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The Lightyellow Journal
The regular disclaimer: The views expressed on this website are my own and in no way reflect those of the U.S. Peace Corps or any agency of the U.S. Government.
The Entries
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January 2006 - Bird Flu and Other Stories
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Playing Catch-up
Yes, I'm way behind on my journal! So prepare yourselves for some serious catching-up...this is going to be long. As a special treat, I'm including some of the text messages I've sent over the past six months. Divided into convenient topics and slightly edited to take out most names and any incriminating details! But this is my life, as recorded in the messages I send to my friends.
Life in General
| Sometime in early October | to R Ah! Why is it so cold! It's only october. I'm freezing my [bleep] off. |
| Sunday October 9 (approx) |
to A Made soup, banana bread. Cleaning. Went 2 see about metal door. Apparently they don't have any plain jane doors. Only expensive ones. Also @ market accidentally agreed to "communicate" with some woman's sailor son. (Woman who jokingly called me daughter in law a few weeks ago.) So it's a fun-filled day! |
| Monday October 10 |
to A Yikes! Took laptop to comp place to download virus stuff&yahoo&stuff. Charge by download and price 190 hrv! I asked how much like 5 times, so surprised. And didn't have it on me. Have to go back tomorrow to pay. Won't do that again. [190 hrv is almost $40.] |
| Saturday October 15 (approx) |
to R Washed my black pants-the ones i bought last march and wear like every day-for the first time last night. So far they seem to have survived the trauma. Yay! |
| Thursday October 20 |
to Aunt J Question: How many oreos can a girl eat in one evening? Answer: Better not say! Am taking 1 bag to share w friends. The other's all mine! |
| Wednesday October 26 (approx) |
to R Got the battery replaced in my watch today. You know how much it cost? 1 grive. [That would be about 20 cents.] Amazing. Doesn't that seem ridiculously cheap? |
| Tuesday November 15 |
to K Not bad! I dropped my phone 2x tho and it stopped working for a while. Dropped it a couple more times and hopefully fixed. Gotta be more careful! |
| Tuesday November 22 |
to K Thought you might like a weather report: we have 1st snow tonight in chernomorskoe. Hope you're well&healthy. |
School
| Sometime in early October | to R So one teacher, after telling me not 2 weeks ago what i'd be teaching every wednesday 4 whole semester-i only get 10 form [grade] on wednesday-is out for a month studying for a month for her institute. All her classes are canceled, and i am having a [bleep] of a time getting wednesday reinstated. And all the lessons she told me i would be teaching are irrelevant cuz she's not teaching the in-between classes. WHY didn't she tell me she'd be gone? She certainly knew. |
| Tuesday October 25 (approx) |
to A Oh that's awful. I had a girl break down in tears cuz a boy drew all over her face in pen when they were supposed to be setting up their interactive notebooks. Sigh. Did I tell you? |
| Tuesday October 25 (approx) |
to A I know how you feel, but take my word-it's not all you. I have a boy who last year was interested, tried to understand. This year he's just given up. Says he never understands me, won't do homework. It's so frustrating cuz i know he's got potential. But i had to give up on him, because otherwise he takes all my time and the others, who work, get nothing. So don't be too hard on yourself. It's survival. |
| Thursday November 10 (approx) |
to A Good! And i'm not surprised. I know u are a good teacher. One of my problem classes is so bad that there's a big meeting tomorrow 2 decide whether 2 expel 10-15 kids from it&another form. They would have 2 go 2 the "evening" school. Means they've been written off. So sad, but what r the alternatives? |
| Wednesday November 16 |
to R Uchitelskaya [teacher's room] closed today cuz it's the oldest teacher in school's birthday & they're decorating. Hanging out in military dude's [he's a teacher--military preparedness is a standard class] room...posters of how to throw a grenade, assemble a gun, build a bomb shelter, wear a gas mask, dress a wound, stand in formation, etc. Kinda creepy. |
| Sometime in the middle of November | to A School is cold; no heat. Sounds like lessons will be shortened. I know ukrainians are proud of their educational system, but it amazes me that something they put such store on can be so disorganized and haphazard. How do these kids come out having learned as much as they do? |
| Friday December 16 |
to A I give a 10 [about equal to an A-] to the 2 best speakers (speaking control [test] ) and everyone says it's low. Give an 8 to 2 girls and one starts crying. How can they be upset by these marks when they're totally unprepared, asking me to translate, & making lots of basic mistakes? If anything, the marks were high. Grr. Why do i feel guilty? They never do! |
FLEX Testing
| Friday October 21 |
to A So funny to be w kids. On bus to simfi. Flex tomorrow. Everyone quiet, except my three talking and laughing! Remember being a teenager? |
| Saturday October 22 |
to K So awful! A is too young by 5 days and cannot take test...so upset, tho coping ok. Test at 2:20. They are doing it in stages. |
| Sunday October 23 |
to R Finally on bus. Asked kids what they will remember. A said (after the whole not taking test thing) you. Ruslan agreed, said even though you did not talk with them much, you were so interesting and your face so full of life. Aww! (I am beginning to think Ruslan is a flirt.) So you have to come visit. |
The American Council (I think) sponsors a program called FLEX (the Future Leaders Exchange program). FLEX is an exchange program that sends kids from various Eastern European countries to spend a year in American high schools. Last year some 300 Ukrainian kids went to America. All their expenses are paid, including a monthly allowance--so they can participate in typical US teenage activities. It's an amazing opportunity, opening windows that most Ukrainian kids never even know are there. Consider that most of the kids I work with (and this is not uncommon in Ukraine) have never been further from home than Simferopol--a three-hour bus ride away.
So I encouraged my students to apply, and three members of my debate team excitedly agreed. Next year hopefully I can convince even more. This is one thing I've gotten behind that I'm sure would never have happened had I not been here.
First of all, no one in my town had ever heard of FLEX. The regional methodologist received informational materials about FLEX for the first time this year, probably because I am here--Peace Corps and FLEX have fairly strong ties, for obvious reasons.
When I first mentioned the program to one of the other English teachers, her reply was a skeptical, "Do you really think they have a chance?" Because, unfortunately, the standard feeling here is that you should only try for things you have a reasonable expectation of achieving. There is no if at first you don't succeed attitude here. It's closer to if at first you didn't succeed...you had no business trying in the first place. For me, that's one of the more frustrating attitudes I deal with.
In any case, FLEX is--of course--a pretty competitive program. I wasn't sure how well my three kids would do, but I had my fingers crossed. I was pretty nervous because, coming from a small town, my students haven't had all the opportunities the kids from the cities have had. I was afraid their English just wouldn't be good enough to get them through the first round.
The FLEX testing has several rounds. The first round is a short multiple choice test with a pretty tough time limit--something like 20 minutes for 16 questions. It's mostly grammar questions with some reading comprehension thrown in. If you pass Round 1, you come back (usually the next day) for Round 2, which is a much longer and harder standardized test. Round 2 is based on the TOEFL test, which is a standard measure of fluency in English, used in universities and some businesses. FLEX uses something like a "pre-TOEFL" test--similar idea and structure, but easier questions.
Four to six weeks after Round 2, those who passed are invited to Round 3, which includes an informational meeting for parents, interviews, essay tests, and some group activities. Applicants have to fill out a substantial application form (a challenge in itself), get letters of recommendation and a certificate of health from a doctor, and hand in all the forms by the due date. Then they have to wait. And wait.
The participants are selected by a committee in Washington. Obviously the committee has a lot of applications to go through, so it takes some time. They don't expect to tell the lucky winners until April that they'll be going to America. (That's at minimum a 4-month wait; no easy thing!) They participate in an orientation/training program during the summer, and are shipped off to America sometime in August.
So much for the general FLEX details--probably more than you wanted to know, but I've spent a lot of time thinking and obsessing about this program, so...
I chaperoned three kids for a weekend in Simferopol. We left on a Friday, because the test was supposed to be early Saturday morning, and Chernomorskoe is too far a trip for us to have arrived on time. So I arranged for the four of us to stay with a very obliging Peace Corps Volunteer in Simferopol. This lady is amazing. Not only did she agree to let me and three unknown teenagers stay two nights with her in Simferopol, but she also cooked us dinner Friday night! Her hospitality is probably what made it possible for these kids to take the test at all--I don't know that they could--or would--have afforded the cost of a hotel, or two trips to Simferopol in one weekend.
So on Friday we left for Simferopol. I was the only chaperone for one 13- and one 14-year-old girl and a 14-year-old boy. Let me tell you, I have never felt quite so much like an adult before. There is something about being entirely responsible for the well-being of a stranger's child.
Saturday morning was Test1. We arrived right on time, then waited around for a good hour, amid general confusion and a great press of test-takers, for the doors to open.
And then, trauma. My youngest student was too young to take the test, and she found out only at the door. Tears followed, and I felt horrible. (Probably not as horrible as she did, though.)
FLEX is open to all students of the 9th and 10th grades born after a certain date. I think it was July 15, 1991. Something like that, anyway. I knew this, but somehow my student didn't. I don't know how it happened: I thought I'd talked to everyone about the birthday requirement, but either I missed her, or I misscommunicated somehow. However it happened, I still feel awful about it. She was too young only by five days, and to her it seemed like the most amazing injustice.
My other two students were almost equally upset, but rallied and took the test. The unfortunate younger student decided to stay in Simferopol--instead of going home a day early--and support her friends.
The test was much harder than expected, and the two test-takers were nervous. We wandered the city for a few hours and I bought them dinner at a pizza place. They played with my digital camera. At 8 o'clock we went back to the testing place to hear the results--if they passed there would be a second test on Sunday. After waiting for an hour and a half, the FLEX officials finally posted the results at 9:40. Bedlam--some 100 other students, and many of their parents and teachers, were equally anxious to find out if they'd passed. We finally determined that Ruslan (the boy) had passed; my other girl did not. Exhausted, we went back to the apartment. I had an awful headache (from a cold I got on Friday, stress, and dehydration) so I took something or other that knocked me out. My kids stayed up late talking and giggling...then woke up early in the morning for another dose of chatting.
In the morning we took Ruslan to the second test. It was much longer than the first, about 3 hours. After the test, he said it was easier than he expected. I was cautiously optimistic.
When the test was finally over, we had dinner at McDonalds before heading back to Chernomorskoe. I asked the kids what they thought of their weekend. They all said they'd had a good time--that it had been very interesting to meet other Peace Corps Volunteers, and to speak so much English. I was glad that, even with all the difficulties, they were glad they went.
Four weeks passed. I think I was probably more anxious than Ruslan to hear if he'd made it through to Round 3. I have an unfair number of expectations piled on this boy, which I try not to give him any hint of. But if there is any ideal candidate for the FLEX program, Ruslan is it. He's outgoing, communicative, involved, idealistic, ambitious. He has ideas, plans. He speaks English pretty darn well--and he's the only person here that has never been afraid to talk to me in English, even if I am an American. Ruslan's going places, I'm sure of it. (This is a kid that, only half jokingly, says he wants to be President when he grows up. And the thing is, I believe he could be!) FLEX was designed for kids like Ruslan. If he doesn't get accepted, I'll lose all respect for FLEX.
You see? I've got far too much emotion wrapped up in this kid being accepted into this program.
So I was sitting on the edge of my chair for the month it took for Ruslan to hear back from FLEX. He did indeed pass on to Round 3, had his interviews and filled out his application in November. At this point it's really a question of whether the interviewers saw in him what I do--and I can't see how they could fail to.
(I am ridiculously confident, which I'm trying so hard not to communicate to Ruslan. Because what if I'm wrong? I don't want to get his hopes up too much, only to have them dashed by a far-away committee.)
But now we're waiting until April--or thereabouts--to find out if he's been accepted. I estimate that about 80 kids from Crimea made it through to Round 3, and of those 80 approximately 10-15 will probably be selected to go to America. Let's all hope Ruslan is one of them! I'll keep you posted.
Late 20s
| Thursday November 3 |
to R You know, now I am in my LATE 20s. I do feel older. |
| Thursday November 3 |
to P Thanks! It was a nice birthday. Kids were sweet, sang happy bday and gave chocolate. Debate kids threw party. So sweet. |
| Sunday November 6 |
to F Thank you! And thank you for the present! So surprised (and grimey and totally not dressed) when R & P & T & J showed up at my door this morn. |
I turned 28 on November 3rd. There is something about that 8 that makes me feel so much older...I am no longer in my mid 20s; that 8 makes me officially late 20s. I never really have been one to think seriously about that perpetual interview question, where do you see yourself if 5 years? 10 years? I think I prefer to keep my options open. Such a long-term plan is only asking for failure, disappointment, or unnecessary rigidity. Of course I have ideas, but I wouldn't go so far as to call them plans.
But now I am 28. I'm single, no prospects. (Just the other day old coordinator asked me--again--why I'm alone. And a girl yesterday at debate asked me if I "met anyone" over my holidays.) I don't know what I'm going to do when I finish Peace Corps. I don't feel like I've accomplished so much with my life.
I know I'm probably being too hard on myself. Late 20s isn't old. I have plenty of time. But still...
My birthday was surprisingly nice. More memorable than most birthdays of mine; it did not pass like just another day (or week). I didn't think anyone at my school would know--I hadn't told anyone because I didn't want to have to bring in anything to celebrate. The tradition here is that the birthday girl must bring goodies for everyone else, and I am lazy. And cheap. And don't like the attention all that much. So I kept my mouth shut in the weeks coming up to my birthday.
But the school director remembered it was my birthday and brought me flowers, which of course notified almost everyone else of the event. In my first class I was serenaded (in English) with a rousing Happy Birthday to You! This is my favorite class, and they gave me a box of chocolate. It was really sweet. My other three classes also sang to me, but that first one was the best. And the biggest surprise.
In the afternoon I had my debate club. They all knew it was my birthday because there'd been a birthday date discussion just a week before on the way to FLEX testing. So I made a couple of batches of banana bread and brought them with me. Ukrainians LOVE banana bread. When I got to the debate room I was told to wait outside--they were preparing something. When they finally let me in the room, I was given a birthday hat (everyone had one, but mine had ribbons on it) and another round of Happy Birthday. They'd made posters for me, written signs on the blackboard, brought cake and tea. They did a mock debate on the topic "Who loves Carrie more." Key arguments: we come to class every week, Anya is wearing a sweater the same color as Carrie's, we sang Happy Birthday louder, Losha remembered to bring a camera. It was very cute. I was touched.
Then on Saturday, as I was lazing around in my PJs, dirty hair and completely messy apartment, the doorbell rang. Four of my Peace Corps friends had traveled from various parts of Crimea (longest trip 5 hours; shortest 1.5) to surprise me, bring cake, and take me to lunch. I was floored. (And, being me, totally embarrassed by the messy state of my apartment.)
So it was quite the memorable birthday! I had a good time.
Enter the Bird Flu
| Friday December 16 |
to A [BLEEP] . Dr called me. Sounds like i'm going to Kyiv. It's not confirmed yet, but they're calling me back tomorrow. May get to see you off. And [bleep] , I just bought a bunch of groceries. |
| Saturday December 17 |
to A A year? That sucks! We'll all be gone! No call from pc yet, hoping they don't until it's too late for me to leave today. Hummus made, chili cooking, told post office i might be gone for a month. Still need to grade copybooks, pack, & cancel a bunch of meetings. But waiting for that until i am sure. |
| Saturday December 17 |
to K So far no word, though they didn't call till almost 8 yesterday, and if they're talking to washington before making any decisions...but so far i'm still here! |
| Sunday December 18 |
to R Pc never called yesterday so i'm still here. I hope they call today. I hate not knowing what's going on. |
| Sunday December 18 |
to A PC hasn't called yet. Wonder if they will? Downside of living on main street: i get an average of 2 sales people a week. Oh! And i got my first bit of junk mail in po box today! 1 year and 1 piece of junk mail! |
| Sunday December 18 |
to K, A Dr called me again finally. He says i can probably stay but was encouraging me to come anyway for mid service or something. It was kinda funny. And he seems kinda surprised that no one here is freaking out. Oh, and it's snowing! Maybe they'll actually close the school now. Lessons are already only 35 minutes, how much more can they shorten them? |
Bird Flu intruded itself into my awareness in early December, when Ukrainian authorities announced that it had been identified in Eastern Crimea. They killed a whole bunch of birds, and quarantined the affected regions. Peace Corps takes the Bird Flu awfully seriously and immediately evacuated volunteers from nearby regions. In this case, evacuation means being called to Kyiv for an undefined length of time. Some seven volunteers were sent to Kyiv, including one of my best friends here. I thought it sounded like grand fun.
I was not evacuated.
I'm in Western Crimea, separated from the initial dead birds by miles of empty and frigid steppe. Still, I expected evacuation was imminent. After all, according to the news reports, birds had been dying for more than a month before the authorities stepped in. I couldn't imagine how it would not have spread pretty far in that time. I checked the internet every couple of days for updates (there were none), and eagerly listened for rumors from other volunteers (there were plenty). I pulled out my infrequently-used short wave radio and tried to find news updates. None on the bird flu. I tried to find news broadcasts in Russian on my regular radio, but no luck there either. I heartily wished--for the first time--that I had a TV. I asked around at school, but the other teachers were only interested in a very general way: "No, there's no bird flu in Chernomorskoe, and you know it's not really dangerous anyway..." I told a few people that, if bird flu was found near Chernomorskoe, I'd probably be called to Kyiv. No one seemed very concerned.
After a week, I calmed down and started seriously planning for the last few weeks of school, before the winter break. There was a lot going on; I was showing Miracle on 34th Street (the original black and white version), in segments, to my debate team, and planning to show How the Grinch Stole Christmas to my 8th graders as a treat on the last day of school. I had an important meeting to plan for on the 26th, and two friends coming to spend Christmas with me. There was Christmas dinner to be planned! (Tacos were a possibility, but in the end I decided on lasagna.)
So, concentrating on all this planning, I decided I wasn't going to be evacuated after all, and stopped worrying about it. Also, most of the volunteers who had been evacuated were sent back to site after a week. It seemed there was nothing left to worry about.
Then, at about 8:30 at night on the Friday before the last week of school--the 16th--I got a call. It was the main doctor in the Peace Corps medical office.
"How are things in Chernomorskoe?" he asked.
"Um. How do you mean?" I wasn't sure if he was asking a general question about life and work, or about the bird flu. Or even, as a bit of introductory chit-chat, about the weather.
"What are they saying about the bird flu?"
It turned out that the doctor had heard, from some unofficial but highly credible sources, that bird flu had been identified somewhere near me. I wasn't sure exactly where--he named a village I wasn't familiar with--but definitely somewhere in my region, or even in my town. He was surprised to hear everything here was calm. He said they (Peace Corps) would be discussing my case in the morning, nothing was decided, but that I should expect to be evacuated.
Suddenly, I did not want to be evacuated. I had plans! Things going on! And, in a fit of industry just that afternoon, I'd gone to the market and bought a bunch of groceries. I had planned a weekend of cooking and lesson planning. Also, I had a two-week vacation planned, so if I was evacuated I knew I wouldn't be back to site before mid-January--none of my groceries would keep that long. And I had a bunch of papers I needed to grade before the end of the semester. If I was going to be evacuated, I had an awful lot of ends to tie up before I went.
I cooked up a storm on Saturday, and tried to get my apartment in order. I went to the post office just to let them know I might be gone for a while--I didn't want my mail to get sent back. I worked and waited all day, but Peace Corps didn't call me.
On Sunday I spent the morning grading papers, wondering what was going on. I halfway packed for my vacation, and finished cleaning and organizing my apartment--just in case I would be here for Christmas.
Finally, in the evening, a call. It seemed like they decided not to evacuate me after all, though it was obvious they'd be happy to find another excuse to bring me to Kyiv. Was there any reason I needed to come? What about my mid-service medical? I wasn't really interested in this, though. I had absolutely no desire to go to Kyiv for a couple of days, then turn around and go back to site for a brief stay before returning to Kyiv for my vacation. Not fun. So I declined.
Monday afternoon, another call. More encouragement to go to Kyiv for my mid-service. Again I declined.
On Tuesday I had classes. I taught the first lesson, and in my between-classes window wrote up an (unposted) entry for this journal. In the middle of my second class, another call.
I was on the train that afternoon.
Waiting in Kyiv
| Friday December 23 |
to J Thought you would appreciate that the movie playing in dentist waiting room is roger rabbit and jessica rabbit is dubbed by a VERY deep-voiced russian man. |
| Saturday December 24 |
to K I'm fine, decided not to start worrying until after my vacation. So far it's working. |
At first I wasn't even sure I'd been evacuated. Medical scheduled me for my mid-service exams, and I spent the morning talking to other volunteers in the office, most on their way back to the States for Christmas. Then I got a call from the Country Director's secretary, scheduling an afternoon meeting for myself and the one volunteer from the first group of evacuees who was still stuck in Kyiv. I assumed it was a courtesy--just keeping me informed. After all, the other volunteer had been evacuated for about 2 weeks by then, and rumor said he might need a site transfer. (That's when you have to move to a new town.) I certainly wasn't in that position!
There was another volunteer in the office who did need a site transfer, although not because of the bird flu. Talking to him that afternoon, he said something like, "Good luck with your meeting! Hopefully you don't need a site transfer, too!"
And suddenly I felt a sinking feeling. What if my meeting wasn't just a courtesy?
Later, I heard another rumor: Peace Corps had just decided not to put new volunteers in certain parts of Crimea--including Chernomorskoe.
By the time the meeting rolled around, I was pretty worried. And it turned out to be warranted. I was given an option. I could take a site transfer if I wanted, or I could wait and see what happened. If I decided to wait, at any time I could change my mind and be given a site transfer.
I was...stunned. I was not expecting this outcome. How could I be? I'd been evacuated only that day--I hadn't been sitting around the office for two weeks like the other volunteer. How could he and I be in the same situation?
"But everything's calm," I said. "No one's talking about it. Are you sure?"
It made no difference. Bird flu had been found in my town. Chernomorskoe had just been added to the list. I could not go back as long as it remained on the list. And, given the unreliable way information is shared in Ukraine, who really knew what was going on there, or how long it would last?
After the meeting, we went out for beers. For the first time in my life I really wanted a beer.
And so I commenced to wait. The next day was Swearing In for Group 29. It was the strangest feeling, sitting in the Teachers' Hall, watching this new group become Peace Corps Volunteers. One year ago I had done the same...and now here I was, a year later, back in a similar situation, not knowing what the future held, or where I'd go next. The ceremony was unendurably long.
It was a lonely, boring Christmas. I was glad to have my vacation to look forward to. I kept my mind off potential site transfers as much as possible. My situation had changed so quickly...it could change back equally as fast, as far as I could tell. Why let it ruin my vacation?
Back to Site
| Tuesday January 10 |
to K In Kyiv. Flying back to simfi tomorrow w dr to meet w various officials & see how bird flu in my town is. So maybe i'll see you? |
| Wednesday January 11 |
to K So our plane gets in at 8:15. We're staying at ukraina hotel. Not sure i'll get to see you. We're leaving super early in the morning for my site. |
| Wednesday January 11 |
to A I can't believe i'm staying in a hotel like this on pc's dime. There's an expensive chocolate on my pillow! And bellhops carried my bag! Super nice bathroom-with a tub! And a little paper on the toilet that says it's been disinfected. |
| Wednesday January 11 |
to A AND FREE CHEAP HOTEL TAPACHKI! [Slippers] |
| Wednesday January 11 |
to A And a mini bar that includes chilled condoms! HAHAHAHA! |
| Thursday January 12 |
to A :-) understand. Saw 2 people. Regional med lady said something like 4 chickens infected, all taken care of now. Vet lady (who i liked way better) said only 2 chickens (only 1 actually in my town) had virus. They & chickens near them killed early december & so far no recurrences. Course no bets longterm tho. |
| Thursday January 12 |
to A Back at brat. [The Bratislava hotel is where volunteers stay when they are in Kyiv on official business.] Leaving monday, although dr is NOT happy that heat in apt is broken and is threatening to keep me here till it's fixed-cuz i might get pneumonia. I on the other hand think it probably won't get fixed until I'm there to insist. So. Hopefully leaving monday. |
| Tuesday January 17 |
to R (to the tune of home on the range, of course.) Home, home on the steppe! Where the sheep & the goats eat the grass. Where seldom is seen...any prominent thing...and the wind blows your hair all a-mess! |
When I got back to Kyiv after my vacation, I met again with the Powers That Be. I could still chose to have a site transfer, but if I was really intent on returning to Chernomorskoe I could travel down there with the Peace Corps doctor and talk to the officials there. If the doctor felt the situation was stable and the officials were honest and open with him, I could go back.
Of course I said I wanted to return to my site.
The next evening we flew down to Simferopol. Amazing to be flying and not taking a train...such luxury! We stayed that night at a hotel in Simferopol--a surprisingly nice hotel. Another volunteer told me later that she heard that this was the hotel where businessmen take their prostitutes. (Which would explain the condoms in the mini bar!) Just the same, I was surprised and impressed.
In the morning we took a taxi to my town. Amazing how much faster the drive is when you're not in a bus! We met first with the woman who is the head of the medical department for the Chernomorskoe region. She assured us that the problem was contained, that only four birds had been sick, and that we needn't worry. Teachers and pupils had been educated about the problem, and flu shots given to about 25% of the population.
Next we met with the assistant head of the veterinary department, and young woman whom I liked a lot. She told us that in fact only one bird had been confirmed to have the virus in Chernomorskoe, and one bird in a village outside of Chernomorskoe. Some 70 birds surrounding the infected birds were killed--this was in mid December--and there and been no new cases since then. She assured us that the situation was under control. She would not, however, give any promises about the future. That made me like her even more. How can anyone guarantee what will happen once the migratory birds come back through?
I had about an hour to stop by my apartment--the doctor was horrified because my heater was broken and it was freezing--and the school to let them know when I'd be back. Then we were back in the taxi, back in Simferopol, and back on a plane to Kyiv. I spent an extremely boring and expensive weekend in Kyiv, then on Monday hopped on a train back to Crimea. On Tuesday I was back in Chernomorskoe. (And my apartment was even warm!)
This is probably a good junction to talk some about how much of a health threat I personally consider the bird flu to be. After all, I'm talking a lot about the inconvenience of it. What it comes down to is that I'm not very worried about my health at all. I think the media are making a bigger deal about bird flu's threat than it currently warrants.
In its current form, bird flu is only nominally dangerous to humans. You can really only get it if you're "frolicking with the chickens," as I put it. And I'm not. The only contact with chickens that I have is through the meat and eggs I infrequently buy. And, if you observe proper sanitary measures--which I do--that's not a threat either. So I'm extremely unlikely to catch bird flu from any birds.
I'm even more unlikely to catch it from any people. There have been no documented cases (to date) of human-to-human transmission, anywhere in the world. It's simply not very contagious. On top of that, the flu shot this year was mandatory for all volunteers. While that doesn't make me immune, it does keep me getting sick with other viruses that would lower my immune system and thereby increase my susceptibility to bird flu. But, even if I were--somehow--to contract avian flu, Peace Corps has already given me a packet of Tamiflu, the prescription medicine being used world wide to (successfully) treat bird flu.
The fear, of course, is that the bird flu will mutate into something easily transmittable from human to human. Because we humans would have little immunity to this new virus, it could take off, creating a pandemic of awful proportions. That's what the media--and many doctors and epidemiologists--are actually worried about: not the bird flu in its current form, but the bird flu in its potential form.
But so far the flu is pretty much a bird thing, and there are a variety of theories about when (it's always a when, not an if) the mutation will happen. After that, the whole picture changes.
For the time being, I also don't feel like I'm in much more danger in Ukraine than I would be anywhere else in the world. This is a disease that's carried by birds. Migratory birds. Really, how can they stop it from circling the globe? So, for now at least, I'm not worried. And believe me: I'm being well looked-after by the Peace Corps. They are constantly monitoring the situation, and reevaluate the position of each volunteer with every change. No, I'm just fine. (Though I do wish I had a TV so I could watch the news.)
The Peace Corps doctor agrees that my town seems safe, although he told me he'd be calling the officials here twice a week (I think that's a bit excessive) to check up on the situation. I am also assured that if at any time I feel unsafe or worried about the situation, all I have to do is ask and I'll be given a site change.
For now, I'm just glad to be back. It's a cold and snowy weekend. Friday was a Snow Day--or maybe I should say Cold Day, since I think the school's closure had more to do with the temperature than with the falling snow. So here I am, catching up with journal writing and other things, debating whether to venture outside and run some errands. I probably won't--I'm enjoying the laziness. There's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. (Maybe it'll be another snow day...)