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.

This evening the 9th form had its graduation. It's typical to have two graduations in Ukraine; one after the 9th grade and one after the 11th grade (there is no twelfth grade in Ukraine). These students took standardized tests and will either continue on for two years at our school or will move on to technical training or an institute. It was a fun ceremony, a lot of sizing-up each other's dresses and karaoke.

Afterwards I walked home with my landlady and her grandson. He wasn't in the best of moods while waiting to leave. The picture taken below was a major moment for me. It was the first time I'd seen V ever do a "Dima Squat". A "Dima Squat" is the nickname volunteers have given for this very low to the ground stance that men hangout in for incredibly long periods of time. Though it's second nature for V and all men of Ukraine, it's quite hard to do if you haven't grown up with it (because your feet are flat). I've discovered that my yoga routine has blessed me with the ability to do the "Dima Squat", surely a victory of my Peace Corps service.

Go Youngstown!

Thank you Woolworth

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.

The Breadbasket

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.

Village Day

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.

A lot of Little Nothings

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.