Hi all,

One of the nice things about living in a city is the opportunity to escape on weekends. Recently I had a weekend kayaking adventure near Chernigiv 140 km northeast of Kiev.

In addition to seeing the countryside and the river and the chance to kayak, I enjoyed spending time with Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) and Ukrainian young people.

I departed Kiev by Marshrutka (route taxi) with Susan and Katherine (two other PCVs in Kiev, Susan who is also at Counterpart) on Friday at 7 p.m. It was raining, which is supposed to be a sign of good luck. Luckily, it did not rain on us Saturday or Sunday as we kayaked. We arrived at about 9 p.m. in Chernigiv. We stayed Friday night with Brian and Lani, two other Peace Corps volunteers from our training group. Brian is volunteering at an eco-Tourism company. (Well, what will become an eco-Tourism company with his assistance. Right now, the organization appears to be one pioneering individual, Vladimir Ivanovich, and an enthusiastic band of Tourism majors from the local institute. Lani volunteers at a land-titling agency, where her job description includes trips to local farms.

On Saturday morning, we set off to meet Vlad and the students. In a mini-van with the students, we picked up some last minute supplies from one of the students families, and we stopped a couple of more times supposedly getting directions to the river. Brian grimaced and informed us that this is his typical workday. I got some good pictures of wild flowers and a stork nest. We arrived at the riverbank and assembled the kayaks. I had been picturing fiberglass kayaks. Silly me. These kayaks were metal and canvass craft that folded neatly into tent-like bags. So instead of requiring a roof rack or trailer, they had been stacked nicely into the back of the van.

After rowing for about half an hour, we stopped to meet the rest of the group where they had camped the previous night. We then piled into the boats again and set off for the bulk of the days paddling. The river, a tributary of the Desna, moved at a nice pace. It was pleasant to sit back and float, watching the green trees roll by. I was in a boat with Vlad and Katherine. Vlad rowed the whole time (in contrast to Kathryn and I, who would often rest). Vlad also chatted with folks on the shore as we passed. He seemed proud to tell everyone that he had Americans in the boat. He translated his conversations into English afterwards, but I found (to my delight) that I understood most of what he said in Russian.

At one point, we pulled over and got out of the boat to visit a children’s summer camp. I couldn’t help but think, “In the US… stopping by a camp just to drop by and chat would never happen. Security, programming, all sort of issues.” The director of the camp told us about a Peace Corps volunteer she worked with. I was ready for the kids to ask me if I had been to Los Angeles, what my favorite American movies where, and then move on to asking me about Native Americans and the hole in the Ozone layer. These are the questions I invariably received from English classes I visited in schools I visited in Borispol during training. However, these kids were in camp mode and actually didn’t ask us much. One of the councilors brought out an accordion and played a few folk songs. Then we piled back into the boats.

By this time it was about 7 p.m., and we were all tired. One more hour, Vladimir Ivanovich assured us. At about 9:30 p.m. we pulled into the beach that was to be our camp for the night. The Ukrainian young people set about putting up tents and building a campfire. We Americans helped where we could, but mostly we chatted amongst ourselves, comparing notes on cultural differences. Ira cooked up an elaborate rice soup with zucchini. Another thing that is different about camping in Ukraine. One does not eat special travel or convenience food. One eats variants of one would eat at home. Complete with toasts and shots (I had water). We ate at about 11:30. After that it was bedtime for me and the other Americans. Our hosts reportedly stayed up until about 4 a.m.

In the morning we were confronted with another cultural, or perhaps individual, difference. These students were on summer break and major vacation mode, where we PCV’s were just on a weekend trip. Our paces were even more different than would have usually been the case. The Americans were up early, teeth brushed, ready to get paddling. Well, of course breakfast had to come first. Fine, boil some water for coffee and boil some eggs, have a few cookies, and get paddling. No. Create an entire meal with soup and vegetables, and get paddling by 1:30 in the afternoon. Right. The second day we paddled on the Desna back to Chernigiv. The current was slower than it had been on the tributary so more paddling was required. However, Brian and I were in a boat together and were of one mind: ß Íå Êàðó. “I don’t care.” We were happy to take breaks from paddling despite the lack of current and float, or turn in circles, and be the last boat. I enjoyed the lack of anything but trees and water to watch. We did make in back not too long after the rest of the group.

Susan, Kathryn and I were too late to catch the bus back to Kiev. So, we happily stayed for a spaghetti dinner and a night of watching “Sex and the City” Season Four vol. 2 on DVD at Lani and Brian’s – episodes I hadn’t seen yet! And we left at 6 a.m. to return to big-city life in Kiev.

The weather is hot, and watermelons are in season!

Za Meeru (to Peace),

Delilah

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