[Note: This is a post I wrote a week or so ago and am just now getting around to posting now that I have Internet in my dorm room at LCC. It describes my first weekend in Ukraine.
1) Ruslan, age 13, ate 10 ice cream bars on Sunday (here, it’s very common to buy individually wrapped ice cream bars, much more so than buying a bucket—or in this case, a plastic bag of bulk ice cream). I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.
2) When I packed for the summer, I packed quite a few pairs of earrings (at my friend Lena’s insistence :)). However, I noticed that most of the young women connected to church here don’t have pierced ears, and I wasn’t sure of the church’s stance on the issue, so I hadn’t worn them. Valera, age 13, said to me one day, “You have pierced ears. Why don’t you wear earrings?” When I explained that I wasn’t sure if it would be looked on favorably, he assured me that Inna and Alina, his cousins who attend our church, wear earrings, so it would be fine if I did.
I wore earrings to church on Sunday. On Sunday afternoon, Yan (age 8/9) came up to me, clearly distraught. “Miss Sally, you’re wearing earrings! You’re not supposed to!” “I’m not?” I asked, bewildered. “No! God said we’re not supposed to.” Still not sure what the actual church belief here is, but I’ve decided, in the interest of not confusing small children with varying notions of what’s acceptable, to wait until Lithuania for my earrings. :)
[Update, courtesy of Olya, an older cousin: Apparently the church technically doesn’t believe in wearing earrings, but since Inna and Alina are the pastor’s beloved granddaughters, no one’s going to say anything. Still think I’ll save my earrings for Lithuania.]
3) Ihor (age 8/9) asked me, “How are you related to us?” I attempted to explain that I wasn’t technically a relation but that I considered them all part of my family.
“I think you’re like our sister,” he said, “or maybe a cousin. I feel like you’re part of our family.”
It’s nice to be loved.
4) Valera (age almost 14 and don’t you forget it) asked me and Melanie if we were going to get up early enough on Sunday morning to catch the early bus to church with him. I told him no, we were tired because we had stayed up until 2 a.m. the previous night catching up on a year’s worth of conversation.
“2 a.m.! What Egyptian strength!” he responded with fervor.
“Egyptian strength? What on earth is that?” I replied, confused.
“Haha, you just swore!”
“You said it first,” I pointed out.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t swear.” (Said very piously.)
Mel and I were utterly baffled by Egyptian strength (I realized partway through Mel’s visit that perhaps I have more patience with Valera than most people, as Mel got to the point where she would flee to the other room with a book when he would come in and start talking away in Ukrainian using his outdoor voice), so we decided to ask my friend Nataliya about it when we went to her house for tea.
“Egyptian strength? I have no idea,” she said. “Maybe it’s a Biblical reference about the Israelites as Egyptian slaves…?”
So we’re all baffled, but apparently it’s not anything profane.
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