When you come into their home, they will always serve you tea with cakes, cookies, and snacks. Always. The daily tea pot is prepared and at the ready. You are invited to the heart of the home to sit and be present. We were taught as Americans that we needed to refuse 3 times when offered something in Ukraine. If you say, “No, thank you,” one time, that is not enough. You will be offered more food, more tea, with a strong admonishment: “Eat! Eat well!” Never, ever comment in a Ukrainian’s home that you admire something. This is very American: “Oh, I love your such-and-such!” For instance, “I love your table cloth!” And before you know it, Ukrainians will literally gift you the thing you admired. There is no refusing. You will leave the house with their possessions. I am sitting here, today, with the result of one such moment, when I told my dear Svetlana that I was looking for a large mug (Large is very American, and not very Ukrainian.) Svetlana immediately lept up from her table and opened her fancy china cabinet and gifted me this lovely mug. And I could not refuse. Svetlana Gromovaya was my “counterpart” in the Peace Corps. Svetlana means “light”, “shining”, and “blessed”. She was the host country teacher assigned to support me in my Peace Corps teaching role. She took her responsibility to a whole new level. She taught me everything… how to tell if meat is fresh at the market, how to cook everything from scratch, how to “conserve”, how to prepare for water outages, how to read a Ukrainian national curriculum document, how to follow the gas lines to find her house, how to walk quickly in the rain without splashing mud up on the back of your pants (this is an art in and of itself), how to protect yourself from the “spicy flu”… Everything.
I had no hot water in my apartment, and Svetlana would invite me over once a week for a hot bath. It was an enormous luxury to be able to be warm in the depth of Ukrainian winter. She would have the table set with hot food when I emerged, cleaned and dressed, and she would say, “с легким паром” (S lyogkim param), which could be translated literally as “Go with light steam,” or “Enjoy your bath” figuratively, but there really isn’t a translation that holds the same kindness in English. It almost feels in intention like when someone says, “Sleep tight”. It’s a statement, a directive, that is also a blessing, of sorts.
Svetlana’s mother was from Belarus. Her mother’s biological mother had multiple children in Belarus. The biological mother had a brother who was married in Ukraine who did not have any children. So, the biological mother sent her daughter to live in Ukraine with the brother and his wife. She gave her daughter to her brother, who did not have children. Can you imagine such a gift? The gift of a family, of hope, the gift of a future. And I always spoke with Svetlana’s mother and had a difficult time understanding her completely. And I finally said to Svetlana, “I try really hard, but I still sometimes have a difficult time fully understanding your mother.” And Svetlana said, “It’s because she speaks Belarussian.” I was only gifted this story after I knew Svetlana for 10 years.
And Svetlana gave the gift of her time. She would sit with me for hours sorting through the human connections that can and cannot be made with language and culture. I would ask more questions, “Why? Why do you think this way? How do you feel about this?” And she would tell me her thoughts. And one day she said, “I tell you all of this and you ask all of your questions… and then you’re going to go off and do your own thing.” What a gift observation is. And understanding.
So, here is my reflection on the generosity of Ukrainians, as manifested in my friendship with Svetlana and the gift of her spirit. Thank you, Svetlana. Glory be to Ukraine!
