Image: Carpathian Mountains - Hobbit, Shauna, and Erin. 1997.

1997. November 30

Erin’s journal.

Last night Vasil came over.  We played guitar and ate the varenicky that he brought with him. Varenicky is one of the traditional foods of Ukraine. It's like potstickers but not fried.  My mom love's Vasil.  He played cards with us and there are two major ways to win my mother's heart.  One is to play cards and the other is to discuss learning and philosophy.  I'm sure Vasil would have obliged in the second if there had been time.  Well the card game we played was spoons.  You know when you get four cards of the same number and then you put your finger on your nose and the last person to put to their finger on their nose loses.  Well he had new rules and it was hilarious.  The person to get four of a kind says a word, any word, and then everyone else has to say a word that starts with the same letter that their word ended with. 

TELEPHONE TRAUMA:  To use the telephone I must go downstairs because we don't have a telephone in our apartment.  We have two friends in the building who have phones.  However, Miraslava's phone only works from 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m.  A pain. Nadia's phone works at all hours, however, for a simple phone call to a friend it is too much to ask.  Hence I am forced to use the phone in the downstairs office.  When I get to the office (no- we don't live in a hotel, but our hostel has an office for security reasons or for questions, who knows why), I must ask to use the telephone - in Ukrainian, moshna telephona?  But, the bad thing about this is that once when Shauna asked, the grumpy lady said ‘NO’.  I have never been denied access to the phone, but I have gone there and it doesn't work and have had to wait several minutes while the ladies fiddle with the cord until a dial tone is obtained. Then I dial - it's not a push button, but a turny thing and when I push on it to turn the dialer the wimpy phone starts slipping and sliding everywhere so I have to put both of my arms inside the little window thing and hold it still.  Then when I hear the dial tone, I pray that my English speaking friend is at home.  If they are home I have to listen very carefully 'cause the line is really dirty and there is lots of static. AND, when I start talking in English the ladies that work in the office laugh at my strange language.  But, oh gosh, if my friend isn’t home… Problems.  I have to first of all establish with the person answering the phone, usually the mother, that my friend is not home.  Then I have to figure out when my friend will be home.