The Good, The Bad and The Amusing--Life in Ukraine

My Russian language skills are not progressing very well although I have been studying and studying. So this week I decided to take the bull by the horns and try to communicate with some of the people in our village. Everyone seems to be getting their gardens ready for planting. I have never had a garden so I decided that this is my big chance. There’s a tractor that is going around the village and plowing different plots. Before the tractor comes a load of manure is delivered either by a horse drawn cart or a dump truck.

Monday, I decided to take my inline skates and get some exercise. While I was doing that I noticed the blue tractor working in a large garden down the street. I returned home, showered, dressed and walked down to where the tractor was plowing. I said a quick prayer for some communication skills and about that time the tractor backed up right in front of me. A youngish woman and another lady about my age were standing there so I introduced myself. After we learned each others names the conversation stopped. I had written my address on a pad of paper so I turned to the young man who was driving the tractor and told him that I was the American from down the road. He nodded as if he already had that one figured out. Then I pointed to the tractor and my address on the pad. I thought he said he would come at three that afternoon. That was Monday. This is Wednesday night. Perhaps he told me three on some other afternoon or next year. Or perhaps he realized that I didn’t have any manure on the garden to work into the soil. Anyway he still has not come.

So today I looked out my window and saw the horse drawn wagon was delivering manure to my neighbor’s garden. I went outside and hailed one of the men who were shoveling it out of the cart. He came over to the fence and I told him I wanted to buy. . .I didn’t know the word so I pointed to the cart. He named a price—it was either 15 or 50 grivens (I get those two words mixed up). I didn’t know how much manure I would get for that amount but I said okay. Soon he and his helper left for more manure. When they came back the next time I was upstairs working and had my camera ready to take a picture of the cart. He motioned me to come down. I did. He kept patting his chest and hips as he talked loudly to me in Russian. His nose was dripping and it was rather comical. I just shrugged my shoulders, told him I didn’t understand but then I began to feel a bit uncomfortable as he went on and on and kept looking at my chest. So I went into the house. Once in the house I began to think about the whole thing and suddenly I got to thinking that perhaps he thought I had propositioned him rather than asked to buy manure. I stayed in the house when the cart returned later to my neighbor’s. No manure was delivered.

I called my husband at work and told him my story. He said I probably shouldn’t try my language skills out again for awhile, that perhaps I should do a little more studying first. Besides he thought I am worth more than even 50 grivens.

I have some seed packets. I have decided that the seeds will stay in the packages. I don’t want to have a garden this year. It’s too difficult and I just don’t know what I might ask for next. Besides by the time the tractor driver decides to come the growing season will probably be over. And from now on I will watch out for drivers of horse drawn carts. Go figure.