American Journal - September 2014

During my May trip to Switzerland I wrote a blog post that I called my Swiss Journal. It was a continual compilation of observations and thoughts that came to me during that trip and for a short time afterward. That one worked out pretty well, so I figured I might as well do one for my September visit to the USSA.

As with the Swiss Journal, this is not intended to be about where I go or what I do but rather about my insights and opinions about the things I see, the things I experience, the things I feel. And also like the Swiss Journal, I’ll update it periodically during and just after the trip.

So, here goes…

Not Superstitious:  11 September – I am flying today, the 13^th anniversary of the 9-11 attacks in the USSA (well, it was still the USA back then). Knowing that the ragheaded bad guys always want to make a big splash on this day, and knowing too that there is an especially malignant bunch of bad guys operating these days (ISIS, ISSL, or whatever the hell they are calling themselves), it does sort of make me a little apprehensive. Especially considering that I’ll be flying from Germany.

But I assume also that the good guys are fully aware of this and are being extra watchful. Really, this is the assumption you have to have if you want to keep a relatively calm state of mind.

And did I mention that it’s the 13^th anniversary?  Lucky 13… yay! The passengers around me on the flight from Frankfurt to Boston were all joking about it being 9-11 (and the 13^th anniversary). I guess it was a good way to relieve the tension.

I noticed an unusually high level of security at the airport terminals in Kharkiv and Kyiv. They checked bags and had people walk through metal detectors upon entering the terminals. That’s a first.  About five weeks ago I went to the Kharkiv airport to pay for my flights between Kharkiv and Kyiv, and there was no such security at the entrance to the terminal. Of course, given the situation just a few hundred kilometers to the east, it’s not really surprising.

Crickets:  11 September – My cousin’s fiancé picked me up at the airport, and when we got to her home in southeastern Massachusetts, the first thing I noticed when I got out of the car was the sound of crickets (and assorted other wetland noisemakers). It’s a summertime sound that I grew up with, but have rarely heard since my childhood. We don’t have that kind of environment in Colorado, and there certainly is no chance to hear anything like that in a city like Kharkiv.

That sound immediately brought back childhood memories of warm summer nights with the crickets chirping and frogs croaking. We used to chase fireflies around our backyards. I associate a sense of innocent happiness with those familiar little critter noises – a little boy’s feeling of outdoor adventure and even a notion of comfort and security. I miss those sounds, and those days.

A follow-up: 15 September – Well, there are some crickets in Colorado after all. I can hear them tonight through the open window in my daughter’s house; it’s a neighborhood with more trees and shrubbery, so a little more moist. But the sound is not as deep and symphonic as near my cousin’s house. I suspect there were some little frogs and things adding to the chorus there.

A Bit of a Shock:  13 September – The opposite of childhood, of course, are the last days of life in very old age. On Saturday morning my cousin, her fiancé and I went to a nursing home to visit two people. One was Mike’s mother, who we were not able to see. The other was Shirley, who is my godmother and my cousin’s aunt from the other side of the family. She is the last surviving member of that generation in our family.

As we walked into the main greeting area, there were a number of residents sitting around in wheelchairs – all of them women. The first two on my right were sitting almost comatose, passed out with their mouths wide open. Another was just staring off into space and muttering things I could not understand. On the other side was a very old lady who was completely slumped over in her chair asleep. Another woman was more alert than the others, but her right arm and shoulder were convulsing constantly.

Note: This photo and the one below are NOT from the nursing home I visited; they are generic photos from the Internet. I would never take photos of people in such a place.

Then there was Shirley. She was partially asleep and her eyes were sort of stuck shut. A nurse tried to wipe her eyes so that she could open them. We moved Shirley to a sitting area so that we could talk with her, but she only barely recognized us. I don’t think she recognized me at all, except to vaguely remember my mother’s name. Then she fell asleep again. She was very weak.

And she was barely recognizable to me. Though I could still see familiar features in her face, age had changed so much from the woman I had known so long ago. She was gaunt and small, and her face seemed mostly twisted in pain. But I wasn’t sure if the pain was physical or something else. Perhaps both.

I started this section by saying that it was a shock – and it was. First of all, I remembered how Shirley was when I was a kid and even later. She was feisty and full of life, a wiseass even. She was blunt and never afraid to say what she thought, and she was fun. Now, in addition to her advanced age, she has Parkinson’s disease. She is a shell of the vibrant person she was. Her physical deterioration is apparent, and I suspect that she has lost a lot in her mind as well. It was terribly sad.

And seeing the others there was equally depressing. I am sure that all of them, in their day, were quite lively women who are now reduced to either lying in bed or sitting in wheel chairs, probably with half or more of their memories gone, and – to be blunt – just waiting to die.

We all become old eventually, and we all die. But to be “dead” in every way that matters is no way to live. And to be stuck in a physical body that is only marginally functioning and with a mind that is nearly gone… is no way to live. I had resolved long ago that I will never allow myself to merely “exist” in such a state, and this visit only strengthened that resolve.

America? Where?:  13 September – Another disconcerting experience was a visit to a factory outlet shopping mall. If I didn’t know better, I would have wondered just what country I was in. No more than half of the people I saw were Americans; the rest were immigrants. There was a variety of languages being spoken, Spanish being the most prominent. Immediately, I wondered how many of the people I saw there were in the country legally.

To make matters worse, the mall announcements were made in English and Spanish. I might have (grudgingly) expected that in California, Texas or someplace else in the Southwest. But in Massachusetts? I felt like I was the foreigner. In my own country, I felt like an outsider. More and more it seems to me that this is how America is getting to be.

I don’t want to get into a long diatribe about illegal aliens, the American government’s asinine policies, and such. I absolutely support LEGAL immigration and believe the USSA should do MORE to help bright and potentially productive people from places like Eastern Europe come and make America a better and stronger place. But the government seems instead to put up barriers to those who want to come legally while opening the floodgates to the illegals. It disgusts me.

I realized at that moment that I felt more comfortable in Kharkiv than in the state where I was born and grew up… and I did not like the feeling one bit. With this kind of uncontrolled illegal immigration and the totally worthless politicians running the country, I fear that the United States might truly be lost.

New Toothbrush:  14 September – I love the feel of a new toothbrush. When the bristles are straight and strong, and haven’t yet been bent, it feels like it’s really doing its job. Sometimes the new toothbrush hurts some sensitive areas a bit, but that’s a good thing. It lets you know that you haven’t given that spot enough attention. I always get a new toothbrush to begin a trip.

Having Fun: 15 September – On the other hand, excepting the nursing home and mall experiences, the first few days of this trip (in New England) have been fun. My cousins are the only family I have left except for my own daughters and their families. And it’s always nice to spend a few days connecting with them, recollecting our childhood and other memories, and just bonding.

One of the best things was getting away to the seaside. We went to a beach area that I frequented in my teens (oh, the stories I could tell), and the next day we all got together to go sailing out of Newport, RI. Along the way we had several eventful dinners, including one at my cousin Janet’s home where I got to hang out with a bunch of the nicest cats you’d ever hope to meet.

I’m in the Boston airport now, writing this to kill time as I prepare to fly to Denver for phase two of this visit. But phase one has been really nice: a mix of memories, family bonding, and just remembering where it all started. That’s a good thing for any person to do.

Going Mac: 17 September – One of my goals for this trip was to buy a new notebook computer. I envisioned getting a moderately priced HP or ASUS that runs Windows 8.1 and perhaps can function as a tablet as well as a notebook. My price range was up to $700, perhaps up to $800 for something perfect. But that was my limit.

So much for limits.

After talking with many people (including many who are disciples of the Macintosh computing religion) and looking at more Internet descriptions and reviews than I can imagine, I had a few machines in mind, but I was intrigued by the MacBooks. Despite that intrigue, however, I was definitely put off by the price. There was no way I was going to go Mac.

Yesterday, I bought my new machine. I really could not decide on a PC that I liked, and the few that really seemed to suit me were not all that much less than a MacBook Air. I took a good look at the Air in the store and decided to go for it.  

So... now I have crossed over. I've stepped out of my Microsoft box. I am not sure if I have left the "dark side" or have entered it, but after my first few hours of using the new machine, I suspect I have at least entered a new dimension (and possibly a lighter one).

Anyway, I am now a Mac guy. It's almost like entering a new phase of life.

Therapy on Four Wheels: 19 September – I love to drive. I have always loved to drive. But in Ukraine I don't drive. No car, no real need, and at least half of the drivers on Kharkiv's roads are certifiably insane. 

But I really miss driving. That's why one of the things I look forward to the most when I come to the USSA is renting a car and experiencing the joy of motoring along good highways, country roads... well, anywhere. It's theraputic to sit behind the wheel, listen to good music, feel the wheels glide along the pavement, watch the scenery go by, and think, think, think. I love it.

And although there are bad drivers everywhere, I really appreciate how good American drivers are overall. We tend to follow road rules better than almost anyplace else on the globe. All of my students who have visited the USSA on business trips and have had a chance to try driving here have come back speaking in astonishment at how much nicer it was to drive here.  I agree.

I picked up my Colorado rental car on Tuesday, and I've already put almost 300 miles on it. Part of that was my drive from the Boulder area down to Denver today. After a meeting in Denver, I went down to Castle Rock to visit the factory outlet shops, and then back up to the south metro area to my friends' house. 

Tomorrow morning, I have to drive back up to the opposite side of the metro area to meet my daughter for an outing, then I'll roll back to my friend's house on the southeast side. And then next week I get to motor up into the mountains for a few days at a resort. The only thing better than driving is driving in the mountains.

Then it will be back to Ukraine. Back to buses, subways and taxis. But I'll dream about the next time I'll be getting some four-wheel therapy.

Follow-up - Driving at Night:  When LauraLeigh, Sorin and I went up to Steamboat, we got a late start because of a commitment Laura had. It was close to 8 p.m. when we got started, so we did the drive in the dark. This was sort of a hassle along the busy parts of I-70 from the metro area up to the Eisenhower Tunnel, but it was actually nice from Silverthorne all the way into Steamboat.

I like driving at night - when there's not much traffic. There is s different feeling about it that I enjoy. But you have to be cautious driving on Colorado's mountain roads in the dark, especially the secondary highways where speeds are often 55 to 65 mph on two-lane roads. The danger is wild animals suddenly appearing in the road, especially large ones like deer or elk. Besides killing an animal, there is the potential for an accident that can seriously injure or kill the occupants of the car.

We drove carefully and very alertly. We saw one dead deer by the side of the road and a number of smaller critters like raccoons that had been pretty much smushed. We also caught glimpes of a few deer or elk standing off the side of the road, but nothing jumped in front of us. 

There are a lot of challenges to night driving in Colorado. If you're not watching out for animals in the warmer months, you might be navigating heavy snow or ice in the winter. Still, night driving is still something I enjoy doing... occasionally. 

House Party: 21 September – For the past couple of days I've been staying with some friends in an upscale neighborhood in a suburb of Denver. They have a beautiful home in a community filled with beautiful homes and matching landscaping. In the evening yesterday, we all went next door to a neighbor's home for a party. They were saying farewell to another neighbor family who are moving to Sweden.

The neighbor's home is almost as nice as my friends' place, and is often the case with parties in such homes there was a lot of attention to detail: food, drinks, decorations (everything in Swedish colors of blue and yellow), etc. These homes are quite spacious, so there was plenty of room for people to sit and eat outside or inside, mingle and talk, etc. There were probably about 20 adults and a bunch of kids (and a couple of dogs).

At one point, I got to thinking about how any of my Ukrainian friends might perceive such a party. Back in Kharkiv, almost all of us live in apartments, and there's not much space for such entertaining. Hosting such parties is not so common, and you usually have to maneuver around tight spaces. I've hosted a few parties at my place, but the maximum amount of people I can accommodate comfortably is probably 10 or 12.

Big house parties are pretty normal in the USSA, and although it can be a lot of work organizing and cleaning up, it's still fun. I used to do St. Patrick's Day parties at my big house south of Denver, and I hosted a fun barbecue and camping weekend at my mountain home once. 

But such parties are not so common in Ukraine. Get-togethers at someone's home are smaller and more intimate, which is nice in its own way. But I think any of my Ukrainian friends would find one of these American house parties pretty amazing.

A Bit of Looking Back: 22 September – This past weekend has been largely about memories. I stayed with some good friends on the southeast side of Denver, and we chatted a lot about days past when we were younger and thinner. On Sunday afternoon we had a little get-together with others from our old group who all got to know each other at a local health club. Naturally, we recalled stories from the past - the good, the bad, the funny and the not so funny.

We tried to recall the name of the bar we often frequented after we were done working out. Yes, that's right... we worked out, then went across the parking lot to eat and drink. And we liked it. Finally someone remembered the name of the place, but it took some time. 

We talked about who dated who (there were several weddings that resulted), parties we had (including Halloween costumes), and the girl we all knew who wound up in prison. It was nice to remember and to share the memories with each other.

Today I had lunch with a former colleague from my project management days. Again, we recalled things that happened when we worked together and what many of our other colleagues have been doing since we all worked together. Some of the memories were not so great, but most were fond. Even the things that were very tough at the time, like an overly politicized environmental project we did near Chicago, are now enjoyable to remember and talk about.

After that lunch, I decided to take a drive up into the mountains to visit the little hamlet I lived in from 2004 to 2007 and take a look at my former house. The drive across the Denver metro and up the canyon brought back memories of my daily commute. And it was fun to see all the old signs, hills, unique buildings and other features that were a daily part of my life in those days.

When I turned off the main highway onto the county road, it brought everything even more to life. As always, I had to slow down to 20 miles per hour going past the little elementary school and, sure enough, there was a county sheriff's vehicle checking people's speeds. Then I got to Forest Drive, the dirt road that led to the house.

I could not go to the house, of course... it belongs to someone else now. So I just drove by and looked down from the road. It really had not changed much, but it looked a bit run down, and that made me a little sad. I really loved that place.

I drove past the house, then parked the car in a little turnout at the end of the road. I turned off the engine, got out of the car, and just listened. As always, it was silent except for the soft whisper of the breeze blowing through the pines and aspens, and the chirping of a few birds. It was one of the most beautiful sounds I know, and - again - it brought back memories of how that was part of my daily life when I called that place home.

Eventually, it was time to get back in the car and leave. I drove past the house one more time, then made my way down to the "center" of Bailey, which consists of just a handful of shops and cafes. I went into a place called the Knotty Pine, which had been my favorite place to go for coffee and conversation with the locals when I too was a local. I chatted a bit with the owner, bought a couple of souvenirs, and then made my way back to the city.

Some memories, like the ones with my friends, are just that: memories. They are sweet to recall, but they can never again be recaptured or repeated. But others, like my former home, are more than that. They are reminders of a lifestyle that I loved and that I certainly can have again if I want.

That's the kind of memory that gives you something to think about for the future.

Carry That Weight:  23 September:  One of the biggest hassles of flying these days is keeping your bags under the airline weight limits. It didn't used to be such a problem; the airlines were not so anal about the number and weight of your bags. But now you have to keep your checked bags under 50 pounds (23 kilos) or else you have to pay a penalty. And you only get to check one free bag; United charges $100 for a second bag!

On this trip I have bought new clothes (including a winter coat), a unique bottle of champagne, a bunch of books (they are heavy) and some gifts. I still have some more gifts to buy, but I probably won't add an awful lot more weight. 

I was very concerned about the weight of the books and decided to send them to myself in Kharkiv via FedEx. But the cost to send a box of books was more than $350!  So I promptly canceled that idea. After that, I decided that I needed to do a practice packing to see how much weight I really have and how I can distribute it between my checked bag and my carry-on.

I had sort of been anticipating this problem, so last week I bought some new luggage: a matching set of a 29-inch Samsonite suitcase and a 20-inch carry-on. Today I packed up everything I could find, except for what I was wearing, to see whether or not I need to panic. I have a very nice, precise, lightweight scale especially made for weighing suitcases. To my happy surprise, I found that the big one weighed in at less than 45 pounds, while the carry-on was about 29. This means that I'll be able to shift a few things to the big one and still be under the 50-pound limit.

All's well that ends well, but I still don't appreciate the hassle of having to be so careful with baggage weight.

Rocky Mountain Too High:  24 September:  No, this is NOT about Colorado's position as the preeminent legal marijuana place in the world. It's about altitude... and its effects on the human body.

Since I got to Colorado, I've felt lethargic and sluggish. And occasionally, I've had just a general "blah" feeling inside - not sick, exactly, but just not feeling right. I thought that maybe it had something to do with what I was eating. But today it came to me that the problem probably has more to do with the altitude.

I have been living in Kharkiv, Ukraine, since May of 2008. Kharkiv is only about 500 feet (152 meters) above sea level. So more than eight years, I have been acclimated to what pretty much amounts to sea level.

And At the beginning of my USSA trip, I visited my cousins in Taunton, Massachusetts, which sits at only 30 feet, or nine meters, above sea level. I spent four days there and really didn't feel bad. But the problems hit me after I got to Colorado. This is really a shock!

Altitude used to be NO problem for me. Denver is renowned as the Mile-High City because it is exactly one mile (5,280 feet / 1,600 meters) above sea level. For most of my life in Colorado (which has been most of my life), I've either lived in the Denver metro area or in Fort Collins, which is at about the same altitude. But I used to go camping and bike riding in the mountains all the time, at much higher altitudes, and I never felt any ill effects.

From 2004 to 2007, I lived at an elevation of almost 9,000 feet (2,743 meters), and I always felt fine.

Since yesterday, I have been in Steamboat Springs, a resort town in the northwestern mountains that sits at about 6,700 feet (2,052 meters) above sea level. Today, I noticed that I felt worse than I did down in the Boulder area (about the same elevation as Denver). I felt really winded walking around and had no energy. After lunch I just wanted to sleep. 

The realization that I seem to have lost my acclimation to altitude is more than a little disconcerting. I am a Colorado boy, a mountain man. Along with my Irish heritage, being a Coloradan is central to my identity. The idea that I would have trouble dealing with altitude is too much to take.

If I want to get my high-country fortitude back, it's going to take time living in the hills again. And it also is going to take losing weight and improving my circulation. Being comfortable at altitude is all about your body being able to supply your muscles and organs with sufficient oxygen. At the moment, I seem to be a little oxygen deficient.

That needs to change!


Catching Up:  1 October:  I have not had much time or inclination to add to this post and, ultimately, finish it.  I've been back in Kharkiv already for several days, and I've devoted this time to resting and getting ready for the work ahead. But the return trip was more tiring than I expected, and I've been exhausted.  My last days in the USSA were pretty much go-go without much time to stop and write.  So, I'll try to do as much to catch up and finish this as I can today:


Steamboat Springs:  Steamboat is truly one of Colorado's gems. As one of the state's very best ski resorts, it's a busy place in the winter, to be sure. But there is a lot to do in the other months as well. And it is a beautiful place in many ways.

The town itself is small, quaint and very Western. Even if you stay in a condo close to the center or the ski mountain (which we did), you still sense a big difference from bigger cities like Denver or Boulder. It's more relaxed and laid-back, life moves a little slower, and the people seem more real. 

And it's closer to nature, as evidenced by a few signs:

While we were there, the weather was perfect: clear blue skies each day, with temperatures in the mid-to upper 80s F (about 25 to 28 C) during the day, and comfortably cool at night. It was late September, and at that altitude, the aspens were already changing to their autumn gold (more on that later). 

We took a drive away from the town, toward an area called Oak Creek, and it was just gorgeous. I could imagine living there... or anywhere in the Yampa valley. After having visited my old house in Bailey a few days earlier and then spending time in the Steamboat area, I felt a real urge to come back to the mountains and just stay there.

The highlight of the visit to Steamboat, however, was spending an afternoon at the Strawberry Park hot springs. There are other hot springs resorts in Steamboat, including a popular one in the downtown area. But for my money, Strawberry Park is hard to beat. It is fed by natural geothermal water from deep under the earth, and they have created a garden spot with multiple pools of differing temperatures, surrounded by the unmatched beauty of Colorado's nature.

You can just relax in one of the pools, letting the warmth of the water seep into your muscles, bones and joints.  It's like being in a huge hot tub without the bubbles and with naturally warmed water.  You can sit or swim around in the hottest pool, or move to the adjacent pool where the water is cooled just a bit by water from the river, but still quite warm.  And there are some other spots where the water is a bit less warm still.  

Finally, there is a pool that is fed directly by the river and which is quite cool, excpet for a few pockets of warm water that flow into it from the warm pool. It's nice to spend some time in the hot pool, then go and swim around a bit in the cool water.  Making this hot-cold cycle several times is especially great and can keep you from getting overheated.

The day we went, the weather was quite warm with direct sunlight. I actually got a bit of a sunburn. I would love to come in the winter when the air is freezing cold and steam rises off the warm waters. That's not in the cards for next winter, I think, but perhaps in a couple of years.

In the shot below, my daughter, LauraLeigh, and her son, Sorin, are enjoying a smaller pool with a moderate temperature:

I had been there before, some years ago, but it was even better this time. And I know that I will be back.


Fire in the Mountains:  Not really... but the blazing yellows and oranges of the changing aspens sometimes make it seem that way. In the Colorado mountains, the forests are mostly evergreen (pines and firs), and the only significant deciduous trees are the aspens. They usually grow in stands, or groves, among the evergreens. When you see them on the side of a mountain in the summer, it can be difficult to pick out the aspens from the evergreens.

But in the autumn, the aspens turn gold. Sometimes they even turn a brilliant orange. When you look at a mountain in the autumn, the stands of aspens can be so brilliant that it can look like a fire is blazing - but without any smoke.

In and around Steamboat, the aspens were in full fall colors. But the most striking colors were in the hills along the highway leading out of Steamboat over Rabbit Ears pass. I took some photos, but they don't do justice to the view that one gets in person. It was absolutely stunning.

Our entire drive back from Steamboat was punctuated by mile after mile amazing autumn views. Who could ask for more?


The Evil Empire of the Air:  I booked my flights for this trip through United Airlines. Some of the flights were on United's partner, Lufthansa, but the majority were on United itself. 

I regret this.

On my last trip, I used United because they had merged with Continental, so all my frequent flyer miles had moved into the United system together with some United miles I still had. I decided to use up as many miles as possible by flying business class. My plan was then to start using KLM as my preferred airline and build up new miles with them.

But I was not able to get good flights or prices for this trip via KLM, and I got better results from United. That was where the good results ended.

United Airlines is truly the "evil empire" of the airline industry. If Darth Vader was an airline, he would be United. If Barack Obama was an airline, he would be United. Well, actually he would be something called "Redistributive Airlines" where, in addition to paying exorbitant prices for seats in first or business class, you would ALSO have to pay extra for any service, in order to fund giving those same services to other people for free. But that's a story for another time. 

United's swallowing up of Continental Airlines - an airline I really liked - was very sad for many reasons. One reason was that Continental provided much better service, and I can see now that everything has gone the United way: downhill. Also, Continental was in a partnership group with KLM and Air France, two airlines on which I had had good experiences.

The one good thing about United was the organization and efficiency of its Web site (which was the old Continental site). Not much else about United is good. It is the most money-grubbing of the big airlines. They charge for just about everything imaginable. If you want a seat where your knees are not crushed, you have to pay extra. If you want to board early enough to find room for your carry-on, you have to pay extra. If you want to eat something - even on a transcontinental flight - you have to pay extra.

Fortunately, they have not yet levied additional charges for using the toilets.

The most galling thing was that they charge for alcoholic drinks on international flights. I have never seen this before. On my Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to Boston, the wine was free. But on the United flight from Washington to Frankfurt, it was about $8 for a little bottle. I sorely wanted a little wine to help me sleep on the flight from Washington to Frankfurt, but not at that price.

And to make matters worse, the flight attendants were very unfriendly (and United advertises the "friendly skies"). They clearly were just "doing a job" and not in the business of customer service.

On board, Lufthansa is much, much better. But Lufthansa has its downside too. Its Web site doesn't work well, and their telephone booking agents are rude. I had problems with checking in for the Lufthansa portions of my trip.

Frankly, after enduring long hours in cramped and uncomfortable seats, I reallly do not care if I ever fly again. At the moment, I am so sick and tired of air travel, that it's about the last thing I want to do. I like to travel and see new places, but I do not want to board an airplane again for a long time.


Returning to Kharkiv:  Sadly, returning to Kharkiv was a real downer. I think I felt worse this time than any time before. I've taken two other vacation trips to the USSA since I started living here: one in the summer of 2011 and another in January of 2013. I've also been to Switzerland three times.

Returning to Kharkiv after my other two long trips to America, I actually felt like I was coming home. I felt like I had something to look forward to. But this time, it felt cold and empty to return. I guess in the past I felt like I was coming back to something at least as good as what I left behind in the USSA, but this time I felt like I was not coming back to anything special at all... just a tiny, empty apartment.

In fact, my first observation when I went into my apartment was how small it is; I don't think that realization had hit me so hard before. But after several weeks in houses and a spacious condo, my apartment does indeed seem tiny.

I've thought about why this return was so different, and it hit me that it's because in the past, I felt that I had someone for whom my return mattered. Around those two trips, there was someone who seemed to care a lot that I return, and that gave me a reason to feel good about coming back. Returning at the end of the summer 2011 trip especially, I remeber opening my door and finding a "Welcome Home" sign, as well as a fresh pot of food on the stove. It made me feel really glad to have come "home."

It gave me a good feeling about returning from those trips. It mattered to someone, in a personal way, that I came back, and so I mattered. And that was important.

But this time, there was no one. I have friends here, of course, and some very good ones. But that warm feeling that someone was awaiting my return in a special and personal way was gone. And compared to what I left behind, coming back just didn't have any satisfaction. Things have certainly changed.

I guess this leads into my final thoughts about the trip and what it probably means for the future. That will have to be the last installment of this post.


Final Thoughts:  Throughout the trip (as I have done in the past) I tried to put my observations and feelings in perspective and figure out what the future holds. For a long time, I have thought about how much longer I should stay in Ukraine, whether it continues to make sense for me to be here, and whether the time has come to take a different path.

Often, I think that I stay here only because this is where I am. It seems that I just keep on keeping on because I don't want to make a change, to leave what has become familiar and take the risk of venturing into new territory (even if that "new" territory is really old territory). It is sort of an unusual attitude for me, as I have always been willing to go to different places and try new things. Coming to Ukraine in the first place is a great example of that.

Other times, when I analyze the situation, it seems that it's right for me to be here. I argue (to myself) that I have a unique niche here (teaching English) and that it's the right thing at the right time. I question what else I could do, especially in Obama's USSA. And I know that I don't want to do low-paying work in a high-cost-of-living environment, and have to live in a low quality of life as a result.  But maybe that's just selling myself short.

So now my thoughts are more in tune with the notion that there has to be something good for me back there, and I just have to have the drive and ingenuity to find it. 

My empty feeling upon returning to Kharkiv also was very telling. I really did enjoy each day I spent with family and friends. I especially enjoyed the time I spent with my daughter and her family, just as I always really enjoy the times I have spent with my other daughter and her family in Switzerland. That's important, and it really contrasted with how I felt when I returned.

So, there is a lot to think about. But it is becoming pretty clear to me now that I need to start preparing to make a change. My life in Ukraine seems to have pretty much run its course, and it's time for someting else. I need to replenish my cash reserves, of course... I did spend more than I planned on this trip. But by next spring or summer, if all goes well, I should be ready to make a new leap.

And I think what I have learned from this trip is that it is, in fact, about time to make that new leap. 

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On Being an Expatriate - Part 2: Some Cons

In my previous post about being an expatriate (expat), I discussed what an expat is and why some people choose such a life. I also got into some aspects of my own situation. The reasons why people become expats are interesting, of course, but another interesting aspect is to consider the pros and cons of living an expat life.

There are things that you expect to be good about it (or at least hope will be good), and these are the reasons you do it. And there are things you might understand from the outset will be difficult. But there are also things you discover along the way, things you never considered, that turn out to be either good or bad. Often, the judgment of whether it is a good or bad thing depends on the individual; what I consider a cool surprise, someone else might see as hardship.

So, some of my next posts will discuss the pros and cons of expat life as I have experienced it. I will try not to make it the “good and bad of Ukraine” – that will be a different post. What I want to look at here is what I have found to be good or bad about living like an expat, but I suspect there will be some necessary correlation with the pros and cons of Ukraine itself.

This first post will discuss some of the cons; next time I will focus on some of the pros. But neither post will be all-encompassing. I’ll return to the topic from time to time with more additions to the list on both sides.

So… here are a few of the cons:

Language difficulties:  This is anticipated, of course. Unless you spend months or years taking language courses before you go, you have to expect to have problems communicating when you drop yourself into a country with a completely different language. It’s been no different for me, except that, to be honest, I’ve not made enough effort myself to become fluent.

From the beginning, I had a grasp of the basics of Russian, and in those days before I made the permanent move, I did work on it. And I was not totally lost in the beginning, but it was hard. Understanding what others said was the hardest thing, especially when many people speak a dialect called Surzhik, which is sort of a combination of Russian and Ukrainian. For those who are unaware, Kharkiv is mostly a Russian-speaking city, as are most cities in eastern Ukraine.

After almost six years, my Russian is still embarrassingly poor. And my Ukrainian is nonexistent. But I am able to manage most things I need to deal with on a daily basis. I have no problem shopping, ordering taxis and dealing with other daily matters.

And I can communicate pretty well with the guys at the physical therapy clinic I go to twice a week. I’ve been learning more Russian, and they’ve been learning some English. Still, my ability to communicate on a more complex level is very poor, and this makes often life more difficult.

One of the reasons that I’ve learned slowly is that I am immersed in English almost constantly. My work is in English. My friends all speak English well, and they WANT to speak English with me; I represent a rare opportunity to practice with a native speaker. Plus, my friends are all intelligent, interesting people who like to have intelligent, interesting conversations. I excel at that in English, all modesty aside, but my Russian is on too low a level for anything but the simplest kinds of discussions.

So, I speak English a lot, and I practice Russian quite rarely. It seems ironic that my Russian should be so poor after living for so long in a Russian-speaking city, but there it is. I am actually quite ashamed of this.

But language difficulties are an issue for anyone who chooses to live in a different country with a different language. Some people learn faster than others. Maybe I’m just too old to fully acquire another language.

Having to Depend on Others:  Not completely, of course, but too much for my liking. It’s closely related to the language issue, but also involves having to navigate the nuances of another culture. In many cases, you just can’t do it successfully by yourself (at least not without it costing you a lot more money).

Perhaps the biggest example for me is with medical treatment. There are several layers of clinics and hospitals in Ukraine. Most people have to deal with the “free” state medical system which is not really free. The care is usually substandard, and there can be long waits. And if you can’t pay at all, you are in trouble. People usually have to supply their own supplies and pay doctors something directly to get reasonable care.

Pay attention, America – this is how socialized medicine works in reality!

But there are private clinics that operate much more like clinics in the USSA (though still not exactly). The prices are higher, but the quality and attention are far better. When I have needed to see a doctor, I have gone to such a clinic. The problem for me, however, has been that the vocabulary associated with visiting a doctor and getting explanations of the diagnosis and prescribed treatment is far more complex than I can handle, even today.

So I have always had to find someone to go to the doctor with me – someone who has time to spend helping me and whom I feel comfortable sharing my medical problems and other more personal stuff with. Someone I don’t feel squeamish taking off my shirt (or more) in front of. This has not always been easy.

There have been times when I’ve been able to find someone to help; during my first few years, I had a several people who worked with me in the company I was trying to establish, and one or another was usually available when I needed such help. Then for a few years, I had a very close person who was always ready to help. But that ended last year. Last summer, one of my private students was between jobs and had some time on her hands, and she was glad to help me with some visits for basic checkups and especially for the process of getting an MRI on my back. She was a Godsend!

But since then, there really has been no one who I have felt I could impose upon for the time required for this. Everyone has their work to do, along with their other life responsibilities and needs. So I prefer not to impose.

It’s my problem, and I ought to be able to deal with it on my own. After all, in the USSA, I would just jump in my truck, drive to the clinic and get my checkup, treatment, or whatever I needed – and I would not need anyone else. But here it just is not that simple. And because there has been no one to help, I’ve put off doctor visits. That, really, is not a good thing.

Another example is dealing with government agencies. On several occasions, I have had to deal with Ukrainian immigration authorities and the bureaucracy involved in getting permission to stay here. Again, I had to have a friend help me with it, not only due to language, but also because there are subtleties of dealing with these people – often involving a bit of bribery – that just don’t exist in American culture. 

But the problem with all of this runs deeper than just simple inconvenience. It’s an issue of feeling independent, of being able to take care of myself, of being a man. Although I have always been VERY grateful for the help, no matter who took the time for me, I still found it disconcerting to sit there, listening to someone else discuss my situation with a doctor and say, “Just hang on, I’ll tell you everything later.”  I want to interact directly with the doctor, to ask my own questions.

I don’t like feeling as though I am at anyone else’s mercy or control, in anything. My independence is critically important for me, and it has been for a long time. This is why I can’t work for some big corporation with stupid rules and office politics that reduce employees to obedient automatons. I cherish living life my own way and doing my own thing.

But I’ve learned here that I sometimes have to put that pride aside and let someone take the reins for my benefit. I appreciate those friends who have been willing to do this for me, but still, it’s hard. So… this issue of feeling a loss of independence has been a nagging problem for me here.

Dealing with a Lower Quality of Life:  I live in a small, two-room apartment in a fairly good area of Kharkiv. I’ve seen places that were better and many that were much worse. Overall, I consider my place to be pretty good for the conditions here. It’s a lot better than my first apartment here.

But at the moment, my toilet is not working: the tank will not refill. As a result, I have to flush by pouring water into the bowl from six-liter bottles. My landlady is on vacation, so it won’t get fixed until next week at least. It’s a bad situation, but it certainly could be a lot worse.

For most of the summer, I had no hot water. Hot water is supplied in a communal fashion by city heating plants, and they always suspend service for a month or so for maintenance and repairs. But this year, there were some other problems, so I had no hot water for more than 12 weeks. The owner of my place finally installed a water heater about three weeks ago, so that problem was solved.

Well, not quite. The water heater eats a lot of electric current. If I forget to unplug it before I turn on my water pot to make coffee or tea, the circuit breaker trips. Sometimes the circuit breaker trips just for fun. So I have to go out into the hallway to reset the breaker.

There are a number of other things about my standard of living here that would make most Americans question my sanity for staying here. I described a lot of them in a humorous old post entitled Substandards of Living. Ukraine is a country that is still struggling to improve its antiquated Soviet infrastructure, and it has a long way to go. Roads are often terrible, buses are a far cry from what one might expect in the USSA or Western Europe, electricity can be cut off, and because many houses receive their winter heat from communal heating plants, they can remain cold into November.

The list could go on, but that’s not the point. There are many places in the world where things are similar or even MUCH worse than in Ukraine. I’ve never lived in Africa, but I know people who have, and I admire their ability to live for long periods of time in much more primitive and difficult conditions.

And I’ve experienced a number of interesting conditions. One temporary house I had in northern Japan had just a single kerosene stove to heat the whole house, and one corner of the house was collapsing. My apartment in Lima, Peru, had no window screens and no heat. Insects were not really a problem in Lima (next to the ocean), so screens were not considered necessary… but there were pigeons. And Lima never gets really cold, so heat was not considered necessary. But there were times in winter (June to August) when the combination of temperature and humidity made it feel very chilly.

The point is that an expat from North America, Western Europe or a similar country has to expect and be able to tolerate conditions that would be considered intolerable in the native country. If you can’t laugh off the fact that the doors on your wardrobe are about to fall off, your stove has to be lit with matches, or you can hear your neighbors’ intimate conversations and arguments, then you probably should not be an expat.

Sometimes Feeling Very Alone:  This is a big one. Even if you are very outgoing, learn the language pretty well, and are able to adapt to the local life, you can still have moments that remind you that you ARE a stranger in a strange land. No matter how well you assimilate and fit in, and no matter how good a social network you develop, there will still be times when you feel isolated and very alone.

Of course a person can feel alone in his or her own country and culture. But I think that’s more about the person. When you are far away from family and friends (even if you make new ones in the foreign country), there is a different kind of aloneness that can hit you. Your friends have their own lives and families, and though you might be introduced or even included in a celebration or two, you are still not a part of that group – you can’t be. And very often, when everyone else has their plans, you have nowhere to turn but your own apartment, books or the Internet.

Holidays are a good example. Your national holidays generally mean nothing in the country in which you’re living. Meanwhile, their national holidays are usually celebrated by families or among friends whose common language and culture make the celebrations special. It’s not that you are rejected for being a foreigner, but you just are not part of a family unit, and many holidays are family-oriented.

I wrote about this kind of situation at the beginning of this year in my post, The Same Old New Year. In Ukraine, New Year is a good example of a holiday that has special family significance and which is very difficult for a foreigner to enjoy with friends.

This can be a really debilitating problem for someone who isn’t psychologically able to deal with occasionally feeling alone and isolated. But even for those who can normally take it in stride at home, the kind of isolation you can sometimes feel in a foreign land is unique and can get to you.

Not Being Able to Watch Favorite Sports:  I am not a sports nut who would sit for hours on a sofa watching any game on television, and I can’t say that this is something I miss terribly. But there are times when I would like to be able to watch a special game in real time and not just hope to catch a few fleeting highlights on the Internet a day later.

This came to a head for me last spring when the Colorado Avalanche was shocking the NHL en route to its first division championship in years. I really wanted to see some of the games, especially in the playoffs. But it wasn’t possible to do that from here.

I thought it would have been great to have been able to watch this year’s Super Bowl because the Denver Broncos were in the game. Considering the result, I guess it was a blessing that I was not able to see it. More recently, my alma mater, Colorado State University Rams, thoroughly defeated the despised University of Colorado Buffaloes in the annual Rocky Mountain Showdown game. That is a game I definitely would have liked to have seen!

But overall, missing out on these games is a small thing.


So... that's just a few of the cons of the expat lifestyle, or at least MY expat lifestyle. I'll come back soon with some of the pros. And in the future, I hope to toss in a few more of each as they occur to me.

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On Being an Expatriate - Part 1

I am an expatriate (expat), a person who lives in a country that is not his native land, a country in which he is not a citizen. Many people choose to live this way at some points in their lives, some for almost their entire lives. While most expats are just ordinary people, some very well-known people have been expats at some points in their lives. 

The Famous and Not-so-Famous

For example, the American author Ernest Hemmingway lived in Paris, while his contemporary, Henry James, chose to live in England. American actor Johnny Depp splits his time between France and the Bahamas, and British actor Roger Moore (James Bond of the 1970s) has lived in Switzerland for years. His predecessor as James Bond, Sean Connery, left his native Scotland for the more agreeable weather of Spain and then the Bahamas. American actor and producer Orson Welles went into self-exile in Europe for much of his life.

Those are just a few examples of famous expats. There are many others.  But the majority of expats are not famous at all. Since the second half of the 20^th century, more people have become expats for business reasons. I knew a number of guys – Americans and Australians – who chose to live in Peru or elsewhere in South America, mainly because of the work opportunities they had in engineering, environmental science or other fields related to mining. As you might expect, many met and married local citizens and decided to stay for love.

Why Live so Far from Home?

So, besides strictly for business, why do people choose to live an expatriate life?  For many, it is the lure of curiosity and adventure.  It is interesting to see new places, experience new climates and geography, get a feel for different cultures and ways of seeing the world, and of course, to meet and get to know diverse kinds of people.

Some thrive on the challenge of overcoming language barriers and cultural unfamiliarities to make their way. It bores them to do things the same old way at home. When they get to know a place too well, they might again feel the need to move on to a new place with new customs and new challenges.

There are those who decide to live in another country because they are fed up with their own country. Usually it is because the government has gone in a direction that they find distasteful. Many of these are people who put a high value on personal freedom, and when they feel that liberty is being suppressed at home, they seek it elsewhere.

A number of people leave their native lands because they feel lost in some way. They feel that they don’t exactly fit in or that there is something important missing from their lives. And their search to “find themselves” spurs them to see if their answers might be discovered in a mysterious foreign land.

A lot of famous expats have been artists or writers in search of inspiration or ways to expand their creative perspectives. Hemmingway might never have produced such significant works if he hadn’t spent his years as an expat in Europe. And I suppose a lot of hopeful artists and writers live the expat life seeking similar inspiration.

In more recent years, most expats are people who have been sent to overseas locations by their companies, or who took jobs with companies in foreign lands. A number of American and European executives and technical experts live in China or other countries. And the vast majority of the population of the thriving metropolis of Dubai is made up of expatriates from countries like India, Pakistan and the Philippines.

Expat or Immigrant?

Expatriates don’t give up their native citizenship; if they do that, they become immigrants. This is why we normally think of expats as those from advanced countries who live in less developed ones. People who go the other way are almost always immigrants looking for a better life. 

But an expat could well be someone from one advanced country, say, Canada, choosing to live for a time in an equally developed country like Japan, Germany or New Zealand. In fact two of the top expat destinations are Germany and the UK. And at the same time as the UK is a top expat destination, Brits are among the most common nationalities living as expats in other countries.

My Curious Case

So I am an expatriate. I’ve gone to some great lengths since early 2013 to be able to stay in Ukraine legally, but I am not about to give up my USSA citizenship. Things may have degenerated a great deal under the current socialist regime back there, but I have confidence that the nightmare will end eventually and my homeland will bounce back (meaning I’ll be able to drop the second “S”).

So I do expect to return… someday. Perhaps next year, maybe the year after. I could decide not to return to Ukraine from my vacation to Colorado next month. Who knows? Anything can happen.

But WHY am I an expat? Which of the reasons I listed apply to me?  Do any of them apply? Maybe I have a unique reason. Or maybe it’s some combination. Or maybe I don’t have a reason – maybe it’s just a matter of circumstance. Sometimes I think that I had a reason at first, but now I’m just here because I am here, and it seems to work. Or maybe I just haven’t thought of a better alternative recently.

Living Abroad

I’ve spent a good deal of my adult life outside the USSA. My first experience was living for 18 months on the lush, tropical island of Guam in the Pacific Ocean. It wasn’t exactly an expat life, however, because I was assigned there when I was in the U.S. Navy and lived most of the time on a Navy base (although I did live off-base for a few months in a little village). Plus, Guam is an American territory, so although the culture and people are quite different from what I had known before that, it was officially still the United States.

But those 18 months were an amazing experience. I changed so much during that time, partly because of living there but mostly because of events that happened around me. I probably had more experiences and lived life more fully – for better or worse – during that time than during any other period before or since. It certainly gave me an appetite for living in a totally different kind of environment.

After a year and a half spent mostly in California and Texas, I embarked on my six-year assignment to Japan. Again, this was not a true expat experience. I was still in the Navy and lived mostly on military bases. I did interact with local people quite a bit (I even taught English) and had a number of Japanese friends. But everything I needed, I could get on the American bases, any problems could be solved by the American authorities, and my usual, day-to-day life was pretty much American.

Again, an awful lot happened during those six years, and the experience changed me in many ways. Both of my daughters were born there. I climbed to the top of Mt. Fuji (twice) and spent 10 days motorcycling alone around the northern island of Hokkaido. And I lost a dear friend in a stupid, horrific car crash. I had a lot of highs and some terrible lows.

After a long stint living in Colorado (which is still mostly American) broken up by a couple of years in Massachusetts (which I think is still fairly American), I began working periodically in South America, mostly in Peru. Usually, these were working trips of about two or three weeks, but there was a time in 2004-05 when our team had an apartment in Lima, and I spent a month or more at a time.

I also had the opportunity to travel far and wide across Peru and to visit other places, like Chile, Bolivia and Argentina. I experienced the thin air high in the Andes, found myself surrounded by a huge herd of llamas in a high Andean valley, ate alpaca on a stick, braved the cold and snow of the windswept Patagonian plain, soaked up the sun on a Chilean beach in Jaunary (their summer), and attended an amazing, all-night Peruvian birthday party. This was closer to the expat experience, but because it was short-term, and I still maintained a home in Colorado, it was not truly the expat life.

It has been in Ukraine that I have truly become an expat. Between May 2007 and May 2008, I spent about half my time in Ukraine, and since May 2008 I have lived in Ukraine exclusively with only a couple of vacation trips back to the USSA to visit family and friends. That’s more than six years. Some of my closest friends are here, my work is here and my community is here.

It hasn’t always been easy. In fact, at times, it’s been very tough. But I’ve grown a lot here (and not just around my waist), and I know that I am a richer, wiser and better person for the experience. At this time, it’s hard for me to imagine living anywhere else. Yet I sense that my time here might be very close to the end.

What’s Next?

Of course, it usually IS hard to imagine something else until you have made the change and experienced it. I’ve thought about returning to the USSA, but maybe not until I can remove that extra “S.” And I’ve also thought that maybe I’d like to move to another European location. I’ve long dreamed about trying Ireland, and from my visits, I know that Switzerland is nice. But… I have no idea what I would do for a living in either place (or in the USSA, for that matter). Thus, I remain in Ukraine, at least for the time being.

Several times this year, Ukraine’s turbulent troubles have had me considering whether it was time to go. At one point in the spring, I even started making some contingency plans, because it wasn’t looking good in this part of the country. But the Kharkiv region has managed to remain calm, even as Russia and their “separatist” surrogates have brewed up a terrible war to the east of us.

Thus far, it has seemed that the danger has been kept far enough to the east that I don’t really need to feel any urgency about it. But things can change, so I do keep my eyes open and stay abreast of the latest news.

But even with all of this, I still think about the future here and what I can do to improve my work and life. I’ve been thinking about how to improve my own teaching skills, expand the reach of what I do, and bring new vitality to one of my client programs. And I’ve been considering how to renew my writing work, which has languished badly. More frequent blog writing has been a step in that direction.

There are many factors to consider in deciding “what’s next.” Perhaps the most important of these is people: family and close friends. But you can’t please everyone, so you just have to find the right balance. But most important, you have to do what’s best for yourself. That might mean staying here for years to come, or it might mean just not returning from my planned visit to the USSA in September. I'll know when I know.

Pros and Cons of the Expat Life

There are so many things to say on this subject. And this post is already quite long enough. So I’ll have to leave that for another time (Part 2). Actually, that was supposed to be one of the main themes of this blog, and I haven’t written too much about it. So I need to get cracking. I have started writing a piece about Ukraine (or maybe it will be about Kharkiv), that I am tentatively calling “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” It’s sort of a cliché name, I know, but it is very fitting.  That will be coming soon.

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Circles of Friendship

My two most recent posts were each written in a day, the second in one sitting, which is a refreshing change from the way my blog writing has usually proceeded for the past year or so. I have a number of posts that I started and haven’t finished, either because the inspiration failed me or I just got busy. Lately I’ve been trying to go back and complete some of them, like the one about my father.

Here is another that had been languishing unfinished… until today.

One of the more popular conversations themes I get into with my English conversation groups is on the topic of friendship. It includes some thought-provoking questions such as:

• Are friends more important than family these days?
• Do two people need to have a lot in common in order to be friends?
• Can a friendship last a lifetime?
• Did you have any imaginary friends as a child?
• Can men and women be “just friends,” platonically?

But perhaps the most interesting question is about the definition of a friend. What does this word really mean?

When asked to define what a friend is and how many friend they have, my students’ opinions are very wide-ranging. Some have a very limited definition of friendship, and as a result, report having few real friends. Others, however, use a looser definition and suggest that they have many friends.

What’s difficult, everyone agrees, is that it is very hard to categorize these relationships, because they exist at more levels of closeness and importance than we have words to describe them. We have the word friend, but that seems to cover everything from just a bit above acquaintance to a person who is intimately close.

So, in many cases, we are left with the word acquaintance, which describes someone whom you have met and know just a little bit, and the word friend, which seems to cover everything else. We also have the term best friend, but for many of my students, this is what friend means on its own. That seems to leave undefined a large number of people who impact our lives.

Best Friend?

Many people like to talk about having “best friends,” but the use of the term can create problems. When you announce that one or two people are your best friends, you eliminate from that category others who might be close and who might consider themselves to be among your closest friends. They can be hurt to learn that they are not as high in your estimation as they had thought.

And it can be awkward when you tell someone that he or she is your best friend, only to discover that the feeling is not completely mutual. It’s almost as bad as when you tell a girl (or a guy, if you are a girl) that you love her, only to see that uncomfortable, “I don’t know what to say” look in her eyes. When you’ve gotten up the courage to say those three little words, only to realize that they are less than welcome, well… it sort of makes you want to crawl off and hide under a rock for a millennium or two.

The Effect of Social Networking

The meaning of the word friend has been further diluted by its use in social networking. A person might have hundreds of “friends” on Facebook or similar sites, but how many of them would he or she call friends in real life? And how many social networking “friends” are just friends of friends, or friends of friends of friends? How many are just people trying to expand their contact network for marketing or other promotional purposes? A lot!

Nothing has cheapened the value of the word friend more than social networking sites. They should be called “contacts” or something like that… not “friends.” Friendship can only be assessed in the real world; what transpires online is “virtual,” which by definition is something falsely fabricated in a realm that doesn’t really exist.

Friendship over Time and Distance

Often in our lives, a person who was very close at one point moves out of your life. For a time, you do and share everything together, and it’s a true friendship. But then perhaps one of you moves away (distance). You try to keep in touch (and the Internet does help with that), but the distance changes things over time. You just cease being such integral parts of each other’s lives; other people enter and take up the time and closeness that the first person had. Things change, life goes on.

Alternatively, you might drift apart over time not due to distance but due to changes in life circumstances. This often happens, for example, when one gets married and starts a family, while the other continues living the single life. The conditions of their lives just don’t match up so closely anymore. Work, relationships and other factors can have similar effects.

In these cases, one of two things can happen: the friendship can fizzle out more or less completely, or it can shift to a kind of relationship where time and distance don’t really diminish its deepness. In the second case, the two people might not see each other for years and perhaps rarely communicate, but when they do have a chance to meet and catch up, the time seems to have disappeared and they are able to pick up almost where they left off.

Clearly the first case was not meant to be a lasting friendship, while the second obviously is. I have had the first case, of course, as have we all. And I have very good examples of the second. There are several people in the USSA whom I have rarely seen during my seven or so years in Ukraine, and with whom I communicate only by occasional FB message, e-mail or phone call. But when I do return, we pick up almost as though no time has passed.

Another post I am working on concerns the idea of soul mates and soul friends. These are kindred souls who come into each others’ lives repeatedly over multiple incarnations, and, thus, the bond is unusually strong. Perhaps if the friendship sort of peters out over distance and time, it means the person was not one of those individuals you are close to in the spiritual realm. And if you are able to maintain contact and closeness for years, even without seeing each other, the person really is one of your soul friends. I’ll explore that idea more when I finally get that post finished.

Circles of Friendship

Getting back to the matter of definition, I have always seen friendship manifesting as a series of concentric circles. I am at the center, of course, because it is my personal universe of friendship, and the people in my life have places on various circles around my center. For them, they are in the center, and I am someplace on one of their circles. The number of circles a person might count out from the center depends entirely on how that person views the nature of his or her friendships. Here is how I see it.

The innermost circle is where the closest people reside. These are the people with whom, at the moment, I have the most in common, spend the most time, share my deepest thoughts and feelings, and trust the most. We have the most mutuality. Some might call such people best friends, but as I said earlier, I don’t like to use that term except very privately.

There are never many people on this circle – maybe two or three at most. Often there is only one. If you are in a relationship, your partner should be on that circle; if he or she is not, there is a problem. And it has been my experience that often there might really be no one occupying a place on that circle; sometimes we are just at such a point in life when no one is really that close.

I don’t think I have ever really had more than two people on this circle, and for most of my time in Ukraine, I’d have to say there has been either one or none. Presently, I'd have to say that I'm not sure whether there is anyone on that circle or not... which probably means not.

The next circle out is where most of the people we comfortably call “friends” exist. These are people we know pretty well; meet and spend time with at some level of frequency, either in a group or a twosome; share some experiences, thoughts and feelings; and generally feel pretty comfortable being around. They are not “everyday” parts of your life, but still quite regular.

The number of people on this circle depends really on the person at the center. For a very sociable person, there would be more than for someone who is more of an introvert. I suppose for me this circle averages around five or six people. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a bit less.

Outward from this circle is a third circle composed of people who are more than acquaintances, but not really friends in a true sense. Work colleagues and other semiregular associates usually exist here. You have some influence on each other’s lives, usually in some specific way, but it pretty much ends there.

For me, this is a large circle composed of students, teachers and others whom I have gotten to know, but don’t really interact with beyond the circumstances of our knowing each other.

People who are just acquaintances could make up yet a fourth circle before you get to the open space where all the other people in the world exist, the space filled with the faceless strangers who move all around us. It seems to me that there is a difference between acquaintances and the people who occupy that third circle. But I am sure that some people could see acquaintances as belonging to the third circle, while others might relegate acquaintances to the open space of strangers.

Moving Between Circles

And the circles are not static, they are dynamic. A person might move from one circle to another, either closer or more distant, depending on how things change between the two of you. Sometimes you might spend a little more time with a person from that second circle, and he or she moves to the inner circle. Or a person might move back because one of you moved or just stopped spending as much time together.

Anyway… that’s a capsule of one theory of friendship. There are others. And there are myriad other questions about friendship like, “What qualities make a friend?” “How long does it take before a person can be called a real friend?” or “How can two people (of opposite genders) comfortably make the leap from friendship to a full-blown relationship… or is it even possible?”

Probably it’s better not to think too much about the questions. Just enjoy having friends, and try to be the best friend to them that you can be.

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It's Getting Better (all the time)

OK… so my last post, Living in a Cage, was a little on the negative side. But that’s how I was feeling last week.

It’s a new week, and I’ve chosen to come back to the light.

I’ve documented on this blog my struggles with my weight and the pain in my back and hips. The weight has been a growing (pun intended) problem of poor choices, lack of discipline, living alone, sedentary work, Internet addiction and – to be honest – laziness. The back and hip pain, if not a direct result of the weight gain, have certainly been exacerbated by it.

Last year, I tried to summon up some discipline and put myself on a strict diet, which I wrote about in the post, Die-it! That lasted barely a month, and the failure just left me more embarrassed, defeated and believing that I couldn’t beat the problem.

In March of this year, I started going to a local gym. I started going with a friend on the idea that we would go together and encourage or push each other to do it a couple of times a week. I began with a flourish, but she quickly gave it up, and I got lax pretty quickly too. Another failure… more or less.

Finally – Success!

In May, however, I hit on something that has been a success and really helpful. I began going to a local clinic for spinal health. It’s called Espina. They offer medical consultation, physical therapy, massage and other techniques to help people with spine and joint problems. I go twice a week for physical therapy and massage, and next week I will add what they call “underwater traction” to the mix.

The results have been really quite good. It’s not apparent (yet) from my appearance or weight, but that’s a matter of finding that discipline to force myself into the kind of eating habits that – combined with the workouts – can melt off the kilos (or pounds). But the main things are that my back and hips are feeling better and that I feel stronger overall. The pain is not completely gone, but there is definite improvement!

The physical therapy is essentially a program of gym exercises with a trainer/therapist. My program focuses on muscles that support the back and hips. I do a lot of back work, both upper and lower, as well as a full regime of exercises for the hips, groin and legs. There is a bit of chest work thrown in as well.

I am working muscles I have almost never worked before. Interestingly, many of the exercises are things that we used to see girls do in my health-club weightlifting days, but “us guys” rarely did them. These are exercises for the inner and outer thighs, hips, butt and groin. And there is a big focus on abdominals. This is all stuff that I need.

Steadily, I’ve been getting stronger, even in my hamstrings, which were always a problem area for me. And I have begun to notice that, under the layer of “soft tissue” that I still carry, my arms and shoulders are getting harder – almost like the old days. That is a GREAT feeling!

My work schedule allows me to go only twice a week, but I’ve started doing the “warm-up” exercises at home every morning. I am trying to retrain myself to do this BEFORE I turn on the computer in the morning. I still have my gym membership, and I try to get there at least once a week to supplement the training at Espina. At the gym, I do some of the exercises from my physical therapy (or at least similar), but I also try to do more with my arms and chest.

And… I am cycling more!

But Still… the Hard Part

So, it’s getting better. The next step – and definitely the hardest – is to make the kind of real and lasting food-choice changes to supplement the physical stuff. This is incredibly difficult because I (my Self or my “soul mind”) am still locked in a battle with that “devil on my shoulder” (the “physical mind”) as I wrote about in the post, The Soul, the Mind and the Heart. This is absolutely the hardest part.

This is the part where a partner can really be helpful: someone who cares about you and can encourage and even push you, but out of love. It seems to me that when you have someone close who is “in your corner,” who you know wants the best for you, and who you CHOOSE to be responsible to, you have a powerful force for change.

You want to please that person, to make her (or him) proud of you, and you want it for the right reasons. If the relationship is right, you appreciate the other person’s concern and effort to help you, and through your own love, you want it to not be in vain. You want that partnership to really mean something.

Making a public declaration of “dieting” as I did last year is a loser; it has no real power. It’s too easy to listen to the physical mind saying, “Who cares what other people think?” And so you slide back into the bad habits. But when it’s someone you care about and who cares about you, when it’s personal and private, you don’t want to mess up. And best of all, you have someone to help you defeat that stupid, grinning devil on your shoulder.

Finding a Way

That all sounds nice and great. And I’m sure it would be. But my reality is that I am on my own in this. My message to myself has to be that if other people can do it without help, then I can too. I have made some changes, and I am seeing some real results. Now it’s time to build on those results and take the next step.

It’s the hardest thing, to be sure. But since this is a beautiful, sunny day, and I am writing this post in one sitting shortly after my Espina workout – and as I am choosing to be fully positive today – I believe that I can and will get on the right side of this thing.

Maybe I will still find some help along the way, but whether I do or not, ultimately it is up to me. And this is really how it is for all of us.

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