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On Sunday morning I left for St. Vladimir at 10. I attended the end of the service and went downstairs to the hall where we had had that St. Nicholas concert. There were some treats for everybody, I took mine and hid with them in a quiet corner, but the principal discovered me and asked to be closer to her and other carolers. The same lady that was shy about her student's varenyky looked at my embroidered blouse - I think many of you have seen it, the embroidery is black and gray and is not too gaudy.
- You are our little Ukrainian girl! (Україночка ти наша!)
- Yeah. One third of my integral personality is dominant today.
No comments followed. I was not fascinated with my own wit - there was no wit. I had just thought about that "multiple identity" and the identity gave an apt answer as if somebody was talking on my behalf.
We separated into groups, and I was in a car of a cardiosurgeon Orysia and her 7 years-old son Maxym. They took me and a teenage girl Nastya. We had chosen the area to the West from the church and into our West village. The others went to Burlington, Ancaster and in the other directions. Each group had a folder with addresses, an envelope to put donations in (they were for the school) and a booklet to write receipts about the money received.
At the first address there was an old lady in a night gown - almost deaf. We spoke to her daughter, the daughter shouted to her mother and the mother refused to accept us because she had no cash. Orysia thanked and turned back. I felt sorry. Why couldn't we just say that we we'd carol for free, just shout the carols for the senile lady's joy?! However I didn't want to start the trip quarreling about the "mission purpose" and telling that the songs=blessings are first and the money is the second or the hundredth issue here. I soon discovered that Orysia was Catholic so that was her goodwill to go fundraising for her son's school on the 8th of January, which is not the Christmas time for her. The other thing was that the old lady was living there for years and, though very old and hardly responsible for herself, she knew what she wanted. That was not me who would impose my values and ethics in this society. "The caroling opens the eyes on how the people live," said Orysia and drove to the South:
- I used to live here doing my internship at the General Hospital. XXXX street was known for the prostitution. Now it has mostly moved to Barton street. Well, when I rented an apartment on XXXX street, everything was quiet.
- Uhu, I see why they've built shelters on XXXX street.
Then there were all kinds of houses: Martha Stewart splendor with a touch of the traditional Ukrainian art almost lost in that glittering luxury or adapted for that style; there were houses of new immigrants equipped from dollar stores. The last place we visited was an old gentleman's neat and quite poor house a few blocks from our
place. On the walls there were color photos of Kiev seem to be cut out of a good quality magazine of my childhood, not later. The photos were in the frames under glass. He asked us about our last names, and we told him, I was not afraid to tell my last name in front of these people. He repeated mine for a few times, and I was waiting to hear everything from "I remember his arrival at the institute in 1947" to any curse like "I regret not to send him into the jail", but finally he said that he didn't remember. While we went from the solemn "Eternal God" to jingling "Both Earth and Heaven, Both Earth and Heaven..." he was reaching for a ten dollar note. He handled it to us with respect.
After visiting almost 20 houses the kids were "hyper" and after leaving that house they started fighting for the car keys. The old gentleman was looking at us from the door. "The gentleman is looking at you, but you are fooling around," - Orysia pretended to scold the kids knowing that the old gentleman was just happy to see those movements and foolery.
It was 4:30. I had a migraine and thanked refusing to accept Orysia and the kids at our place. Not because it looks more like those dollar-store houses. I was just too tired and wanted to see if Klavka had not tortured Baobeir to death. Luckily, my family was safe and sound. Perhaps the Christmas spirit helped.
Though, the most important thing I ask this spirit for is Klavka's integrity and flexibility. She will face even more social dangers and contradictions than I do.
To be continued.
- You are our little Ukrainian girl! (Україночка ти наша!)
- Yeah. One third of my integral personality is dominant today.
No comments followed. I was not fascinated with my own wit - there was no wit. I had just thought about that "multiple identity" and the identity gave an apt answer as if somebody was talking on my behalf.
We separated into groups, and I was in a car of a cardiosurgeon Orysia and her 7 years-old son Maxym. They took me and a teenage girl Nastya. We had chosen the area to the West from the church and into our West village. The others went to Burlington, Ancaster and in the other directions. Each group had a folder with addresses, an envelope to put donations in (they were for the school) and a booklet to write receipts about the money received.
At the first address there was an old lady in a night gown - almost deaf. We spoke to her daughter, the daughter shouted to her mother and the mother refused to accept us because she had no cash. Orysia thanked and turned back. I felt sorry. Why couldn't we just say that we we'd carol for free, just shout the carols for the senile lady's joy?! However I didn't want to start the trip quarreling about the "mission purpose" and telling that the songs=blessings are first and the money is the second or the hundredth issue here. I soon discovered that Orysia was Catholic so that was her goodwill to go fundraising for her son's school on the 8th of January, which is not the Christmas time for her. The other thing was that the old lady was living there for years and, though very old and hardly responsible for herself, she knew what she wanted. That was not me who would impose my values and ethics in this society. "The caroling opens the eyes on how the people live," said Orysia and drove to the South:
- I used to live here doing my internship at the General Hospital. XXXX street was known for the prostitution. Now it has mostly moved to Barton street. Well, when I rented an apartment on XXXX street, everything was quiet.
- Uhu, I see why they've built shelters on XXXX street.
Then there were all kinds of houses: Martha Stewart splendor with a touch of the traditional Ukrainian art almost lost in that glittering luxury or adapted for that style; there were houses of new immigrants equipped from dollar stores. The last place we visited was an old gentleman's neat and quite poor house a few blocks from our
place. On the walls there were color photos of Kiev seem to be cut out of a good quality magazine of my childhood, not later. The photos were in the frames under glass. He asked us about our last names, and we told him, I was not afraid to tell my last name in front of these people. He repeated mine for a few times, and I was waiting to hear everything from "I remember his arrival at the institute in 1947" to any curse like "I regret not to send him into the jail", but finally he said that he didn't remember. While we went from the solemn "Eternal God" to jingling "Both Earth and Heaven, Both Earth and Heaven..." he was reaching for a ten dollar note. He handled it to us with respect.
After visiting almost 20 houses the kids were "hyper" and after leaving that house they started fighting for the car keys. The old gentleman was looking at us from the door. "The gentleman is looking at you, but you are fooling around," - Orysia pretended to scold the kids knowing that the old gentleman was just happy to see those movements and foolery.
It was 4:30. I had a migraine and thanked refusing to accept Orysia and the kids at our place. Not because it looks more like those dollar-store houses. I was just too tired and wanted to see if Klavka had not tortured Baobeir to death. Luckily, my family was safe and sound. Perhaps the Christmas spirit helped.
Though, the most important thing I ask this spirit for is Klavka's integrity and flexibility. She will face even more social dangers and contradictions than I do.
To be continued.