Goodbye to Ukraine

It has been hard for me to write for the past few years, and this post has been no exception. But while I don’t really know why I have had this extended writer’s block, I DO know why this post has been difficult: I just haven’t known what to say. 

What do you say when a major epoch of your life comes to an end? And how can you encapsulate your thoughts when that epoch has lasted the longest, been (arguably) the most significant, and brought you so many conflicting emotions? 

Do you focus on events? Do you recall how it started, how it finished, all the things that happened around you, and how you changed through it all? Is it the range of emotions, the highs and lows that predominate? Do you dwell on the situations that almost broke you or the times that lifted you up? Is it about the challenges you overcame? 

Or is it all about the people? Do you recall the stream of faces who came into your life, some for just a while, others to stay with you to the end? Do the faces bring to mind the stories, the impacts they had on your life, what they did or did not mean to you? Do you wonder why each soul crossed your path and wonder why some meant more than others or why some who you thought would be more significant turned out to be far less? 

I suppose it really is the people who are most important. Everything in life is about people. Our main purpose in life is to find happiness, and while that happiness is indeed to be found within ourselves, there is no greater influence on our ability to find happiness than the people we associate with. 

To the Point 

As the title suggests, this post is about saying goodbye to Ukraine – the place, the feeling, and most importantly the people that have been my life for the past 13 years and then some. 

Ukraine is in my rearview mirror now. I left almost two weeks ago, and I’ve been “transitioning” in Belgium with family before moving on the United States in a few days. Yet Ukraine has not completely left me; I still have online students there and will continue to work with them. And I have friends with whom I hope I will keep in touch and see again somewhere, sometime, somehow. 

Background – A Life of Changes 

Thirteen years is a long time. It’s easily the longest time I have spent in one place (Kharkiv), doing essentially one thing (for work), and keeping company with mostly the same set of people. Until Ukraine, my life had always been about change. I’ve always had a deep need for change. I didn’t truly recognize it until later in life, but it has always driven me and pushed me to the choices I made, whether good or bad. It’s just been who I am.

From the time I was old enough to “fly the coop” my life has been about changes. A short initial stint at university was followed by a quick succession of changes mostly involving the navy: five months of training, a couple of years in Maryland, a year and a half on Guam, a few months out of the service, then back in for a year and a half of training in California and Texas before heading off to Japan. Relationships and friendships came and went; nothing stayed the same for long.

Japan was six years – only half the time of Ukraine – and it was split into two distinct three-year periods in very different places. My Colorado life after the navy was never one long, consistent period. After two and a half years at Colorado State University, it was a string of two-to three-year periods of different work, different places (including two years in Massachusetts), and three distinct circles of friends.

Only my eight and a half years working for MTB Project Management saw any kind of long-term life stability. But that was still far short of my 13 years in Ukraine. And even my career at MTB was broken up by changes: initially focused on mining in Peru, followed by three years on an environmental cleanup project outside of Chicago, and then back to South America and mining again. And during that time, I bought and sold a house in south metro Denver and moved to my dream house in the mountains. Some kind of change was always necessary.

This deeply set need for change brought me to Ukraine, first as a curious visitor in 2006, then as a part-timer in 2007, and finally on a permanent basis in May of 2008. My need for change did not truly diminish, and I certainly wrote enough about it in this blog over the years (Big Change, The Heart is Where?), but circumstances made it harder to just up and leave. And I think I also held on to certain hopes and dreams that kept me in the country longer than I probably should have stayed.

So much of my life in Ukraine, and how the country and I changed, was described in the 2016 post, Ten Years of Ukraine, so I won’t get into all those details here. This is about saying goodbye… finally.

Hard to Say Goodbye

As I mentioned at the beginning, it is very, very difficult to sum up what it has all meant to me. To be honest, a lot of my time in Ukraine was not happy. There were deep disappointments, and I had many moments of severe self-doubt about what I was doing there.

I had left a very good job and material situation in Colorado for what I told myself was a noble notion of a simpler, more personally fulfilling life of teaching and writing. But I wrestled regularly with the question of whether that was really what I had done or if I had just given up on having “goals” at all. I didn’t write, and teaching sometimes felt routine.

It often seemed that all I was doing year after year was just going with the flow: no real purpose, no direction. And for that decade and more, there was almost always the stinging pain of loneliness. But despite all of that, I lacked the energy to make the change that I always recognized I needed.

Of course, there were many positive moments. I couldn’t possibly have survived if all I felt was sadness and self-recrimination. And perhaps those positive moments helped blunt my instinctive need for change, especially in light of my continual doubt about the situation I had put myself in.

The positive moments always revolved around people: students, friends and some colleagues. From the time I started teaching, my students have always been what made it feel worthwhile. Private sessions always felt more like chats with a friend (tea and chocolates included), and indeed some of those students did become close friends as well.

Groups at the IT companies – EPAM, Global Logic, Intetics – almost always raised my energy level. They were never exactly the same: you could do the same conversation topic a dozen times and each session would follow its own path. That always kept it interesting and fun. And the companies offered many opportunities over the years to communicate with students out of the classroom: uniquely themed corporate parties, smaller team parties, and other sessions.

Perhaps the best thing about my years of teaching in Kharkiv were the moments when a student would take the time to thank me for my lessons or tell me that I helped them. There is no better satisfaction than knowing that your efforts are not in vain, that they are appreciated, and that they truly help people. Those were priceless moments.

But it was among my friends, largely students who became friends, that the best times were had. Early on, I became sort of a focal point for them to get together. I hosted many dinner parties over the years: Thanksgiving, chili or fajitas, or just small gatherings to play Dixit or watch movies. I enjoyed doing it partly because it allowed me to enjoy the company of people I really liked, but also because these were sort of unique in our community, and my friends and students always seemed to enjoy them.

For a year or so in the early days I hosted afternoon sessions once or twice a month to discuss the Power of Intention, reinforce positive thinking, try some meditation and, of course, practice English. Those were popular sessions, but they did become a bit tiring for me, so I had to drop them.

Travel from Ukraine

Living in Ukraine afforded me the opportunity to travel that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Western Europe was always a short, affordable plane ride away. And I was even able to enjoy the company of some of my friends on those trips: Portugal and the Azores, Spain, France, northern Italy, Georgia, Turkey. I wish I had done and seen more, but those still left me with great memories. And being so close to Switzerland and Belgium meant that I had a much easier time visiting my daughter and her growing family. I guess I have Ukraine to thank for that.

Special People

As I was working on this post, I kept thinking of a few specific individuals who really had an impact on me. Some of them probably know it, a few others might be surprised. There is a part of me that wants to mention them specifically so that they will know how important they were. But that is better done privately or not at all. Sometimes it is best to assume that they know and don’t need acknowledgement.

But there have been a small handful of individuals who stand out and whom I will never forget. A couple of them can even claim some responsibility for me not actually packing up and leaving those many times I thought about it. They were hard to leave behind. I hope they know who they are and how important they have been in my life. And I hope even more that our paths might yet cross again.

So goodbye to Ukraine, to Kharkiv, and to all the people who participated in my life for the past 13 years. And to those people: thank you! Thank you for being interesting, thank you for (mostly) being good students, thank you for the things you taught me about Ukraine and more. Thank you for the help so many of you gave me so freely when I needed it. Thank you for your amazing kindness and generosity. And in a few cases, thank you for your love.

-------------------------------------