It's 3am, and all is well! (Of course I would be up at 2am. I think my body is incapable of jet-lag due to me constantly subjecting it to odd or no sleep schedules, and it will figure itself out at some point.)
As my pictures will show, there are a lot of beautiful buildings with ornate architecture and designs in Kiev. There are a bunch of cool structures too (see: Gigantic eggs). I love all of the fountains, and how there are flower boxes in lampposts. There is also nothing to eat but ice cream--this is barely even an exaggeration. Oh, and returning to the stray dogs--one came up to me today while I was eating, and it looked so sweet and sad that I almost fed it. I knew that it would follow me if I did, so I told it "Niet", and shook my head sadly. Although I have no idea if I'll ever return, I really liked what I saw in Kiev. I also LOVED how they literally lit up the city at night, though this may have been because the next day was Independence Day.
I accidentally caused a bunch of bed-drama in the hostel. When I first came here on Thursday afternoon I chose a top bunk because those were the only ones left, but then I was sitting on the windowsill next to the bunk underneath and the woman who organizes the rooms asked me if I was going to switch to the bottom bunk. I said yes and switched, but then took all of my stuff except for a pen when I left this evening to explore. When I returned I put my backpack back on the bottom bunk, but then a man asked if I was sleeping there because Natasha (room coordinator) had made the bed for him in my absence (fair--I left with all of my stuff and therefore could not call dibs).
I moved all of my stuff to the bunk above (my original bed) without protest, but with a warning that I would be getting up extremely early in the morning. Another woman then entered the room, saw me sitting on the top bunk, said "Oh, so you are sleeping there?", and called in the activities coordinator (the only administrative person who was there at the time). I believe the AC then asked the woman if any of the other top bunks would suit her needs; they then left the room and have been gone ever since.
Today I woke up at 5:30am to take a taxi to the airport for my 9:30am flight to ISRAEL! I was incredibly glad that my mom had me bring a Kindle (product placement, woohoo!) because it A. staved off boredom, and B. allowed me to check into my flight without printing the boarding pass (boo lack of printer access, yay PDFs!). B elicited a few giggles at security this morning (by the way, SO MANY QUESTIONS, as expected, when going through security check. Also, I'm glad my lack of dignity/embarrassment kicked in today when male security agents rifled through my suitcases during the usual bomb-check.).
Waiting for the flight afterward took FOREVER, and then there were crying babies and other irritations on the flight, but I'm in Israel now so none of that matters! I performed my usual get-through-customs-in-two-minutes-or-less magic then caught a train to Haifa where I am now staying in a hostel for the weekend.
I have a lot to learn about personal boundaries (or the complete lack thereof) in Israel. On the plane the family next to me kept putting their baby food and trash on my tray, which would have been fine if they had asked, but oh well. Also, their son basically stood over me (I had a window seat yet again) when we were landing so that he could see out the window, which would also have been fine if he didn't just do it, but I'll get used to this. Later on the train, a woman (again without asking) put her toddler up against my suitcase so that he could use it as a jungle gym. This was adorable even though I was exhausted. (Also when I met Orit and let her daughters use my notebook for sketching, her younger daughter leaned up against me to show me her drawings even though we had just met ten minutes prior.) I think years of babysitting and being a camp counselor have trained me for this, so I'll get used to it fairly quickly if this is how it is throughout the country.
The woman (who knows people from Manitoba who I know from school!) who was helping me out but who didn't really know what she was doing had me get off at the wrong train station (oops), but it obviously worked out. Another woman at the train station spoke to me in all Hebrew and did not seem to realize that I was blindly following her (though she did start laughing at me at one point, so maybe she either figured it out or decided I was an idiot). Either way, she somehow got me to an area with taxis, an dafter a long, somewhat expensive (oops again) cab ride, I finally got to my hostel.
Of course the first person with whom I would have my first major interaction in another language (I don't count the woman in the train station because I had no idea what she was babbling on about, though I did understand a few of her directions, so yay!) would be a Spanish-speaker. I believe she was in her 50s or 60s and from Colombia; she was supposed to be one of my hostel roommates but left hours ago because of the deafening music from the street party outside. I wonder if she went to a different room or to a different hostel altogether. Then I fell asleep from 6pm until about 2am, and now we're all caught up!
Love to all,
Becca
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Greetings from the Motherland (Ukraine)!
Hi guys!
Most of the last three days before leaving were spent sleeping, watching TV, and getting all of my stuff together. Wednesday morning I accidentally slept in until noon, but still managed to be ready to go at 2pm; somehow this included packing my clothes and electronics and taking a shower (Sometimes I do magical things. I think I might be part-fairy or part-witch. Either way, awesome!). From 2pm until 5pm we drove from Philly to JFK in New York. As excited as I am for my twenty hour layover in Kiev and my pre-program weekend in Haifa, I really just want to be settled into my new home in Ramla. I'm so incredibly excited to meet my roommates and everyone else on the program, and I can't wait until it starts!
In the airport a woman named Orit who was traveling back to Israel with her family told me about how tough it is to work in Israeli schools, and even though she has plenty of horror stories I'm not discouraged. She said my experience would probably be better than hers because I would be teaching in small groups rather than jumping into teaching a full class. I played and drew with her kids for a few minutes while she briefed me on Israeli schools. Part of this conversation included her offering me a job teaching English in her daughters' school, citing the school's need for a teacher an explaining that it would involve teaching English to English-speakers. I told her to ask again in a year.
A few things Orit said were intriguing. One was that there is no discipline in Israeli schools, and that children sent to the Principal's office tend to get sent back to class with a lollipop. Another was that it was like going to hell and back to teach in a prosperous and affluent school, but to teach in Ramla would be a whole other story. She also told me to plan from Wednesday to Wednesday in order to avoid long lines on Thursdays and Fridays.
Also on my flight was a Birthright group, which was pretty cool--it is always nice to see English-speakers and people in general who are around my age, though I didn't really get a chance to interact with them. On the flight I had a window seat by the wing. Because it was a Ukrainian airline everything was translated into both English and Ukrainian (Or Cyrillic? I'm not sure.) I was also reassured before boarding the plane that my luggage would be sent straight to Tel Aviv, which meant that I wouldn't have to deal with the hassle of lugging my suitcases around Kiev. The male flight attendants were super-cute and I had almost an entire row to myself, so that was great.
The flight itself was great, too--the food, while not delicious, was better than other airplane food I've had, and more than made up for my overhead lights not working. I'm almost glad they didn't work (there was light for plenty of the flight), because sleep was such a good idea. When I fell asleep it was dark, and when I woke up it was light, so the time change hasn't hit me yet, which hopefully won't change (wishful thinking, I know). I think I confused everyone when I arrived at Boryspol (Boryspil...it changes depending on the speller)--no one seemed to understand how or why I wanted to leave the airport, spend the day (and night) in Kiev, and then come back for my flight to Tel Aviv in the morning. I was finally directed (erroneously) to the transfer line and stood between the Birthright group and a few Israelis; I was surprised to find that I understood more of the Hebrew than expected, though still not much. [Spotted in airport: Boy with Pikachu kippah. Awesome. So cool.]
Going to the transfer line was wrong, which I found out after only about 10-20 minutes of waiting, so not at all a big deal. Apparently I could have just left the airport (also wrong). The flight attendant who told me this was another person who seemed quite confused as to why I wanted to leave the airport and visit Kiev. Another attendant gave me (finally correct) directions to go through Passport Control and then leave the airport and take the 322 bus to the city. As cool as it is to have a Kiev stamp in my passport, I may avoid Eastern Europe for all future transfers if possible.
Regardless, I am always up for an adventure, so this is fun (or at least not completely frustrating). On a sketchiness level: smoking in the airport is A-OK (there is even a special smokers' table, complete with built-in ashtrays), and I may have filled in Ukrainian immigration forms (the border agent handed the form back to me saying that I did not need it, which is probably a good sign). Also cutting lines--completely acceptable, not that I participated too much. The border agent was also super-cute.
I do have to say that I am spazzing out a little bit regarding feelings. I always say that I won't miss people and that I don't get homesick, and while I still don't get homesick I have started to let myself miss people, places, and things. I can't (and don't want to) call it being homesick because it won't affect my life too much and I won't be sad, but it will be weird not to be in Philly or Montreal, or studying at McGill, or working at Ramah. I also can't call it homesickness because I know how easy it is to stay in touch (even though I tend to be dreadful about keeping in touch) and because there are so many kickass experiences waiting for me, and also because all of my friends and family tend to scatter when the school year starts anyway, so leaving feels somewhat natural, even though I will be a plane ride away instead of a bus ride away.
Getting from the airport to Kiev was...a trip. Oh god. I took the Sky Bus to what I thought was the city center (it was really a metro stop which brought me to the city center many stops and a few transfers later). Luckily the weather was great and people are wonderful and so willing to help. Reminder: Know ANY Russian or Ukrainian before attempting to get ANYWHERE in Ukraine. Today I got Metro directions, only to decide I wanted to take a taxi instead (internal Ugly American moment where all I wanted to do was communicate that I would pay anything as long as I got to my destination, and quickly), only to have the taxi driver look at my hostel address and say "Niet. Metro." The adventure continued.
I had to get from Kharkivska to Zoloti Vorota to Teatraina to Kreschatyk (all metro stations), and then find the street that my hostel was on, which was also difficult because it was fairly unmarked (except for the directions spray-painted on buildings which did not help until someone pointed them out to me). I did get to see a good chunk of the Kiev area today, which was wonderful. Since I did not have anything planned for this afternoon or tonight it was nice to be able to take the time to navigate (and CONQUER and rule with an iron fist!) the metro system. Seriously though, thank goodness for the kindness of strangers [insert A Streetcar Named Desire reference here]. I managed to get to my hostel almost solely by saying "Prorizna?" (the street name) and pointing. Finding a few English speakers helped drastically, but they didn't come into play until after the metro fiasco.
I'm incredibly impressed if you read the whole way through. Give yourself a hug and a pat on the back. Also, pictures will be in an album on Facebook since I'm not sure how to put them in the blog.
Love to all,
Becca
Most of the last three days before leaving were spent sleeping, watching TV, and getting all of my stuff together. Wednesday morning I accidentally slept in until noon, but still managed to be ready to go at 2pm; somehow this included packing my clothes and electronics and taking a shower (Sometimes I do magical things. I think I might be part-fairy or part-witch. Either way, awesome!). From 2pm until 5pm we drove from Philly to JFK in New York. As excited as I am for my twenty hour layover in Kiev and my pre-program weekend in Haifa, I really just want to be settled into my new home in Ramla. I'm so incredibly excited to meet my roommates and everyone else on the program, and I can't wait until it starts!
In the airport a woman named Orit who was traveling back to Israel with her family told me about how tough it is to work in Israeli schools, and even though she has plenty of horror stories I'm not discouraged. She said my experience would probably be better than hers because I would be teaching in small groups rather than jumping into teaching a full class. I played and drew with her kids for a few minutes while she briefed me on Israeli schools. Part of this conversation included her offering me a job teaching English in her daughters' school, citing the school's need for a teacher an explaining that it would involve teaching English to English-speakers. I told her to ask again in a year.
A few things Orit said were intriguing. One was that there is no discipline in Israeli schools, and that children sent to the Principal's office tend to get sent back to class with a lollipop. Another was that it was like going to hell and back to teach in a prosperous and affluent school, but to teach in Ramla would be a whole other story. She also told me to plan from Wednesday to Wednesday in order to avoid long lines on Thursdays and Fridays.
Also on my flight was a Birthright group, which was pretty cool--it is always nice to see English-speakers and people in general who are around my age, though I didn't really get a chance to interact with them. On the flight I had a window seat by the wing. Because it was a Ukrainian airline everything was translated into both English and Ukrainian (Or Cyrillic? I'm not sure.) I was also reassured before boarding the plane that my luggage would be sent straight to Tel Aviv, which meant that I wouldn't have to deal with the hassle of lugging my suitcases around Kiev. The male flight attendants were super-cute and I had almost an entire row to myself, so that was great.
The flight itself was great, too--the food, while not delicious, was better than other airplane food I've had, and more than made up for my overhead lights not working. I'm almost glad they didn't work (there was light for plenty of the flight), because sleep was such a good idea. When I fell asleep it was dark, and when I woke up it was light, so the time change hasn't hit me yet, which hopefully won't change (wishful thinking, I know). I think I confused everyone when I arrived at Boryspol (Boryspil...it changes depending on the speller)--no one seemed to understand how or why I wanted to leave the airport, spend the day (and night) in Kiev, and then come back for my flight to Tel Aviv in the morning. I was finally directed (erroneously) to the transfer line and stood between the Birthright group and a few Israelis; I was surprised to find that I understood more of the Hebrew than expected, though still not much. [Spotted in airport: Boy with Pikachu kippah. Awesome. So cool.]
Going to the transfer line was wrong, which I found out after only about 10-20 minutes of waiting, so not at all a big deal. Apparently I could have just left the airport (also wrong). The flight attendant who told me this was another person who seemed quite confused as to why I wanted to leave the airport and visit Kiev. Another attendant gave me (finally correct) directions to go through Passport Control and then leave the airport and take the 322 bus to the city. As cool as it is to have a Kiev stamp in my passport, I may avoid Eastern Europe for all future transfers if possible.
Regardless, I am always up for an adventure, so this is fun (or at least not completely frustrating). On a sketchiness level: smoking in the airport is A-OK (there is even a special smokers' table, complete with built-in ashtrays), and I may have filled in Ukrainian immigration forms (the border agent handed the form back to me saying that I did not need it, which is probably a good sign). Also cutting lines--completely acceptable, not that I participated too much. The border agent was also super-cute.
I do have to say that I am spazzing out a little bit regarding feelings. I always say that I won't miss people and that I don't get homesick, and while I still don't get homesick I have started to let myself miss people, places, and things. I can't (and don't want to) call it being homesick because it won't affect my life too much and I won't be sad, but it will be weird not to be in Philly or Montreal, or studying at McGill, or working at Ramah. I also can't call it homesickness because I know how easy it is to stay in touch (even though I tend to be dreadful about keeping in touch) and because there are so many kickass experiences waiting for me, and also because all of my friends and family tend to scatter when the school year starts anyway, so leaving feels somewhat natural, even though I will be a plane ride away instead of a bus ride away.
Getting from the airport to Kiev was...a trip. Oh god. I took the Sky Bus to what I thought was the city center (it was really a metro stop which brought me to the city center many stops and a few transfers later). Luckily the weather was great and people are wonderful and so willing to help. Reminder: Know ANY Russian or Ukrainian before attempting to get ANYWHERE in Ukraine. Today I got Metro directions, only to decide I wanted to take a taxi instead (internal Ugly American moment where all I wanted to do was communicate that I would pay anything as long as I got to my destination, and quickly), only to have the taxi driver look at my hostel address and say "Niet. Metro." The adventure continued.
I had to get from Kharkivska to Zoloti Vorota to Teatraina to Kreschatyk (all metro stations), and then find the street that my hostel was on, which was also difficult because it was fairly unmarked (except for the directions spray-painted on buildings which did not help until someone pointed them out to me). I did get to see a good chunk of the Kiev area today, which was wonderful. Since I did not have anything planned for this afternoon or tonight it was nice to be able to take the time to navigate (and CONQUER and rule with an iron fist!) the metro system. Seriously though, thank goodness for the kindness of strangers [insert A Streetcar Named Desire reference here]. I managed to get to my hostel almost solely by saying "Prorizna?" (the street name) and pointing. Finding a few English speakers helped drastically, but they didn't come into play until after the metro fiasco.
I'm incredibly impressed if you read the whole way through. Give yourself a hug and a pat on the back. Also, pictures will be in an album on Facebook since I'm not sure how to put them in the blog.
Love to all,
Becca
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Hi guys! My name is Becca Weber, and this blog is going to be all about the next ten months of my life, in which I will live and teach English in Ramla-Lod, Israel with the Israel Teaching Fellows. For a bit of background: I am twenty-one, just graduated from McGill University, and live in Philadelphia. I plan to go to graduate school for counseling psychology in order to become a high school guidance counselor; my adventures in Ramla will most likely prove to be great preparation for this goal, due to Ramla being a city that comes with a large immigrant population and a warning to not walk around by myself at night.
I'll post more later! I leave on Wednesday and should probably start packing soon, which is something I have been saying for the last week, whoops!
I'll post more later! I leave on Wednesday and should probably start packing soon, which is something I have been saying for the last week, whoops!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)