Tomorrow is the first day of the new semester (aka the second first day), so I'm looking back over what I did last semester and thinking about what worked and what didn't. My schedule for the new semester is three classes on Mondays and Thursdays (4:00-9:00pm) and two classes on Tuesdays and Fridays; on those days I have the middle period from 5:30 to 7:30 off. I'm teaching the same level as last semester, so I have a good idea of what I'll do every day, and I know what I need to spend more time going over and what techniques work and what techniques completely bomb. After all, there's nothing like presenting the activity you prepared and just getting back blank stares and the imploring "Мы ничего не поняли" (we didn't understand anything).
While I still have some free time, here is the penultimate installment in the travel notes from my trip to Ukraine. After we left Lviv, we spent another day in Kiev. Our train arrived early in the morning, and we had a night train to Odessa at 10pm, so we had all day to explore the city again. We first headed for the Bulgakov museum, which is located on Andreevski Spusk, one of Kiev's most famous streets. This street winds up a steep hillside, and it is lined with theaters, museums, and art galleries. The Bulgakov museum was interesting, although I have never read The White Guard, the book the museum was based around.
We then headed back to the center of town, and on the main square, we were met by a Ded Moroz--a man dressed up as the Russian version of Santa Claus. It was a total tourist trap, and we should have just walked away, but he was aggressive and friendly, and he eagerly told us about attractions in Kiev and took pictures with us. He started talking to us in English, but we acted like we didn't understand and told him we were from Russia, so he promptly switched to Russian, although he eventually figured out that we weren't Russian. After he was done, he asked us for some money (of course), and he got angry with us when we gave only 40 hryvina--about $5. He demanded more money--to the tune of $30--and we walked away to him yelling at us. I'm mad that I gave him any money.
After that adventure, we went to Kiev's Victory Park. There is a huge Rodina Mat (a monolithic statue depicting the motherly figure symbolic of Russia/the Soviet Union). We walked around the huge park and visited the war museum. We went to a powerful exhibit about the Soviet war in Afghanistan and another exhibit about wars and military actions that the USSR was involved in (these included the missile installations in Cuba--complete with a diagram of what American cities were within striking distance--the Vietnam War, the Korean War, and many other little puppet wars that were part of the whole global struggle of the Cold War).
Seeing an American fighter pilot's uniform in the Korea section aroused anger inside me; that uniform, after all, was worn by one of my countrymen who was shot down by a Chinese or Soviet-made missile. The Vietnam section was pretty small, but I couldn't help thinking that the decorated Soviet military advisers commemorated in the exhibit were there to instruct the Vietnamese on how to better kill Americans. But then a letter that was written by a little Ukrainian kid to his dad, who was soon after killed on a foreign battlefield, really put the whole exhibit in perspective. I reflected on the stupidity of the whole Cold War: These Soviets, just like their American "adversaries," were people with hopes, dreams, loves, hates, and fears, and they were serving their country in a battle that they didn't question against an enemy they didn't understand. And for what?
We spent some more time exploring the city center, got dinner, and caught our train to Odessa later that night. Here are some pictures from our second day in Kiev:
While I still have some free time, here is the penultimate installment in the travel notes from my trip to Ukraine. After we left Lviv, we spent another day in Kiev. Our train arrived early in the morning, and we had a night train to Odessa at 10pm, so we had all day to explore the city again. We first headed for the Bulgakov museum, which is located on Andreevski Spusk, one of Kiev's most famous streets. This street winds up a steep hillside, and it is lined with theaters, museums, and art galleries. The Bulgakov museum was interesting, although I have never read The White Guard, the book the museum was based around.
We then headed back to the center of town, and on the main square, we were met by a Ded Moroz--a man dressed up as the Russian version of Santa Claus. It was a total tourist trap, and we should have just walked away, but he was aggressive and friendly, and he eagerly told us about attractions in Kiev and took pictures with us. He started talking to us in English, but we acted like we didn't understand and told him we were from Russia, so he promptly switched to Russian, although he eventually figured out that we weren't Russian. After he was done, he asked us for some money (of course), and he got angry with us when we gave only 40 hryvina--about $5. He demanded more money--to the tune of $30--and we walked away to him yelling at us. I'm mad that I gave him any money.
After that adventure, we went to Kiev's Victory Park. There is a huge Rodina Mat (a monolithic statue depicting the motherly figure symbolic of Russia/the Soviet Union). We walked around the huge park and visited the war museum. We went to a powerful exhibit about the Soviet war in Afghanistan and another exhibit about wars and military actions that the USSR was involved in (these included the missile installations in Cuba--complete with a diagram of what American cities were within striking distance--the Vietnam War, the Korean War, and many other little puppet wars that were part of the whole global struggle of the Cold War).
Seeing an American fighter pilot's uniform in the Korea section aroused anger inside me; that uniform, after all, was worn by one of my countrymen who was shot down by a Chinese or Soviet-made missile. The Vietnam section was pretty small, but I couldn't help thinking that the decorated Soviet military advisers commemorated in the exhibit were there to instruct the Vietnamese on how to better kill Americans. But then a letter that was written by a little Ukrainian kid to his dad, who was soon after killed on a foreign battlefield, really put the whole exhibit in perspective. I reflected on the stupidity of the whole Cold War: These Soviets, just like their American "adversaries," were people with hopes, dreams, loves, hates, and fears, and they were serving their country in a battle that they didn't question against an enemy they didn't understand. And for what?
We spent some more time exploring the city center, got dinner, and caught our train to Odessa later that night. Here are some pictures from our second day in Kiev:
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