Privet Odessa!

"Man will become better when you show him what he is like."

                                   -Anton Chekov (1860-1904) 

Natalia is one of the program directors for a mediation/restorative justice agency in Odessa, called the Odessa Academy of Mediation, where she consults and advises for staff there who are attempting to employ more restorative justice practices there. Natalia is also a professor with a doctorate degree in law, and chair of the Maritime Law Department at the Odessa Maritime Academy in Odessa. Originally from Belarus, she has lived in Odessa for the past 35 years or so. I can see why, it's beautiful here!

Tetyana, Oleg and I sat down with her over lunch, outside on the patio on a beautiful Summer day where we asked her questions about mediation/restorative justice in Ukraine, how it’s done, the obstacles Ukraine faces in employing this form of justice, and how it could be done better. It was an enlightening conversation where we learned, for instance, that (no big surprise here) the Ukrainian criminal justice system, it’s police, courts and judges have not fully integrated restorative justice approaches (RJ) into their legal system and base most of their policies and practices on retributive, punitive approaches to crime (e.g.,prisons, fines, probation). So, not unlike mediation/restorative justice programming in the U.S., Natalia’s agency works largely to educate in the ways of restorative justice, and it’s advantages over traditional, retributive approaches.  

One of my main goals during my time in Ukraine, then, is to learn from other international actors who work and/or educate in the field of criminal justice and, specifically, to learn how other countries employ principles of restorative justice in various settings, and in the particular context of where they live and work. And, interestingly, I can see from my observations in Ukraine that the that various forms of RJ that are employed outside the U.S. are still centered on the same basic principles that we all adhere to. For example, for juvenile delinquents, whereas Natalia might use a one-on-one, mediation meeting between two boys who have a conflict over a stolen bike (story told by Natalia at our meeting), in America we would send them to “teen court” or something like a “teen justice” program like the one Keyria Rodgers has developed at Millikin University where I teach.

More broadly, these commonalities across countries – not just in approaches to justice - are more evident to me as I travel abroad, something I know many of you have come to realize as well. For example, many Americans think countries like Ukraine are a bit “backwater”, or underdeveloped, (or even “shitholes” according to our last U.S. President whose name will not be uttered here) because they do not appear to live by the same standards and values as America. Sociologists themselves even used to refer to countries like Ukraine as “third world” countries for this reason which, of course, was so wrong-headed and biased that it barely deserves mention here. Of course, our countries have differences, but to consider them as beneath us, or as culturally inferior, only highlights our own arrogance and ignorance as Americans – a charge often levied upon us by some citizens of other countries in similar fashion! Indeed, there are differences between countries that we can all see and be critical of, and some of those criticism have merit; but the prejudicial assumptions about the people living in those countries, whether they be U.S. citizens or citizens of Ukraine, too often become stereotypical caricatures of an entire group of people, which only leads to profoundly incomplete and false beliefs about that country as a whole, often leading to widespread racism and/or bigotry against that group. And the last thing we need in this world is more divisiveness and conflict, whether cultural or physical! Isn’t it better to be open-minded, and to learn from each other, taking the best bits of each others’ countries, their lifestyles, attitudes, values and behaviors, rather than rejecting everything that doesn’t resemble our own familiar lands?

Babushkas selling fruits and veggies in my Kyiv neighborhood (the peaches are SO sweet & tasty, picked that morning!), a whole bag of em costs about $1.50. No GMO fruit here!

So, is America really the best place to be? It certainly is NOT! America may be the wealthiest country in the world but it definitely isn’t the happiest place in the world. Or the healthiest. Or the wisest or best educated. Ukraine has helped me to realize that the best place to be is right here, right now, wherever you are, provided you understand who you really are in relation to where you are - and among all those around you all over the world.

And yet, this is exactly the kind of negative bias I came to Ukraine with my first time here back in 2010, and even the second time I came here in 2013. Fortunately, including throughout this more immersive 3 month sabbatical, I have had my wife and her Ukrainian relatives to keep such biases in check. For it is here in Ukraine where I have evolved as a global human being with a clearer, more picturesque and enlightened worldview. I’ve dropped most of my first-impression stereotypes of the stoic, cold-hearted Russkis that I’ve seen all my life on American television (think, “I must break you!” from Rocky IV :), and I’ve been able to peek past the veiled curtain of such prejudices. And what I can see now is people. Just people trying to survive and to cope with the daily challenges of life that we all must face. I can see them more as brothers and sisters in “the struggle”.

                                          Tetyana getting her shoes repaired at the shoe store

This place. This place where I look out my apartment window and see an old lady picking through trash for items she can repurpose, and see a man on his balcony hanging wet clothes on a makeshift clothesline (remember, no dryers in Ukraine!), where feral dogs and cats roam the city streets, where there are no suburbs or white picket fences, and where I live in cramped quarters with no air conditioning (the average apartment where the majority of people live is about 300-400 sq. ft), and where nobody gets their meals from a drive-thru, and where your electricity and hot water might be shut off for days on end, and where you are likely not to have a television or a microwave. This place is where I see myself best, and where I am my best self.

And that’s because I’m not by myself. I’m with this amazing family, my Ukrainian relatives, who know hardship much better than me, but who will give me the shirt off their back if they feel it will make me - this relative stranger - more comfortable. These are the same people who smile more often than I ever have in my life, and who simply appreciate life as it comes, in good times and bad. These are the people that feed me homemade varenyky, or grill shashlik or make tea from a soviet-era samovar, or who play joyous music with a old-school bandura during Ukrainian Independence Day.

 

And these people and its thousands year old culture , with such a deep history of conquest and oppression, remain steadfastly stoic, but also upbeat and positive about their country’s future even amidst relative poverty and an ongoing simmering war with neighboring Russia where hundreds have died and where they lost the Crimea region (on the Black Sea) to Putin’s annexation of it. So, although Ukraine appears to first-time foreigners as a cold, gray and bleak place, where nobody smiles at you on the city streets (in fact, you’ll be regarded as mentally challenged if you do, no joke!), in close quarters, with family and friends, Ukraine’s true personality emerges and they expose themselves as a genuinely caring people. Not that they don’t have some of the same problems as any other urban locale. They have corruption. They have street crime. But you won’t see gangs, drugs or mass shootings here in any noticeable way. Very few people own guns and, if they do, they aren’t used for these nefarious purposes, almost never. Just check out some of the graffiti on the streets of Kyiv, it’s rather cute by American standards. No gang symbols or territory marking, just innocent tagging by kids who are bored and looking to express themselves. I haven’t yet see any Banksy-esque art, but some of it is pretty artistic and well drawn. I’ll keep searching for such oddities.

Kyiv, by the way, is an absolutely beautiful and modern European city, rivaling Rome or London in its historic architecture, traditions and culture. I’ll have more to say about this city after I spend more quality time downtown, this time not just photographing architecture but meeting the people and experiencing the downtown culture and all these fantastic "Kyivites", hopefully using more of my newly-acquired Russian language skills, still a work in progress 😊 

And this is just one more reason for you to get off your couch, turn off your screens, and go out an immerse yourself in a different culture. The epiphanies that are revealed can only be realized through cultural immersion, in my humble opinion. So immerse yourself! Dive into the deep end of the cultural pool and surprise yourself by overcoming your panicked need to surface more quickly than you need to. It is here, gasping for familiar air, where you will find your true self.

My Deviance class, where I will be teaching 20 Ukrainians about theories of deviance and crime, starts this week so I’ll have more to say about that teaching experience, which I’m really looking forward to (although it’ll be almost entirely on Zoom…fucking Zoom and this goddamn pandemic!). But I met with my Ukrainian counterpart at Kyiv Polytechnic University, Pavlo Kutuev, chair of the sociology department, and got acclimated to their somewhat different academic structure, which is European in nature, so I’m sure I’ll fail miserably but it’ll be a growth experience for me anyway, if not for the students. It’s against the law in Ukraine to speak Russian (technically) so I’ll be teaching only in English, so I’m curious to know how these students feel about being taught by an American, and if it’s a valuable experience for them. I’ll tell you about it next time!

Arriving in Kyiv - first week in Ukraine

 8-16-21

Yesterday is history

Tomorrow is a mystery

Today is a gift

That’s why we call it ‘the present’

                                                        -Eleanor Roosevelt

 Oleg arrived at Kyiv International Airport to pick up his relatives, his sister, Tetyana and brother-in-law, Ken. He is a well-dressed, tall and handsome man, dressed in the style of Summer Ukrainian casual dress, tight shorts and a muscle-bearing shirt, with the seemingly mandatory gold plated chain necklace. At 39 years old, his noticeably younger, pretty and thin girlfriend tags along to assist. Her name is Tatyana, same as my wife’s, so I take to calling my wife Tety, and Oleg’s woman, Tanya, instead of dealing with the constant confusion over who I am addressing, although I don’t have much to say to Tanya because she doesn’t speak any English and is shy around me and not talking directly to me, either. More likely, like me, she doesn’t know what to say and instead remains quiet so as not to be misunderstood or as ignorant (which she certainly isn’t). 

Haven’t you also noticed how shy and reserved you are when in the midst of foreigners when you are on their home turf? In a way, it’s kinda nice to be relieved of the pressure of always having something to say to people, or to sound “smart” to others. Americans like me always need to be heard, so it’s actually quite refreshing to just sit and listen to other people yammer on and on. And when they are speaking a foreign language, you don’t even have to pay attention all the time because you have no idea what they are talking about, giving you extra moments of time to observe the environment around you, to really soak it up and absorb the smaller things in life that typically pass without us even noticing. Those girls on the Riverwalk playing bad Ukrainian disco music too loudly in an effort to gain the attention of that one cute guy over there (he’s not listening). A man giving me the side-eye after noticing my old worn sandals. Those young men playing a form of chaotic basketball by their own rules. That woman in the red dress siting on a rock, eating an apricot while her man stands knee-deep in the Dnieper River flyfishing. The graffiti/tagging in parks that has nothing to do with gangs, turf marking or nicknames, just random shit like this. All this witnessed on a late afternoon stroll with my peeps along the Dnieper Riverwalk, while they all spoke Russian. I would have missed all that.

It’s like clandestine meditation, a discreet moment of mindfulness, which I guess is why most people in these seemingly awkward moments don’t feel particularly stressed about it. Especially nowadays in the U.S., where everyone has strong opinions about everything, and where we feel a need to proclaim these opinions loudly and often, it’s really nice to just sit back sometimes and LISTEN freely to the world around you!

So, the first thing I noticed in this selfless state was Oleg’s ability to focus on our well-being and comfort. Oleg has gone above and beyond for us on this trip, my first and likely last sabbatical. He is acutely aware of our need for respite since he himself has spent a lot of time in foreign countries himself, including several years in Connecticut, Rhode Island and New York City where he got his M.B.A., learning the language and cultural nuances of America. He is fluent in Russian, Ukrainian and English, so he is not just our tour guide while we are here; he has also volunteered to be my translator when I visit some criminal justice (restorative justice, mediation) programs for the interviews I plan to conduct for my research as well as for the Deviance class I’m supposed to teach to Ukrainian undergrads at Kyiv Polytechnic Institute in a few weeks. Oleg has also kicked out the residents of one of his spare apartments he rents out so that we could live there, rent free. So, this accommodation has cost him plenty, not just in terms of cash money, but in his time and energy, which is something I can never fully repay him for.

But I’m not thinking about any of this as we pass through customs after a long, 12 hour flight, our first flight since the pandemic, which made the trip particularly tense for everyone. I’m merely grateful that he is there to help us with our luggage and to drive us to our home for the next few months. When he asks the obligatory question for anyone getting off a long flight, “how was your trip?”, I decide not to tell him how awful and uncomfortable it was wearing a (Covid) mask for the entire duration, the ear strings gouging painful indentations behind both ears, or the fact that the guy sitting directly behind me was coughing up a lung, or the fact that when he wasn’t constantly kicking my seat, he was farting incessantly. And let me just expound on this for a moment - so you can really experience the emotional trauma I endured with this man’s butthole, because the noxious gas released was exceedingly foul, a mixture of sausage and stinky fish (herring or mackerel I supposed), with a side order of rotten curry and ass. So toxic was this smell that I could actually taste what he had for dinner (guessing pizza and/or thai food)! At that moment, I wished he would have coughed the virus into my lungs just so I would lose my sense of smell. In hindsight, I was actually glad I was wearing that mask (note to self: continue wearing a mask on flights in the future, post-pandemic)!

Are you ready to get on a plane again? They say it’s not the destination but the journey, right? But when the journey to your destination sucks a bag of dicks, all you can think of is the destination, which we finally arrived at, Oleg’s apartment and neighborhood in Kyiv, and it already feels like (temporary) home, thanks again to Oleg and his thoughtful preparations for our stay. We have everything we need, we are comfortable, acquainted with the neighborhood and finally able to relax and start settling in. Memories of that awful plane ride have quickly faded, as if it only happened in a dream or, more precisely, a boring, stinky nightmare!

From our apartment window: PIC1 | PIC2 | PIC3

notice the McDonald's?

Other pics from the neighborhood: PIC4 | PIC5 | PIC6

Ukrainian currency looks like this 😊

Traffic is crazy and parking is even more bizarre!

Fresh fruits and vegetables picked daily from local fields are found on nearly every street, sold by babushkas

the peaches were orgasmic, picked that morning

It’s now DAY 4 and Taty, Tanya, Oleg and I are preparing to travel by train to Odessa to visit Taty’s cousins whom I’ve met on a previous trip, and also to hold my first interview with a woman named Natalia who runs this mediation/RJ program, so this seems like a good time to break for now until the next post, which will be on the Black Sea. Taty has set up an (English) tour guide for me while there so I can learn more about Odessa’s rich history, so I’ll have some interesting stories and pics to share next week!

BIRD WATCH: Here’s what a Ukrainian crow looks like, more accurately an “Old World” Hooded Crow, but so far I’ve also seen urban magpies, mallards and gulls (on the river), and the ubiquitous pigeons and house sparrows. Odessa will have much more to offer as far as birds go, and I still need to get to a couple spots around Kyiv (the hydroelectric plant and dam, and nearby parks).

See ya soon, (“Paka”)