Today is my final Sunday at site and next Saturday I'll be heading to Kyiv for the last time. I'll start packing and saying my goodbyes this week at school, hopefully escaping without too many tears. I was hoping that this weekend would be filled with quality time with my host family, but there is illness and a lot of work-related issues to be taken care of. The weather has been gray and cold as well, limiting random strolling and conversation. So, I'm pacing my room trying to prepare everything that I can think of to make my next transition as stress-free as possible. I jotted down a list of things I'll miss that I wish to share.

Things I'll Miss

- Tomatoes. Pickled tomatoes aren't that bad, but that first crop in June makes all the waiting worth while. Ukraine has killer tomatoes for three months. - Words being a gift. As I've stressed countless times, Ukrainians love celebrating. They celebrate births, weddings, name days, birthdays, national holidays, Soviet holidays, Saint days, and occupation days (Nurse Day, Teacher Day) to name a few. Typical gifts are flowers, chocolate, and cognac that are always accompanied by a short speech. I guess in a country that has suffered so much, words are one of the more original, thoughtful, and inexpensive ways to show someone that they are important to you. -Time to think. Like today, I have had more time to just be than I probably had in a month in the states. Life is much slower here for me.- The spring awakening. Ukraine resembles northeast Ohio for its winters. It's cold and gray for weeks on end. I can't get warm no matter how many pairs of tights I put on. Sometime during April there is an overnight change; green grass, buds, blue skies, and a deafening din of animal husbandry.- The joy of getting water. Almost every week our water is turned off. Sometimes just for a day but more often for two or three. I hate cooking when there's no water, it slows down the process and I get headaches from dehydration. When the water gets turned back on, I do a little dance and thank the water gods. It's a simple pleasure that never gets old. -The 6th form. The students in the 6th form can make me smile even on the worse of days. They aren't necessarily a smart class, but they're witty and enjoy a practical joke. - Naps. What else am I supposed to do in winter?- Escape into the simple life. There are so many problems and injustices, however people that I interact with daily don't always put their energy into complaining about these things. I never hear conversations about the future, philosophy, or character development. Most of the time I find this frustrating, I wish to hear something more complex and thoughtful. I'll miss being around people that cope by focusing on the simple things and daily life. - Summer outfits. I've often joked with Americans about what it would be like if What Not to Wear came to Ukraine. Granted, the culture barrier and spending money on useless accessories would ultimately cancel the show. I thank the local interpretation of globalization for the incredible originality that shines through women's fashion, particularly in the summer. - Babushka waddle. Women over the age of fifty have a distinct universal walk. It involves short steps or shuffles with the weight being passed onto the forwarding foot. It appears as though it's a natural part of the aging process, of becoming a babushka.

Earlier this summer I listened to an interview of Abhijit Banerjee on Econtalk about poverty. I found myself agreeing with what he was saying, particularly in regard to education and health for developing countries. His descriptions of programs never mentioned Eastern Europe, but parallels to Ukraine were made again and again. Below is an excerpt of the interview where he talks about education. What he is describing here is exactly what I've experienced during my Peace Corps service:

Let's turn to the role of education, which is often thought to be the biggest single barrier to development; and as many have pointed out, there have been some dreadful results and attempts to improve education. This isn't only true in developing countries; it's true in developed countries as well. I always find it ironic that people look at the ineffectiveness of government spending on education via aid and forget how ineffective American spending on education often is in our own country. Let's talk about the big picture first. You contrast what you call the demand wallahs and the supply wallahs, where wallah is a term that means "provider of." Some people suggest we need to build more schools, create more teachers in these poor countries. Others say that unless there's a reason to go to school, a reason to invest, all the schools and teachers in the world won't matter. Talk about what's true and false about those views and what we do know that can make students better educated in poor countries. We know that the demand method--when it's clear that there are benefits from education, people put more effort into it. Also the supply method--when people have schools to go to, they learn more. It's not true that you can just tell people that you should want education and then magically schools will appear. There is a lot of clear evidence that school construction and more generally making schools more available does affect the educational level. Having said that, the reason why that debate is a bit besides the point is that if you look at where the big failures are, they seem to be inflated with our putting effort into sending these children to school and schools are there and still true that people aren't learning. That's the most striking thing. The striking fact is the lack of learning in settings where there doesn't seem to be any obvious lack of demand, or any lack of supply in the sense of there being a school, a teacher, etc. I think what makes it really interesting is that fact. You see a lot of private schools in developing countries. Interesting there are private schools that the poor send their children to, $1 a month or $2 a month kinds of private schools. They are all over the developing world. These parents are very poor and for them, $2 a month is a lot of money, so they are putting effort into this. They are making sure that their kids are getting something that they value. Yet even in those schools, you see slightly better results than the government schools, but still very disappointing results even in those cases. The average kid there isn't studying at great levels, either. The problem seems to be attitude of the entire education system--the teachers, the parents, and even the children toward what the goal of education is. They seem to have the idea that the goal of education is to get through some difficult exam and get some job having got through that. And that's something that only a few people can do it, what we call a winner-take-all education. It's like education is some long large gamble, something everybody should try, but it can't work out for everybody or for most people. Whereas in fact we know that most people get something out of being educated. Even if you can read a little bit you understand what these instructions are from the doctor; you do a little bit better in bringing up your children. The benefits seem to be much more widespread than people assume. The teachers seem to assume that most of these kids are hopeless; there's no point to trying to teach them anything. They just teach to the top of the class. And the parents don't complain, because they also think that the goal of the whole system is to train somebody, to find out whether your child is one of those few lucky geniuses who is going to go on to get a good education and a fine job; and if he isn't, what's the point of educating him? Everybody is much more pessimistic about the education outcomes of the median person than they should be. So, based on that, the curricula are way too hard, the teachers don't pay any attention to any of the children falling behind in class, the parents don't complain when the children fall behind in class--either they assume that there is some rough justice there, either your kid is really smart and the education is worthwhile, otherwise there is no point. So, everybody kind of colludes with that, and the kids very quickly lose hope. They kind of figure out that they are not one of these anointed people, and they start giving up. You see these children sitting through class after class where they understand nothing. They are in fourth grade, they can't really read. They are teaching history, they understand nothing of what's going on, but they sit calmly through school and start kind of dropping out. They vote with their feet. When they are in fourth grade they are too young; maybe keep coming. But by the time they reach sixth or seventh grade, they know the school thing is not working out for them, so they just drop out. You see this pattern over and over again, of unreasonable expectations that then are effectively used to clean out most of the people in the education.

I found this song by Benny Bell to be quite funny: Pincus the Peddler

This past week was fall break for schools across Ukraine. After taking care of some business in Kyiv I visited a friend in Crimea for a few days. Crimea is beautiful all year, but I especially enjoyed the changing leaves this time. We hiked around Bahcisaray, a Turkish settlement surrounded by mountain caves.

My friend Karen sent me this card for my birthday. It almost made me emotional. This evening I spoke to my parents about an outing they had this weekend in Cleveland and now I can't wait for cold December weekends of shopping and drinking milkshakes. I'm almost home, Ohio.

It's been a busy period for foreign correspondents in Ukraine with Yulia Tymoshenko's trial. I was a little surprised that no one has mentioned to me the results in the past week. The teachers' room, birthplace of all my gossip, has been completely silent about this issue. Perhaps I missed the conversation but I'm more inclined to believe that it hasn't occurred for two reasons. First, my colleagues are refraining in order to avoid a heated debate. It's not in their nature to discuss politics. Second, it is too distant from their day-to-day lives.

Hence, I was surprised today to overhear a conversation I never expected. Most conversations in the teacher's room are about the personal lives of students, the weather, when it will be pay day, and how much everything costs. Today's conversation took the typical route. First, they stated how cold they were and asked each other about the temperature in their classrooms. Then, they asked each other if they were heating their homes (it's in the low 40s). This was followed by what the price of Russian gas is and what each of them heard on the news the night before.

The next comment I'm still trying to process, translated from Ukrainian, was, "I like the system in Belarus, people are satisfied there. It's good that the president has all the power and that the media is censored." Bam.

This wasn't said by a babushka, but a woman in her early thirties. Everyone in the room (except for myself) agreed with her. It goes against everything Peace Corps is trying to promote in Ukraine (democracy, freedom of speech). It hurt to hear after spending so much time working in this community.

I listened to this story today from APM: The Story about a Jewish town outside of Lutsk during the war. I wish I were a little bit older so that I could have interacted with this generation that immigrated to Cleveland.

Last month I received the best birthday gift of getting to meet my brother and sister-in-law in Copenhagen. It was truly undeserved and I'm forever in debt to my family for all of their love and support. One of the most difficult to describe experiences I've had as a Peace Corps volunteer is jumping from my everyday life in rural nowhere to being my former self. Leaving Ukraine, for me, is about freeing myself of this altered reality. The point of which I go from being the Amerikanka under constant pressure to be the perfect example of my citizenship to the self I'm comfortable as is a draining exercise. It's why going to Kyiv to be anonymous is so refreshing. Mentally leaving Ukraine is going to be difficult. I realize how none of this is earth shattering.

The physical point where I will leave Ukraine for good will be Boryspil, the main airport in Kyiv. Some of my peers really like Boryspil, especially after its reconstruction, because of its modernity. I despise this airport. In the past it was ridiculed for its chaotic format, unwelcoming feel, and dirtiness. Though the word to describe my opinion of the old airport isn't "like" I appreciated it for having something becoming more infrequently occurring in a globalized world. It had an identity; a lively, greasy, corrupt spirit.

The new terminals, hundreds of millions of dollars, look no different than any other budget addition to any other regionally significant airport in the world. There is no way of knowing you're in Ukraine in this glass and steel skeleton. There are English pubs and duty free shops, void of Ukrainian goods besides some vodka and chocolate. There isn't even a welcome sign in Ukrainian. To my mind, this is the perfect analogy of where Ukraine stands today to the outside world; lacking an identity and willing to scrape any leftovers to make it look like a legitimate player. Ukraine is constantly looking to the outside for guidance, never looking internally to see what's missing.

I was thinking about this as I was enjoying a blueberry smoothie and pecan pie in a pleasantly dim lit lounge of the Riga airport on my way to Copenhagen. Much to my surprise, a discussion on this very topic of globalization and the airport has come to the forefront on design sites. Here's an interesting article.

I admit my last few entries have been weak and I blame the ticker for entries on my blogger account. Every 100 entries, yes, twice during my service, I celebrate with pandas, this one courtesy of Boing Boing.

Thanks everyone (Mom) for following me over the last two years!

I recommend SovLit.com to freshen up on all of your twentieth century based conversation topics.

Bridges of PittsburghCirca 1905. "Pittsburgh from Mount Washington -- Monongahela River with Smithfield Street Bridge and Pan Handle Bridge." Panorama made from two 8x10 inch dry plate glass negatives. Detroit Publishing Company.

PGH: 19051905. "Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, from Mount Washington." 8x10 inch dry plate glass negative, Detroit Publishing Company.

I love these images of Pittsburgh too much not to share them. I look forward to crossing a bridge or two in a little over a month.

I like the autumn time change. It usually comes at a much needed time of the year when I could use that extra hour of sleep. That first Sunday strikes me as crisp and sunny.

For some reason, Ukraine is taking Russia's lead and isn't going to change back an hour like most of the world. The best worst part of this update is the reasoning for the lack of change, as stated in forUm:

As reported earlier, the MPs believe that annual time conversion from winter to summer time "causes time stress and has a negative impact on the psychological and physical conditions of people, which results in greater loss than an insignificant energy saving."

As for me, the one word that doesn't come to mind with time change is "stress." If anything, if I were a government official I'd be more worried about other stresses that impact the psychological and physical conditions of people such as the tardiness of government paydays, the lack of medical supplies, poisoned water... What loss are they speaking of?

The last full week of September I went to Copenhagen to meet up with my family for the UCI (Cycling) Worlds Championships. It was awesome.

On the way back to Kyiv I had a layover in Riga, Latvia. I noticed that several Israelis were getting on my flight. I immediately realized that it's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Many Jews make a pilgrimage to Uman, Ukraine for Rosh Hashanah because it is the burial site of Rebbe Nachman, founder of the Breslov Hassidic movement.

I was nervous about landing in Kyiv because there have been some recent changes to the visa regime and Peace Corps has warned us that we might experience trouble re-entering Ukraine with our documents. Luckily, I blew right through passport control and customs. Upon whispering a "Slava Bo-hue" (Thank God) under my breath I raised me head up high, free from the lines of inspection.

In a period of my life when I'm constantly dwelling on social cues and overhearing conspiracies, I had to wonder if I'd just gotten through because I look rather Ukrainian. Yes, my freckle count is much higher than the average, but in general I look pretty similar. Behind me over the barrier were Russian nationals waiting to get their stamps, making sour faces at the hordes of inflowing Hassidic Jews. At the customs counter every single Asian looking person was being pulled aside and asked what his or her official business was.

Boryspil (Kyiv's major airport) has a lot to learn when it comes to being less evident in its racial profiling. I left the experience a little disappointed, but relieved that there is national dialogue about racial profiling this very week. Here's an article in forUm.

Last week Dolce & Gabbana announced that they are killing their D&G line because of "price wars" with the other line. This is sad news for former Soviet states everywhere, home to counterfeit D&G products. I can't imagine walking through a bazaar without stockpiles of sunglasses and perfumes. What are men between the ages of 20 and 30 going to wear when they go clubbing? Ed Hardy? What self-respecting 6th grader will replace his D&G socks for Armani?

My last year of college while getting my thesis bound at the copy shop I sighed with the relief of knowing I wouldn't need to hunt down or buy any more obscure magazines or textbooks about urban planning in Eastern Europe that I couldn't afford. I could stop. Of course, I didn't know that in less than four months I'd be moving to Ukraine where there are large used book bazaars on the weekends. I'd be in the mecca of socialist planning, of predetermined industrial cities that were calculated to the exact number of cows per hectare. I'm afraid to say I'm not stronger than the temptation and am trying to think of creative ways to tape these books to my body since my suitcases will be borderline overweight.

Not much changes in my village. The weather, yes. The sort of tomato seed planted or the state of a lampost. This has been a big year then by these measures.

This past spring one of my favorite garbage dumps has miraculously been transformed into a new building. It's yellow! It has curves! It's so obvious that someone somewhere abused funds and the political party in power is trying to mellow disapproval!

Meet our new "Building of Work/Labor." The old site was a first floor apartment, so I don't know what all they'll do with this space. I dream of workshops and trainings. Childcare.

I have to say I'm impressed with the construction. There are five air conditioner units on the back of it. It also has the first parking spaces I've seen anywhere in my town.

Survivor Camp 2011 was a success! Roughly fifty of us camped on a wildflower covered mountaintop several kilometers away from the closest market. Yes, we were rained out the first few days but 4th July celebrations and Ivan Kupala made up for that.

Our Survivor Fashion Show

My wreath for Ivan Kupala that took way too long to make

Our kitchen set up with local teacher and guide Oleksander

Morning Exercises

Doing what I do best, embroidering during a break.

Thursday, the first of September was First Bell or Day of Knowledge all across Ukraine. It's estimated that there are about 4 million school-aged children in Ukraine. That's a lot of hair bows.

I have a good feeling about this semester despite the guilt that I won't see it to the end. I'm excited about the variety of grades I'll be working with and the new blood at our school. Above is a picture of my counterpart, Alla, with her new class of fifth formers. Her seniors graduated last May and as a class teacher she's been nominated to be in charge of "5a" until their graduation. I love the girls in the left column. They're my personal cheerleaders.

A constant topic of conversation for volunteers and their family and friends that come to visit Ukraine is the gap between the have and have nots. A two-week tour of the country leaves a great impression of beautiful countryside, hospitable people, and lots of potential. It's difficult to understand why Peace Corps is operating in this country in comparison to images sent to us from parts of Africa and Asia. I don't want to start a rant about why Ukraine needs love and attention, but I'd like to say that so much of what is presented to visitors to this country is a facade. On the surface, despite the political and economic headlines, the country is working. You can see with your own eyes renovated apartments, nice cars, and talented children.

Simplifying a complex issue, Ukrainians have been taught to show their best face to outsiders. The Soviet system was all about showing off the wealth of the country, there are stories of foreign correspondent visits to kolkhozes of utopian quality. Only, the people were given food and pressed clothes for the day that were taken away once the media left. This reaction of presenting the best side has trinkled down to the individual. On the one hand it's upsetting because it creates a false impression that can cause others to take advantage. It delays attention to much needed help. On the other hand, it has taught me how to present myself despite some missing pieces.

from ForUm-

The results of a household opinion survey conducted by the State Statistics Committee showed that over 40% of Ukrainian families cannot afford even the most necessary goods. Though the results showed a certain positive trend, on the whole they are unfavorable. It turned out that 40.6% of Ukrainian families constantly refrain from buying the most necessary goods (this figure was 43.6% last year). Of them, 3.1% cannot even provide enough food (3.4% last year) and almost half of the polled (47.8% against 45.3% last year) said they have enough money for daily expenses, but do not have any savings.

Only every ninth family (11.6%) has the possibility of putting away money for a rainy day, Kyivweeklyreported.

Rural families were more optimistic about their well-being, which experts attributed to the lower cost of living in the rural areas and that fact that these people live off their private farms.

Pollsters asked how respondents would spend additional incomes and received the following answers:

medical treatment and recreation

improvement of living conditions

purchasing clothing and footwear

purchasing household appliances

improvement of nutrition and education

education

putting away savings.

My amazing summer wrapped up with a Peace Corps conference for my group's COS (Close of Service). It was a wonderful time of remembering what we've accomplished and commenting on how much we've changed. Now it's on to goodbyes, paperwork, and finding employment.

For over the past year I've been dreaming of finding a "COS outfit." Luckily I scored this number at a bazaar this summer. It has all the elements of a boardwalk along the Black Sea: rhinestones, parachute pants, animal print, tropical elements, neon, and of course flammable spandex.

On the way to Molochansk and my last camp I passed through Zaporizhia, home of the Zaporozhian Cossacks and the DniproHES hydro-electric dam, once labeled one of the wonders of the world.

The Zaporozhian Cossacks have an interesting story, today there is a museum where they once lived.

Last week I attended a friend's language camp held at a sanatorium on the Black Sea. He works at a pedagogical college where young people learn to become English teachers. Part of their practicum is leading summer camps, a huge business in Ukraine. The last three weeks of this particular summer camp focused on English and his college invited some volunteers to help with activities. Once again it was nice to meet new children and see a different part of the country.

Sanatoriums like the one the camp were held at struggle to become privatized, some Peace Corps volunteers work with these organizations to make them less dependent on government contracts. This particular one appeared to have a contract with the Russian government, so there were two large groups of children from Internats. An Internat can be translated as orphanage but really it's home to many youth. In Ukraine children are sent to internats by families who can't afford to raise and feed they're children. Children with special needs are also sent there. My experience with these groups has been limited, but I'm amazed to learn about these children's lives and how different they are from those taking part in government programs in the US.

The group from Moscow seemed to be an exception to the norm. They were well dressed and opened up about events and special programs they had attended. They had many questions for me and the other Americans, like what Russian TV shows are popular in America. Knowing very little English, our time together consisted mainly of children's songs and UNO. They were adorably sad to see me go, gifting me with handicrafts they'd made. The best present though was a set of spoons, as shown below. The children have been playing spoons since elementary school and put on a concert for us. They played rhythmically to folk songs. The next day a group of them gave me an individual lesson, leaving me with slightly swollen hands and light bruises along my legs and arms. I feel as though yet another level of cultural integration has been checked off my list.

I apologize for the lack of entries lately. ABC and scattered Internet connection have been my excuse for not writing. I've been jotting down in my notebook daily amusings that I'll hopefully compose during language camp this week.

After ABC I took a quick tour of the east to Lugansk and Donetsk, which comprise the "Donbass", the industrial and coal mining heart of Ukraine. Before arriving I assumed that it would be coal-dust covered with not so warm people, using the retold stereotypes. I was quite surprised at how beautiful the area was. Much like America's rustbelt, the Donbass has had a difficult time restructuring itself beyond energy and manufacturing. Factories have closed and oligarchs fail to invest in their properties. On the one hand, this causes unemployment. On the other, the environment is much cleaner. In fact, I found it much easier to breathe at my friend's site than at my own, perhaps because there isn't trash burning in the center or animal waste everywhere. I enjoyed the remnants of soviet planning of company towns and tried to imagine them at full capacity.

Being in the Donbass, I didn't feel like I was in the Ukraine I know. Lugansk is an 18 hour train ride away from Kyiv. The area is historically Russian and I heard very little Ukrainian on the street. I found it amusing that at the train station the map of routes didn't have a line dividing Ukraine and Russia, as though Ukraine is indeed part of Russia.

Ancient fertility goddesses found in the area displayed in the courtyard of Lugansk's pedagogical university.

I love the socialist sculptures.

Gas Lines to Russia

Me posing with one of the great tourist attractions of the east, a terakon. A massive hill of coal waste. They dot the countryside, forming alien landscapes.

Ideal Body of the Soviet Female

Pun of the Week: Chai Coffee+ski (Tchaikovsky)

The camp I was at last week was close to Kosiv in the Carpathian Mountains. Luckily, we had the opportunity of going into town on Kosiv Day (though us campers must have looked like savages at this point, caked in mud). Kosiv, near Kolomyia, is famous for it's crafts and sense of nationalism. On Kosiv Day people come out to celebrate in the center, wearing traditional shirts and costumes. I wanted them all.

On the way to Survivor Camp I spent a day in Kolomyia, the center of Hutsul culture. It's a large town near the Carpathian Mountains, home to a number of cultural museums including the Pysanka Museum. Ukraine is about the size of Texas and has such great diversity from region to region. Kolomyia's language and culture varies greatly from my region of Odessa. In Kolomyia people seemed more open and have a different outlook on what it means to be Ukrainian. The town was dangerous for me, as I kept on finding embroidery shops and stores of handicrafts.

Here are some pictures from Kolomyia. The women lined up along the side of the street are selling dairy products. It's typical to see on market days women standing outside for hours selling reused plastic bottles of milk. It's something I've grown used to but I found it funny to think that in most states this act would be illegal, especially since it's unpasteurized.

I'm back at site for a few days after Survivor Camp which was a great success. Upon entering my village yesterday by minibus I was welcomed by sunflower fields. Sunflowers remind me of home, of my grandparents' place in Greenford. This evening I went out to the fields to reflect on my family and how grateful I am to grow up close to so many cousins and other relatives. I hope in a way my reflection and mourning upon this sunflower hill is felt back home.

Quick Tips from the Village Better Business Bureau

Don't make an end-of-the-world facial expression if your customer doesn't have exact change. Lay gravel or a path to your business so that customers don't have to leap across puddles. Bonus: this will help with your dirty shoes problem!Unless deaf or belligerently drunk, there is never a need to yell at your customers. In fact, greeting them and saying 'please' or 'thank you' will likely cause them to come back again. If you sell perishable goods, try to cover them. Look into communicable diseases some time.With food, don't greet flies and other insects. It's good to vary your selection. Having the exact same products as your neighbor and the other 5 stores on your street is not an advantage. If a customer enters your store, please acknowledge them in a timely manner. Don't ignore them for more than 2 to 3 minutes. End that conversation on the phone with your sister. SmileKnow what you sell. Mark your inventory.Don't hire your mother. Though she might work for free, her inability to move and lack of interest in selling is a hinderance. If a customer comes in, points to something and asks to see it or wants to buy it, don't say "no." Trust me, if you want to make a profit, you're going to have to have some transactions.

Last week I had a great time in Crimea taking part in Access Camp, part of the Access Program sponsored by the United States Embassy. The Access Program began in Turkey and it's a 2 year program for high school students to learn English and about American Culture for free. The Ukrainian program takes place in the cities of Luhansk and Sevastopol where English Language Fellows are located (ELF's are kind of similar to Fulbright teachers).

During the camp, participants got to take advantage of the awesome weather and sea and had lessons on civil society, media freedom, and healthy lifestyles. At the end of the week teams presented projects related to these themes.

I love summer because I get to interact with some of the best, sweetest, most motivated students. I also enjoyed this week because I had a double bed with a real mattress to myself. Yes, I'm that easily won over.

They're not necessarily pretty, but poppies have become my favorite flower in Ukraine.

Little things that I wish to share because of the warm-enlightening flash felt includes some insight I’ve received from listening to a lecture held by the CSIS (Center for Strategic and International Studies). The CSIS hosted a conference in 2010 about the current mortality crisis in Russia. Many of the factors that contribute to the demographic crisis in Russia are relevant to Ukraine, though alcohol and narcotic use is much less severe in Ukraine. In both countries, finding men over the age of 60 has an almost Where’s Waldo quality to it. My vocabulary on cardiovascular disease and high blood pressure is quite advance.

The part of the conference that I found the most revealing was a session on healthcare in Russia. Ukraine (as well as Russia) has always played a captivating role of not being quite Western nor Eastern. The cultures in this region of the world are a blend of several influences. The debate on West versus East causes a lack of an undisputed center. One way this dispute bares itself is in healthcare practices and how health/proper care is perceived by people in Ukraine (particularly conversations I have in my village).

There is no right answer, but often what I’m ordered to do in the name of my health causes me to tilt my head to the side like a confused dog. Sure, eating heaps of garlic, onions, lemon, and honey will help fight against colds. However I’m not so sure that eating lard will “help clear my blood transport system”, sitting on a cold surface will freeze my ovaries, genetically modified foods will leave me sterile, or that leeches are good for cleaning blood (though I’ve read that this practice is all the rage in Europe).

According to the CSIS lectures, healthcare in Russia and Ukraine has changed very little in the last 20 years. Hospitals are used for acute diseases and traumas, little attention paid towards prevention. Typically people don’t have a specific family doctor, they only interact with a doctor at a hospital or clinic.

Up until the 1960s, Soviet healthcare was on par with Western Europe and the United States. One of the lecturers, Martin McKee, mentions that in the 1960s Western pharmaceuticals started to produce drugs for hypertension, Parkinson’s, mental disorders that lead to the “mass medication” of the diseases of aging. This didn’t happen in the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union never produced a modern pharmaceutical outlet, and in any case didn’t have an efficient way of distributing medications. This is in part why preventative care is so limited today in Ukraine. Medication is reserved for severe treatment; for example blood pressure medicine is only taken after an episode in some communities like mine. The lack of monitoring and safety concerns of pharmaceuticals sold today in Ukraine is a whole other issue.

Another interesting fact mentioned in the lectures was that the Soviet Union never administered random trials or study groups to measure the effectiveness of treatment. In a way, this allowed people in charge to never have to admit how ineffective their system was. Therefore, “treatments” were performed (and still are being performed) that have no benefit such as magnetic therapy, light therapy and so on. This was highly functional for the regime and doctors because they could charge informal payments for these things (unlike drugs taken at home). Patients enjoy these treatments because they often take place at spas or sanatoriums for weeks at a time. A few weeks off work displaces the thought that the treatment might be ineffective. Besides the lack of funding and loss of talented professionals due to low salaries, care in Ukraine looks uninviting and scary to me. A birth of a child which in the U.S. calls for a day of recover in a hospital takes two or three weeks in Ukraine. Outbreaks of TB and cholera are common.

There is some light. The medical professionals I’ve met love what they do. In the past few years groups like Peace Corps and the WorldBank have promoted healthy lifestyles through campaigns in schools, public places, and the media. Hopefully with economic growth and the filling of the information gap Ukraine will become healthier.

Not just for the Icee beverages that made going to the mall much more palatable as a toddler but also for coming up with the idea of allowing costumers direct access to products. None of this behind the counter, pointing at what you want businesses.

I'm listening to a Planet Money podcast about failures in New York and they are passing the Woolworth building. The guest mentions that Woolworth was the first company to have what is commonplace today; aisles of goods that a costumer can pick up and touch and put into his or her basket. Before this practice, everything was behind a counter.

One of my guiltiest pleasures in Ukraine is supermarkets and chain stores in the major cities. I love the freedom of browsing instead of my process in the village where behind-the-counter is the norm. In the village, I never go into a store without a mental list of what I want, making sure that I ask for what I want in an order that causes the least amount of movement from shelf to shelf for the employee because otherwise I'll get grunts and flat out "net"s if it's too much of a trouble to serve me. Luckily people know that I'm a guest and look after me, but on occasion it doesn't work out as planned. I especially hate this process when it comes to buying perishable goods. I can't tell you how many times I've bought spoiled yogurt because I can't handle the container until after I've paid for it.

Okay, back to being slightly productive.

Since school's out and I've got more time on my hands than I'd ever want to admit, finding ways to benefit my community is quite the challenge. Sure, I've got plenty of other ways to occupy my time. For instance, I'm near the six month countdown until I'm stateside and job search timetables recommend that I get a move on my next step now.

To limit my time in front of my computer, I've hired myself as a farm hand, helping out at a relative's five hectare farm. One thing that Ukraine trumps the US in is produce, when it's in season that is. Farmers' markets abound (called bazaars) where local farmers sell whatever they harvested that morning.

I've got an interest in agriculture, perhaps to honor my ancestors. However, it doesn't go beyond reading reports or articles in The Economist. I can't even identify the leaves of certain crops. The past few weeks on the farm has given me the crash-course education I should've received in self-reliance. I'm not a natural, though. I have a tendency of ripping a few roots, scaring off the chicks, and I'm afraid bee keeping is something well beyond the limits of my intelligence.

Yes, I'm learning a lot, a self-exploration that would make Henry David Thoreau blush. I'm amazed by the stories the farm's owners, Arsen and Halya, tell me about their struggle to maintain the land and turn a profit. Farming isn't their main occupations. Arsen still works part time for the hospital and Halya is retired, the food that they harvest is canned and preserved to feed them and their relatives. The grain is sold to pay for coal. They struggle to water their crops, all by hand. Yes, there are a few hoses but they're useless now. They used to keep a bunch of pigs but are down to only one because the middle man that sells it to the government barely covers the cost of feeding it. I'm amazed by the inefficiency of their farm, so much goes to waste due to a lack of irrigation, manpower and improper seed density and pests. Pesticides and machinery are science-fiction.

They're in the situation that thousands of Ukrainians are in since independence, when larger coop farms were divided into smaller properties that are difficult to maintain without equipment and investment.

Ukraine has great potential when it comes to producing food on it's high-quality fertile soil, chernozem (black soils). I swear stuff grows here like nowhere else on earth. Even little measly shaded plots next to apartment flats bear cucumbers and tomatoes. If anything, Ukraine could be the center of a revolution as our planet's population swells to over seven billion later this year. Everyone knows that during Soviet times Ukraine was known as The Breadbasket.

There are several barriers stalling abundance. The first is land reform which has been encouraged by the international community for years now. Currently, land is leased and can't be sold to foreign agricultural and food industry groups that can offer critical investment. The second is the prominence of government monopolies that set quotas and prices. Other issues I overhear include high-interest financing and lending, poor infrastructure, quality and safety concerns, and the small individual size of land plots. Experts say that with changes to the land-use law alone Ukraine could easily triple or quadruple its output. I'd love to have a conversation about weaknesses in Ukraine's agriculture sector, but personally writing about it does little justice.

So in the meantime I'll get better at milking goats and gathering stories about the glory days.

Last Thursday was Village Day. The holiday falls on the Ascension every year. Last year I wrote a rather lengthly piece about how I wanted Village Day 2011 to be completely different than 2010. I didn't follow through on this. When talking to different groups such as my school and the local administration, I found that they had no interest in changing the program. I've learned to respect this wish, as trying anything without support just leads to stares. I'm okay with this. It still was a fun time to see children playing and people joking over lemonade and beer.

I don't know how to describe May. At times it was unrelentingly sluggish and at others too quick to notice the blossoming peonies. Perhaps I should mention the greatest factor to my slight disorientation; a week-long escape to Iceland where I met a friend from college. I didn't need this vacation, nor deserve it, but being in an entirely different (though brutally cold) landscape with someone that knew me before my latest period of pessimism awakened me to the reality that the environment I'm currently in isn't permanent. For those of you who aren't inside my head, basically the last few months at site haven't been as fruitful as I'd like them to be. I'm not going to win any 'super-volunteer' awards for my inspiring service. Though I've had some successes, I feel as though I've done little for my community. Sometimes I feel the only thing I'm providing my site is my presence, maybe this is what they want most out of me. Americans identify themselves through their work and for me, someone with embarrassing amounts of free time, I feel incredibly guilty.

Thingvelir National Park outside of Reykjavik.

So happy to reconnect and breathe clean air.

Last week at school we had our Final Bell, where students and teachers gather outside to ring the school bell for the last time, honor students' achievements, and thank teachers for their dedication. I'm going to miss this year's graduating class, they were a great group of kids. The following day was the 11th form's graduation, where like last year, the students dress up in gowns and shiny suits for an evening of celebration and goodbyes.

Congratulating Seniors on their achievements.

What are these hair accessories even called in English?

Kind of out of order here, V blessing me with the first strawberries of the year.

I love this kid. I'm sorry I developed his UNO habit though.

Kristina is an amazing writer and I look forward to seeing where she ends up.

These are drawings from elementary students at my school in honor of Victory Day. I found them quite entertaining.

May 9th is Victory Day, a day when entire communities come together to thank veterans from the Great Patriotic War and remember the dead. It's always a nice day; no sparring over language (Russian or Ukrainian) and lilacs bloom. Here are some photos from this morning's ceremony across the street:

"In a land where fatalism remained a necessary tool for enduring hardship, where ultimate truths were kept separate from day-to-day realities, she was a lonely witness for secular humanism, soldier for New Deal, Peace Corps, position-paper liberalism." description by Barack Obama of his mother in Dreams from My Father

You know that relative that gifts a book at every major celebration of a young person's life? I had several of those aunts and it's a tradition I'll pass on. Today I'm a little frustrated that I never received Out of Control by Kevin Kelly, published in 1994. It's thick, dense, and made me drowsy at times, but I really wish my 18 year old self had had a copy.

In short, the book is about biological self-sustaining systems and how they affect man. I highlighted a number of sections while reading that I wish I could discuss with someone; their broad implications. It's surprising how modern the author's predictions are despite being written over 15 years ago. Perhaps because I'm living in a society resistant to change, I kept on wanting to expand on passages about systems that explain why centralization doesn't work, why our lives are speeding up, why the line between organic and man-made is trite.

At the end of the book Kelly lists his Nine Laws of God. I would like to think of these rules as my new self-help manifesto.

Out of nothing, nature makes something.First there is hard rock planet; then there is life, lots of it. First barren hills; then brooks with fish and cattails and red-winged blackbirds. First an acorn; then an oak tree forest.I'd like to be able to do that. First a hunk of metal; then a robot. First some wires; then a mind. First some old genes; then a dinosaur.How do you make something from nothing? Although nature knows this trick, we haven't learned much just by watching her. We have learned more by our failures in creating complexity and by combining these lessons with small successes in imitating and understanding natural systems. So from the frontiers of computer science, and the edges of biological research, and the odd corners of interdisciplinary experimentation, I have compiled The Nine Laws of God governing the incubation of somethings from nothing:Distribute beingControl from the bottom upCultivate increasing returnsGrow by chunkingMaximize the fringesHonor your errorsPursue no optima; have multiple goalsSeek persistent disequilibriumChange changes itself.These nine laws are the organizing principles that can be found operating in systems as diverse as biological evolution and SimCity. Of course I am not suggesting that they are the only laws needed to make something from nothing; but out of the many observations accumulating in the science of complexity, these principles are the broadest, crispest, and most representative generalities. I believe that one can go pretty far as a god while sticking to these nine rules.Distribute being. The spirit of a beehive, the behavior of an economy, the thinking of a supercomputer, and the life in me are distributed over a multitude of smaller units (which themselves may be distributed). When the sum of the parts can add up to more than the parts, then that extra being (that something from nothing) is distributed among the parts. Whenever we find something from nothing, we find it arising from a field of many interacting smaller pieces. All the mysteries we find most interesting -- life, intelligence, evolution -- are found in the soil of large distributed systems.Control from the bottom up. When everything is connected to everything in a distributed network, everything happens at once. When everything happens at once, wide and fast moving problems simply route around any central authority. Therefore overall governance must arise from the most humble interdependent acts done locally in parallel, and not from a central command. A mob can steer itself, and in the territory of rapid, massive, and heterogeneous change, only a mob can steer. To get something from nothing, control must rest at the bottom within simplicity.Cultivate increasing returns. Each time you use an idea, a language, or a skill you strengthen it, reinforce it, and make it more likely to be used again. That's known as positive feedback or snowballing. Success breeds success. In the Gospels, this principle of social dynamics is known as "To those who have, more will be given." Anything which alters its environment to increase production of itself is playing the game of increasing returns. And all large, sustaining systems play the game. The law operates in economics, biology, computer science, and human psychology. Life on Earth alters Earth to beget more life. Confidence builds confidence. Order generates more order. Them that has, gets.Grow by chunking. The only way to make a complex system that works is to begin with a simple system that works. Attempts to instantly install highly complex organization -- such as intelligence or a market economy -- without growing it, inevitably lead to failure. To assemble a prairie takes time -- even if you have all the pieces. Time is needed to let each part test itself against all the others. Complexity is created, then, by assembling it incrementally from simple modules that can operate independently.Maximize the fringes. In heterogeneity is creation of the world. A uniform entity must adapt to the world by occasional earth-shattering revolutions, one of which is sure to kill it. A diverse heterogeneous entity, on the other hand, can adapt to the world in a thousand daily minirevolutions, staying in a state of permanent, but never fatal, churning. Diversity favors remote borders, the outskirts, hidden corners, moments of chaos, and isolated clusters. In economic, ecological, evolutionary, and institutional models, a healthy fringe speeds adaptation, increases resilience, and is almost always the source of innovations.Honor your errors. A trick will only work for a while, until everyone else is doing it. To advance from the ordinary requires a new game, or a new territory. But the process of going outside the conventional method, game, or territory is indistinguishable from error. Even the most brilliant act of human genius, in the final analysis, is an act of trial and error. "To be an Error and to be Cast out is a part of God's Design," wrote the visionary poet William Blake. Error, whether random or deliberate, must become an integral part of any process of creation. Evolution can be thought of as systematic error management.Pursue no optima; have multiple goals. Simple machines can be efficient, but complex adaptive machinery cannot be. A complicated structure has many masters and none of them can be served exclusively. Rather than strive for optimization of any function, a large system can only survive by "satisficing" (making "good enough") a multitude of functions. For instance, an adaptive system must trade off between exploiting a known path of success (optimizing a current strategy), or diverting resources to exploring new paths (thereby wasting energy trying less efficient methods). So vast are the mingled drives in any complex entity that it is impossible to unravel the actual causes of its survival. Survival is a many-pointed goal. Most living organisms are so many-pointed they are blunt variations that happen to work, rather than precise renditions of proteins, genes, and organs. In creating something from nothing, forget elegance; if it works, it's beautiful.Seek persistent disequilibrium. Neither constancy nor relentless change will support a creation. A good creation, like good jazz, must balance the stable formula with frequent out-of-kilter notes. Equilibrium is death. Yet unless a system stabilizes to an equilibrium point, it is no better than an explosion and just as soon dead. A Nothing, then, is both equilibrium and disequilibrium. A Something is persistent disequilibrium -- a continuous state of surfing forever on the edge between never stopping but never falling. Homing in on that liquid threshold is the still mysterious holy grail of creation and the quest of all amateur gods.Change changes itself. Change can be structured. This is what large complex systems do: they coordinate change. When extremely large systems are built up out of complicated systems, then each system begins to influence and ultimately change the organizations of other systems. That is, if the rules of the game are composed from the bottom up, then it is likely that interacting forces at the bottom level will alter the rules of the game as it progresses. Over time, the rules for change get changed themselves. Evolution -- as used in everyday speech -- is about how an entity is changed over time. Deeper evolution -- as it might be formally defined -- is about how the rules for changing entities over time change over time. To get the most out of nothing, you need to have self-changing rules.These nine principles underpin the awesome workings of prairies, flamingoes, cedar forests, eyeballs, natural selection in geological time, and the unfolding of a baby elephant from a tiny seed of elephant sperm and egg.These same principles of bio-logic are now being implanted in computer chips, electronic communication networks, robot modules, pharmaceutical searches, software design, and corporate management, in order that these artificial systems may overcome their own complexity.When the Technos is enlivened by Bios we get artifacts that can adapt, learn, and evolve. When our technology adapts, learns, and evolves then we will have a neo-biological civilization.All complex things taken together form an unbroken continuum between the extremes of stark clockwork gears and ornate natural wilderness. The hallmark of the industrial age has been its exaltation of mechanical design. The hallmark of a neo-biological civilization is that it returns the designs of its creations toward the organic, again. But unlike earlier human societies that relied on found biological solutions -- herbal medicines, animal proteins, natural dyes, and the like -- neo-biological culture welds engineered technology and unrestrained nature until the two become indistinguishable, as unimaginable as that may first seem.

I enjoyed this short response by a fellow volunteer. As part of the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps, volunteers current and past have been asked to reflect upon their service.

Though it's Tuesday, it's still the weekend in Ukraine. May Day days and "Provody" interrupt the routine, officially announcing spring and the end of the school year. Provody is the day when families go to the graves of loved ones and picnic there, I just looked up the word in my dictionary and it's translated as "sending-off". Last week there was no school on Monday because it was Holy Monday or the Second Day, this week is May Day, and next week is Victory Day. Combined with all these holidays, many school days this month will be filled with seminars and cleaning. I guess I can safely say that I've made it through a whole school year.

Taking advantage of the free days, I attended two events over the long weekend. The first event was the Special Olympics which I was at last year. This year I got to play a game of soccer with a girls' orphanage, it was quite fun. It was great to see not only youth from state homes but also regional teams of disabled people. I was impressed by their skill.

The second event was a Peace Corps volunteer created half-marathon in Beregova, a city just outside the Hungarian border. The volunteer at this site is truly amazing. With her host organization, she coordinated several races through beautiful vineyard country. I didn't run, being chased by stray dogs is enough of an excuse for me not to train at site. I did make myself slightly useful, helping out on the course and running other errands. I'm not sure how many volunteers came to the event, but I haven't been surrounded by that many Americans since Swearing-In in 2009. Thankfully Beregova was welcoming to us and allowed us to claim the city square as our own for the weekend.

Here are some pictures from the opening ceremony for the race weekend. Note, the even more scantily clad girls in black and white stripes were part of an "Odessa" dance troupe. I'm not quite sure what that means, since they were locals, but I'm glad they represented my region with pizazz. The choir is a group of Roma youth that the Peace Corps volunteer has worked and created a "Roma Rights" camp with.

This dog ran a good portion of the half marathon. He seemed to like guarding the runners and barking at the police cars. I think he is a stray, but he adopted us for the weekend.

New Tools for Broke Cities

Tightening of grain control in Ukraine

Cincinnati 1915

Attack of the Badgers

Russian online film archive

The Moment by a friend about learning of Osama's death.

Chernobyl 25 years later, stories from Stary Vyshkov

I still haven't watched this, The True Battle of Chernobyl

The Legacy of Chernobyl in photographs

Jane Jacobs and the Life and Death of American Planning

Impossible Chicago, model to block sandstorms

Photos from a wedding in a Russian village

Documentary on Russian crime tattoos

Hypercities- Urban history using google maps

The Last Prisoner of Kolyma, Siberia

Obama at the 2011 White House Correspondents' Dinner

Best moments of Michael Scott

One of my favorite painters has always been Eric Fischl, so I enjoyed these (sorry they're graphic)

What is American Power? a photo essay on energy consumption

Educating for a Future Within Sight, the future of work and education

This week I've been thinking about creating an Ohio-themed playlist. This is what I've gathered so far, I'll give it a listen over the weekend to see if it works.

The National, “Bloodbuzz Ohio” Sun Kil Moon, “Carry me Ohio” Loretta Lynn, “Van Lear Rose” James Brown, “Get up Offa that Thing” Scissor Sisters, “Laura The Pretenders, “My City Was Gone” Kid Cudi, “Cleveland Is The Reason” Modest Mouse, "Ohio" Gillian Welch, “Look at Miss Ohio”Ohio Players, "Love Roller Coaster"The Black Keys, "Ohio"The Breeders, "Tipp City"Jayhawks, "Somewhere in Ohio" Guided by Voices -- "Dayton, Ohio 19-something- and 5"

Likely to be dropped:

Talib Kweli, "The Blast"Distillers, "Cincinnati"Clouddead, "Rhymer's Only Room"Super Furry Animals, "Ohio Heat"

First, thank you! Thanks for helping us fully fund ABC 2011. The promise of ABC, the creativity and positive enthusiasm generated is partially what's gotten me through these past cold and cloudy months.

Last weekend we had a quick training for ABC in Kharkiv. It was great to see "old" friends and share ideas. Outside of ABC prep, I had some memorable sightings in Kharkiv. The first was the Kyiv Jets, a junior American football team at the train station. I've never seen football gear in Ukraine and the well-built young men caught me off guard. On my wagon, it came to my attention that all the women around me were sporting heavy blue eyeliner, perfume, and pink polka-dotted black purses. It was by far the largest concentration of Mary Kay consultants I've ever witnessed. Lastly, before heading to the train station my friends and I were accosted by a woman for not speaking Russian in her land. I apologized to her in Ukrainian. She didn't find this response all that funny. This interaction made my chest a little heavier. I can understand her position but I can't agree with it. So many times I hear negative comments about the United States that don't make much sense. These comments just make it more apparent that some people need an enemy to block what's really going on around them, even if they don't know who their enemy is. In these situations I sometimes try to explain the lies but I find that this type of person likes his or her reality and so I can only go forth as an example of what I want to represent the West as.

Yet another change has occurred to the national curriculum. This year the administration is mandating testing in various subjects to the 5th-8th forms. I assume this is the first time for proficiency tests in these forms. Students were forced to buy books of test forms and answers which were quite expensive. The rest of April and May stressed teachers will dotheir best to make sure their pupils memorize the answers. It's a tad uncomfortable. Thankfully, I'll be out of the country when the testing takes place, thus avoiding the cheating and what not. I have to admit though, I teach to the tests now too. I'm ashamed.

This Friday is Earth Day! Unfortunately, it's also Holy Friday, a day when, according to the local interpretations of the Orthodox faith, no work can be done. Sadly, I can't have any cleanups or special events this week because of Easter, second to New Years in importance. In fact, this week is kind of a joke when it comes to lessons because Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday are devoted to cleaning. I overheard in the teachers' room today that there might not be school on Friday since this constitutes as work. The line between the state, religion, and personal need is very difficult to keep consistent.

Lastly, today there was a eyeglass salesmen in the teachers' room today which reminded me of a Freakonomics podcast I listened to on my 18+ hour train ride to Kharkiv this weekend. In the podcast, eyeglasses where handed out to rural Chinese children. In the study, either 30 or 40 percent of the families refused to participate. Reasons cited included that studying wasn't important to the parents, wearing glasses wasn't fashionable, and that wearing glasses weakened vision. Listening to this I could see connections to my own village. Thankfully people like this salesman exist, even if he has limited knowledge, he can still provide a much needed service. I'd say in every class at least 3 or 4 students are squinting all the time. Some of the girls have told me they refuse to wear their glasses, even although they can't see the blackboard, because of image. The argument that relying on glasses to correct one's vision can weaken the eyes (so what's the point?) is often used too. It might sound ridiculous from the outside, but listening to such logic over the past year has made me very careful in any discussion about health.

Happy Easter!

My landlady has become quite obsessed with embroidery since November or so, she's got me beat when it comes to needle addiction.

I’m hoping that this typical Sunday is the last of its kind for quite some time. It’s rather windy, with perfectly scattered rain clouds that taunt me; not so frequent that there isn’t sunshine but it doesn’t last long enough for a walk or basketball. I’ve got a to-do list that stretches ad-infinitum but none of it has to be done today and I lack the support to try something outside my experiences of what works. I like reading, researching, embroidering, and playing the “my future” game but I feel guilty taking time on these things before the sun sets.

One of the changes I see in myself since coming to Ukraine is my relationship to time. I still don’t fully comprehend or react the same way that the people I live and work with do, but I’ve certainly adapted to it and it affects how I go about implementing anything new at site.

There’s a mid-career teacher at my school that has a calendar inside her drawer. Every day she crosses off the day with a big red x, voicing a “thank god” or “oh god”, depending on her mood. She alerts everyone in the room that there are 3 days to the weekend or 2 weeks to break. At first I thought she must really hate her job but I don’t think that’s it anymore. I don’t know what she’s counting down to; perhaps her death, perhaps a ritual to the cycle of months of the year.

One comment outsiders make about Ukrainian society is its obsession with the past, particularly the nostalgia that it creates. I certainly have. On the other hand, there are moments when I’m caught off guard by the not distant future. For instance, last month I proposed a change to the curriculum for a class to make it more in-line with national testing that was just announced (whole other topic). The response to my proposal was that soon it would be April, and after April comes May, and in May the school year is over. So, why should we start something new now? Change certainly does take time. I’m always thrown off by this forward counting. It happens with age too, often if you ask someone older than a toddler how old they are, they tell you the age they will be at their next birthday. A 13 year old is 14, a 35 year old is 36 and so on. It’s almost as though the present doesn’t exist.

This approach is like a red flag for Peace Corps volunteers, we can easily point at the “problem”. We can show how to properly plan. Over the course of Peace Corps’ presence in Ukraine, the goal of passing along skills and making processes more sustainable has had successes, but much more slowly than someone on the outside would expect. The notion that tomorrow is far away and that we should wait for action until then is deeply ingrained. Problems are patched over, the root never pulled out or the idea of “prevention” ever instilled. I can’t even imagine the horror an efficiency expert would experience here.

Where am I going with this? What conclusions can I draw? I guess I want to stress the absence of seeing now as the moment. The sacred nature of the life-cycle as fate: you’re a child, you become a beautiful young woman, you marry before your looks go, you have a child that is raised by your mother because you’re too young to be established with a career, you establish yourself at your job and endlessly fuss over your child in hope of success, the child enters a university and marries, a year later your husband dies of a heart-attack, you raise your child’s child, you retire at 55, with retirement you watch and scold your grandchild until your heart gives out as well.

I’m not trying to be disrespectful, this is life. It can’t be altered unless contaminated by outside influences. I’m in a way a poison, showing off my checklists and desire to be constantly evolving. I fail to always be culturally sensitive, to be compassionate.