The Birth of a World Traveler Part 1

The first time I went overseas was when I was 15. I had been to Mexico and Canada, but nothing requiring a passport...although, now both countries do. My father received a Fulbright Scholarship to teach in a foreign country. Anywhere in the world this man could've chosen. Do you think he chose an island or a place renown for its cuisine or architecture or landscape or parties? Do you think he chose a place with ancient monuments to the gods or rulers? Perhaps a tropical land populated with beautiful people? Nope. This man, my father, chose Ukraine. Sometimes, when I want to give my friends a good laugh, I'll just randomly say Ukraine. My friends love it because it's so delightfully random.

I had just concluded a rather mediocre performance in junior high school as the GPA and actual definition of an average student. I home schooled for the fall semester and we left for Ukraine in February of 1991. For those that don't know, Ukraine is located under the south-eastern corner of Russia next to Poland, Moldova, and the Black Sea. It was under heavy Russian rule until the dissolution of the USSR in 1990. Obviously, there's more to the history than that, probably slightly inaccurate, blurb, but I am no historian and this is a story about me and my dad. Let's focus, people.

My dad, brother, and I arrived February of 1991...you do the math. My brother and I were there for the experience and took Russian classes at Odessa State University (which I received a diploma from that I still, to this day, can't read) and dad taught English. We lived in the international общежитие (dormitory) for 6 months. Ukraine had just gained independence from Russia the year before and it was a mess. Here are a quick run-down of my favorite moments:

: Not knowing what there'd be to drink, we brought a stack of Kool-Aid packs only to discover there was a sugar ration.

: My brother, 16 and annoyed to be there, packed his suitcases full of books and his computer only to have his computer singed by 220W of electricity a Ukrainian faulty converter couldn't, um, convert.

: Bread lines around the corner like in the history books.

: My dad and brother buying brand new bicycles that fell apart within a week. I think my brothers' peddles fell off the first day. The bikes were probably made by Ukrainians the same guys who made the converters.

:Mopoжeнoe

: The 16:1 Coupon to Dollar conversion rate we enjoyed. I bought long stem roses almost everyday and gave them away to grumpy people. I also bought an accordion.

: Open air markets with meats and wheels of cheese sitting out all day long.

: The first day out at the aforementioned market, right after agreeing on a meeting place if we got separated, my dad getting scooped up my the militsia for taking pictures of them. After reuniting an eternity later, my father exacted his revenge by buying every military pin he could find. He's got a very cool collection.

: The summer "cleaning of the pipes" that turned off the hot water forcing us to announce when we were taking showers so we could have the door wide open to bathe within the warmth of the sun. I've never seen my toes turn so pale.

: The "Muddy Mississippi" or my hair when I washed it because of all of the dust and dirt in Odessa.

: Toilet paper that felt like paper towels and paper towels that were just tree bark.

: The woman at the cafe in front of our school building that sold --to date--the most delicious falafel.

: -20° winters and 110° summers.

: Vinny from the Bronx and go cart races.

: My first opera.

: My first embassy dinner.

: Stopping by a shoe store after we flew into Kiev beneath a blanket of snow and me only packing flats.

: Having to wait months to settle the age old question: does one lose love or ooze love?

I'm sure there are more things that I will recall later or will be reminded of that will cause me to edit this post, but it's late and that's what I remember.

This concluded Part 1 and our broadcast day...