Liliana and I were waiting yesterday in front of the bank while Dan withdrew more hrivnas (Ukrainian bills).  I’m sure I looked shocked when a man pointed to the ATM line, indicating, “Are you in line?”  I shook my head and pointed to Dan and said no and thank you.  I think he’s the second person in the entire Ukraine to ask me something so sweet.  Seriously, when I stand in line at the supermarket, I get physically pushed from behind as the person (male or female) tries to get closer to the register.  I feel like saying, “The register will still be here in two minutes.  Calm down, why don’t you?” but of course, I can’t.  Although I would be tempted to, if I could speak a lick of Russian.

As I’ve mentioned before, the people here do not smile, not even when you thank them or hold the door open for them.  Dan and I have talked a lot about this.  We would like to be enlightened on this issue.  Several times when we’re talking to the translators, they’ll suddenly be speaking in hushed tones about “In the Soviet times, such and such happened,” and we’re both so surprised at their tentativeness and guarded behavior that we think there must be something to it.  Our driver was explaining to Dan that “in the Soviet times” most people were without food.  They would stand in line for a bottle of milk, starting at three in the morning, and then the truck would arrive at six with only four bottles of milk for a line of 50 or more.  Imagine a mother who needs milk for her children, but she has no one to watch them while she stands in line.  People had no shoes; they had the same pairs for ages.  There were no supermarkets.  The people who had were few and far between–mostly the high-up government workers.  The people who had nothing were the majority.

Dan was telling me about a scenario in Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago about an official government function where everyone had to cheer for Stalin.  The problem was that no one dared be the first to stop cheering.  They didn’t want to be seen as antagonistic to the cause.  One gentleman finally stopped clapping at the 45 minute mark.  Gratefully, everyone else followed suit.  The next morning, the gentleman was nowhere to be found.

So, maybe this aloofness and meanness (if I can call it that) is borne of suspicion–stemming from residual competition for food or protection from false accusations.  Could this be?  I’m not sure.

All I know is that we have such an abundance in America, that we simply do not understand what we have.  High-speed internet everywhere.  Good public bathrooms most anywhere, and if you haven’t seen the picture of the bathrooms here, take a look at yesterday’s post.  Ample food and provisions.  Opportunities to better yourself–to infinity.  Choices of schools and careers.  Kind people who will probably not write you off if you don’t know the language.

[Side note: it is considered bad or marginal writing to include the word “very” in your writing.]  But I am very, very, very, very, very glad I live in America.  And I’m glad Liliana will have the world at her fingertips.  Whatever she chooses to do, wherever she plans to live and work, whichever hobbies she takes up, she’ll have the resources to do so.  As a contrast, eighty percent of orphanage girls who leave the orphanage at the required age of 16 end up in prostitution.

There is absolutely no excuse for mediocrity if you live in the U.S..