Dear Friends and Family,

Today is March 8, Women’s Day in Ukraine and in many countries worldwide. Women are congratulated with flowers, chocolates, champagne, and other gifts. It is a day off from work and school. It is probably the most significant holiday in Ukraine, after New Years. So, on this, my third women’s day in Ukraine, I am again reflecting on the enormous contradictions presented by the holiday.

When I first arrived in Ukraine, the first thing I noticed about women here is how they dress. High heels, short skirts and tight pants are the norm. Died hair and lots of make up. Now, I have a deeper impression, but I am still conscious of the high premium placed on fashion and appearance.

Throughout training, I noticed how hard women work here, both inside and outside the home. Inside the home, backbreaking, constant labor is the norm. Without the convenience of modern appliances, keeping the home clean is a major chore. Carpets must be rolled up, taken outside, and beaten. (Men often help with this particular chore, if only to escape the prospect of the same fate). Clothing is washed by hand. All cooking is done from scratch. My Ukrainian host mom was constantly on her feet, busy. Except for about an hour each evening, when she relaxed in front of the television, and talked with her daughter, or helped me with my Russian language homework. When I moved into my own Ukrainian apartment, the phrase “a woman’s work is never done” echoed often through my head and took on new meaning as hand-washing laundry became routine. (I rolled up the carpets and stuck them in a closet).

Women do an incredible amount of physical labor outside the home as well. I coined the term “babushka brigade,” for the old women who are outside in every season. In the fall, they rake leaves, and in the winter they clear ice from the sidewalks. They do this with the simplest tools imaginable, and are constantly stooped over. Scores of other old women sit on curbsides, in every season, bundled in nondescript fabric, selling sunflower seeds or cigarettes. A third image burned on to my brain of the Ukrainian babushka is this: an old woman, scarf over her head, shapeless coat covering her form, ill-fitting shoes on her swollen feet. In both hands, she carries bulging plastic bags. The heaviness of the bags pulls her shoulders downward. She is walking home from the market with her families’ supply of potatoes and onions, and neither of her hands is free.

Professional women in Ukraine are getting things done. I am more impressed than I will ever be able to express with words, with the young women I have met in Ukraine in professional positions. They are brilliant and capable, and have more energy than I’ve ever encountered. (Also, most of them probably have washing machines).

Ukraine now has a female Prime Minister. Although she was appointed and not elected, Yulia Tymoshenko played an important role during the Orange Revolution. She motivated protestors, and is widely agreed to have played an important role in keeping the protests non-violent. At the same time, more comments were made about her hairstyle and clothing than anyone ever said about any of the male leaders of the revolution.

Women definitely have the upper hand in romantic relationships here. As far as I can tell as an outside observer, they call all the shots.

This morning, I happened to be traveling back to Kiev, so I woke up in a train. My sleeping-compartment mates, university students in Kiev, offered me a plastic cup of warm champagne, and we toasted to women’s day.

Thanks for reading this far. Now, go hug your favorite woman. And write me an email!