In da house

This last weekend, I had the pleasure of being invited to three different students' houses for a meal and to meet their families. I've been to a handful of homes by now, and I'm really learning not to take ANY nuances for granted when it comes to these homes. There ARE several rules that remain steady, however, and here they are:

1. EAT. Kooshite means "eat" in the imperative form of Russian, and it's the word most often repeated by Ukrainian mamas and babushkas and even papas. Just obey, and all will be well. While Americans will hold their stomachs and lean back a little to show how full they are, Ukrainians are a little different. They gesture their fullness by indicating a level on their esophagus, kind of like a thermometer. I had to learn this one the hard way, when I was trying to insist that I was VERY full with the American non-verbal, which was completely lost in translation and I was fed another plate of food.

2. Wear the slippers. Every time I walk into a house, no matter how thick my socks, I'm always offered a family member's slippers. Since I have a feet thing and these slippers generally looked well-worn, I'd refuse, but then my hosts never seemed content with my comfort level. Now I look forward to my borrowed tapechkee, as it really is a bit warmer for my feet!

3. Bring something. Cookies, chocolates, candies, it's all good. I haven't been able to figure out WHEN exactly I am to present these gifts, however. Some visits have been for full-on meals, but I don't know this until we are well under-way with the chatting. Other visits have been for tea and butterbrot (open sandwiches) and my gift seemed ill-timed/sized/tasted. I just let it get chalked up to me being the ignorant American.

4. Be prepared for questions. Being asked about what I think of Ukrainian government (a subject best left alone), food, people and the weather is common. I love talking about the food for the absolute shock I can generate when I tell them that we don't have certain dishes in the States. My favorite of these such moments is in discussion of their homemade juice called compote. They make it by stuffing a bunch of fruit into a jar, adding hot water and sugar, and then sealing the jar. They drink it all winter, then make more each summer. Almost every family makes compote, and it's different every time and always tasty. In every home, I have caused my hosts' jaws to drop in amazement when I say we don't have compote where I'm from. "How can you not have compote?" they ask. "Don't you have fruit?" :)

There will be more. Enjoy these for now!