it only seems fitting that my 200th blog post is the day i leave my village. i swear i didn’t actually plan that, just an epic coincidence. it’s the last day in my village and in a few hours i’ll have to say good-bye. i’m not sure it’s all really hit me yet, the fact that i’m actually leaving…maybe it will once my house is empty and i turn in the key? when we drive away? when my friends send me off on my one-way ticket train? i guess i’ll find out…
before i came to ukraine i remember youtubing videos uploaded by peace corps volunteers and wondered what it all would be like. there was one video from a volunteer (from somewhere in south america i think) recording the final drive away from his site. it was only a minute or so long, there wasn’t even any audio besides the sound of wind rushing and only scenes of green blurring past. i’m not sure why it stuck with me so, i guess because i wondered how that guy felt, what he must have been thinking as he left his home for the past two years. i mean, i was emotional when i moved out and drove away of my last college apartment! it will be difficult to say good-bye.
i got a lot of work done yesterday, more cleaning and packing. i fed some food scraps to the chickens once more, had to strategically corral some wandering turkeys back into their pen, took my last bucket bath (WAHOOO!!), and did about 5 loads of laundry by hand. when i described my day to my mom she said “sounds like little house on the prairie!”. and it is. well…minus me blogging later that day, but i’m just a modernized laura ingalls wilder.
i will really miss village life in some ways — the quiet, the simplicity. at this time in my life, i’m definitely ready to be around people my age and be able to leave the house at night to go somewhere or do something, but maybe someday i can implement certain parts of my village back into my life. i don’t think this would include bucket bathing, but certainly growing some of my own food, canning and preserving, and disconnecting from the world time-to-time.
admittedly, i’m slightly afraid to go back to america and its fast pace of life. i’m sure in no time i’ll be longing for simpler not-everyone-is-on-their-smartphone times of my village i’ve come to love. but not everyone in america is like that, so i don’t have to be either. i’ll just have to find the people that aren’t and make friends with them…maybe some neighborhood babushkas or maybe i should just become amish. ; )
a few months ago i started a running list of things i will miss about ukraine and village life. of course there are things i won’t miss, but i didn’t need to write those down. they were just little things that i worried i’d forget about. i don’t know that i’ll share the list yet, maybe once i get back and figure out what i actually miss. but i did want to write a poem, an ode to village life and to my hobbit house– to a place that has really started to feel like home. a place that i’ll be saying good-bye to today.
good-bye village life
(inspired from margret wise brown’s goodnight moon)
in a village of ukraine
there was a hobbit house
and a dog on a chain
and a picture of
a lady gazing in vain
and backyard beets and homegrown meats
and babushkas that cried “eat!”
good-bye house good-bye house
good-bye picture of a lady with her big titties out
good-bye backyard beets and homegrown meats
good-bye flock of hens and pigs in their pens
good-bye millions of stars and good-bye roads with few cars
good-bye wooden doors and good-bye oddly carpeted floors
good-bye scent of swine and good-bye domashnee wine
good-bye bucket bathing and good-bye cats of the night a wailing
good-bye to the dog on a chain
and good-bye to the babushkas that cried “eat!”
good-bye quiet, good-bye lovcavore diet
good-bye greenhouse and good-bye occasional mouse
good-bye to village life and my homey hobbit house