him.

No, even though he's the oldest and the only boy, he wouldn't be the one to rule. That responsibility would go to Rebecca. Not because she's bossy or would take it for her own, but because she would know what to do and have a logical plan to carry it all out. We'd naturally just turn to her. She would make decisions logically and be efficient while organizing a healthcare and education system that really worked. She'd also choose the best kinds of holidays and traditions and the palace where she lived would always have the most pinterest-worthy banners and wreaths. Ambassadors would enjoy their visits immensely and always be invited to stay and play a board game or 7. Those ambassadors would always lose.

Caroline would be the communicator with the people because they would naturally just love her. Her honesty, wit, and easy going personality would help her relate to the people in a way that would compel them to give us their money. She'd also be the reality check to the group, teasing us when we got too full of ourselves and quoting Brian Regan during government meetings. She'd probably push for the national anthem to be a song from Brother Bear or Spirit and have the final say in the design of our flag. Which would be tie-die.

And my one contribution to the Weiler-sibling-city would be the creation of a national holiday dedicated to the celebration of cheese quesadillas.

Would you pay us your taxes?

peace and soccer
i'm totally going to the ukraine vs. france game tomorrow. yeah. tickets are basically impossible to get. but my host dad rocks.

rrw

ukrainian secrets

Yesterday my host mom and sister sat me down (ok, I was already sitting) and told me something that had obviously been bothering them for some time now. I listened, worried that I had somehow personally offended them with the amount of time I spend brushing my hair, my hopefully polite rejection of the endless supply of liver, or the number of chocolate bars I keep stashed in my room. I was scared of what was going to happen. Was this end of our harmonious relationship?

Their concern was this: I wear pants too often, and by doing so I will not attract the young men who could be potential suitors. They said I was beautiful and needed to show that more often by wearing skirts.

I sat there, shocked.

And then I realized, "They're right! I hate pants anyway!"

So now I'm here, sitting in my skirt, waiting for the next 3 hours to rush by so I can board an overnight train to northern Ukraine (poetry jam anyone?) to see some castles. I'm excited. Not only for the trip, but for the other "womanly secrets" my host mom said she had to share with me when the time was right. Should I be nervous? Because I'm not.

I am so content with my life right now it's unbelievable. Earlier this week I was walking home from a good day of teaching, listening to Selena telling me that I can be whatever I want, and was suddenly filled to the brim with happiness. You know, the kind of happiness that's like, "If someone touched me right now, they would hug a stranger."

I full on beamed at passing Ukrainians, some of whom hesitantly smiled back. I teared up when I saw a grandpa walking his granddaughter home from school, her bright pink backpack slung across his shoulders. A mom was showing her chubby little baby, all bundled up in snow clothes, the different colored leaves and some 13 year old boys were flirting with some 13 year old girls in the park.

I loved them all.
I'm so glad I'm here. Wearing a skirt and attracting the right kind of boy.

peace and buckwheat

rrw

kiev: a comparison

Here I am, sitting on my bed drinking my herbal tea while it rains outside. I feel so poetic right now it's unbelievable. Or maybe just hipster? I mean, if I still had my phone right now you better believe I'd be filtering up this scene with "earlybird" like mad. Actually, that would be completely appropriate because Kiev is quite a hipstery place. No, I don't mean the people (even if some of the fashion here is SO not mainstream). I mean the actual city.

yes this photo is all over all my social media outlets right now

it happens

If Kiev was an article of clothing you better believe it would be a plaid/feather shirt with the top button done up. You see, everything here is underground. The public transportation, the babushkas selling flowers, the shops, the 3 story malls, the escalators...it's so exclusive the sun has never seen it. Literally.

I love it.

I'm spending this Friday night in because I'm afraid my desire to try all things Ukrainian has caught up to me and I have a slight stomachache. I mean, maybe I wasn't ready for that raw pig fat. Or biting straight into a clove of garlic. Sheesh, if only my body was as ready as my mind. (if that makes sense to you, then explain it to me.)

It's ok though! I've been needing an excuse to just sit and actually read Anna Karenina. Let's hope my Russian lessons will help me understand the names of the characters...I mean, how many variations of "Petersonovich" can one family have!?

I hope your life is as good as mine.
peace and kiev

rrw

ps. happy anniversary to my parents! love them so much.