"P Score": Language, and other challenges spanning 7 time zones: Just Another Day Of Community Integration

So, I would like to introduce you to the randomness that is my community integration. Today is independance day in Ukraine. August 24th. I attended a concert at the House of Culture yesterday and saw that there was a festival at the Hosue of Culture again today. The performance was slated for 6:00 according to the posters and I made a mental note. I have been a little down on the people at work lately, thinking, hell, if they aren't going to support my projects, than maybe my support of their projects could be scaled back. I mean, if you saw some of these programs, you might try to rationalize attending fewer too. My primary issues with them are a) the amount of karaoke sung to traditional Ukrainian/Russian songs and b) the repetition of the performances. That is to say that the dances I watched on Thursday were the same dances by the same people of all ages as the Friday program. Lenara has pointed out that since I work at the library and go to more of these concerts than most people in town, I am apt to see more repeat performances than most of the people in town- and she is probably right. Nonetheless, I saw the poster, but figured that if I failed to show, I probably wouldn't be missed. We had the day off on Friday and after I had gone out in the morning and done all my shopping at the market, I had every intention to be in for the evening. The only problem is that by 4:00 I was bored out of my mind. I had cleaned my apartment and was just sitting reading a book about the history of the United States (hey, in a country where English books are few and far between, you read what you can get your hands on!) I started thinking seriously about going to the concert at the H.O.C. I figured that at least it was something to break up the monotony of my day. So, at 5:45 I decided to head down to the H.O.C. to make a showing. I figured as little as I cared about supporting the Department of Culture, at least they would see I was there supporting their program. I arrived at 5:54pm. The only reason I know that is because when I got there there was no one there! I saw my friend Aziz who works at the H.O.C. and I asked him when the festivities would start. He said 6:00 even though close to zero people had showed for the beginning of the performance. We both did a time check- mine reading 5:54 and his reading 5:55. I retreated to find a place to pass the time until showtime. For this day several of the local merchants set up shop on the main square of town and sell food and drink to the audience. They haul out their refrigerators, freezers, and tents. Most sell the same variety of beer, vodka, juice, ice cream, pastries, and other random selections. They also set up grills in the square and sell shashlik (barbeque pork served with raw onion). Some of the audience stand up near the stage, while other hang back and sit at the tables set up by the cafes. I went to the first place I saw and asked if any of their beers were cold. Sadly, "no" was all she said. I decided to move on. The next place I stopped said that they had "half" cold beer. I relented and ordered one. I found a table and admired the concert from the comfort of my plastic lawnchair. I enjoyed my beer and took pictures from the back when the fancy struck me. As expected, I stared seeing people I knew. I mean, it is kind of difficult in such a small town, not to. This was, after all, the Ukrainian equivalent of the Fourth of July parade- even though there was no parade. As I sat waving to the people I knew some would stop and shake my hand and exchange plesantries while others waved and kept walking. People I work with at the library. A complete hodgepodge of people I know from various places- a guy from English club, a woman we worked with on a school project, the veteran Lenara and I interviewed for the archive etc. Even the mayor stopped by my lonely table. I sat watching the concert, wondering how much more I could take as we got into dances by a bunch of 8 and 9 year old girls all dressed as old ladies and making squeaks like baby birds. Just then a gentleman I recognized passed me. I fully expected our encounter to be nothing more than a half-hearted wave with the possibility of a head bob. So, I was a little surprised when the guy who owns the bike shop where I buy my tools and tubes from went out of his way to walk over and shake my hand. I wished him a happy holiday and he went on to sit down with his wife at the table behind me. I thought nothing more about it. From the shop I knew his name was Vasili (Vasya) not because I had ever been introduced to him, but because that is what the other worker who helps me with my bike calls him. Several minutes later, Vasya came back and sat at one of the empty chairs at my table. At first he asked if I was using all of the chairs and then he asked if I drink vodka. I told him that he could take as many chairs as he wanted and that if he invited me to drink vodka with him, I would accept. He explained that he was waiting for his friends and when they arrived, he would like to invite me for a drink of vodka. I said "with pleasure" as he smiled. I had finished my beer and wanted to get another. When I walked to the counter to buy another, I passed Vasya's table. It was just the two of them and three empty chairs. Instead of sitting back down at my table, he invited me to bring my chair and sit with them. Now I was sitting with the guy who works in the bike shop (I didn't know he owned the shop until later in the evening) answering questions about what I am doing in town. The concept of this juxtaposition would be so foreign to me in America, but it felt completely natural as it was unfolding. Think about it, you don't go out drinking with the guy who owns the gas station, the cashier at the supermarket, or the guy who owns the car parts store. We sat for about an hour talking about my work in Ukraine and my thoughts about the country while we waited for their friends to show. They proved that they were listening, because when the friends showed they had many of the same questions and Vasya and his wife Olga answered almost all of them. Vasya got up at one point and returned a few minutes later. It turned out that he went to order the food and drink. He came back with bottles of juice and vodka. The shashlik would be delivered when it was cooked- hot off the grill. When it was, the feasting began. Eating, drinking, and toasting for hours. I lasted until about 10:30 before having to call it a night. I was full and had had enough vodka to ensure I would have a rough morning the next day. We took some photos and I said my goodbye's. I got home a couple of minutes later and thought about what I had just experienced.
I often think about things that happen to me here that I think would be less than likely to happen to me in America. Sometimes I think I am changing while other times I think it's just a different culture here. Sometimes I know it's a little of both. And that is why I go to concerts at the H.O.C., because you never know what will happen. Seriously?! I spent 4 hours drinking and eating with 5 wonderful people tonight of whom I barely knew one. I fully expected our encounter to be nothing more than a half-hearted wave with the possibility of a head bob, but what I got was so much more.