The Beginning

My days in Ukraine go a little bit like this: 

I wake up in the morning in a dining room that doubles as my bedroom, pull on some wool socks, and quietly shuffle into the kitchen. I struggle with the Ukrainian coffee machine for about a minute, muttering under my breath (not really). As the coffee brews, I stand on the balcony of the 14th floor of the small Soviet flat I've been calling home and watch Uzhgorod wake up. People in fur-hooded coats walk to work, taxis beep their horns, and the city slowly comes to life. Autumn is in full swing here in Ukraine and I love it. I eat a breakfast of toast, cheese and sausage. I drink three tiny cups of coffee and get dressed: black turtleneck, jeans, and boots. 

I ride the tiny elevator down, usually squished between two large, intimidating Soviet-looking men. I greet them with a smile and they usually do not return it. I walk along the river and nod a hello to the fishermen and stray dogs. Then, I make my way to one of five organizations: Public School #14, The Rehab Center for disabled children, Chaslivitsi Orphanage, New Family Center, or Pavlovo Farm Home. This week has been a time of visiting my different work sites and attempting to create a work schedule for the next three months. I will also likely be working at the hospital for abandoned babies; I'll be cuddling the little ones and changing their diapers. 

Although I have yet to solidify a consistent work schedule, I've found myself adjusting to living as a Ukrainian quite well. I love it here. I've been attempting to speak Ukrainian even though I butcher it all the time. I have moments of pride when I catch bits of people's conversations in coffee shops or when I can direct a taxi alone. Mostly, I just mimic people under my breath and hope that eventually I will know what it all means. 

Living in a foreign country is both inspiring and isolating. Some moments, I feel inexplicably connected to those around me though we come from vastly different cultures and speak different languages. Other moments, I feel absolutely isolated and lightyears away from home. Some moments I feel overwhelmed by what lies ahead; how can I make these three months truly count? 

In these moments, I compulsively repeat this phrase in my mind: start where you are, use what you have, and do what you can. The perfect moment and the perfect situation is never here, but what is in front of me NOW? What can I do NOW? I can start where I am, I can use what I have, and I can do what I can. It's never perfect, but it's up to me to put one foot in front of the other on both the good days and bad. Sometimes it's wonderful and beautiful, other days it's not. But I'll take both, thank you. 

And thus concludes the first week(ish) of my Ukrainian adventure. In the words of good ol' Vincent Van Gogh: "I am seeking, I am striving, I am in this with all of my heart." 

Welcome and Introductions!

Hello and welcome! Please allow me to introduce myself...

My name is Hannah Janese Bittner. I am twenty one years of age and a student at Oregon State University. I am currently sitting in a corner of the Amsterdam airport, and I realized now was as good as time as any to begin documenting my journey.

I am embarking on a three month adventure to the country of Ukraine. During my time in Ukraine, I will be teaching English in a rural orphanage for disabled children, teaching in a school for Roma children, and doing several other things as well. I have traveled to Ukraine three times before, though this will be my longest stay.

Ukraine was not chosen at random. My love affair with Eastern Europe began at the ripe, young age of ten. I was ten when I picked out a book in the library about World War II; I sat in the corner and read the whole thing cover to cover. I have been drawn to Eastern Europe ever since. In addition to this, my father has traveled to Ukraine countless times, and I suppose I just strangely followed in his footsteps. I love Ukraine, and I am so excited to get to live there for three months. I really, really am.

I would like to take this moment to express my gratitude to those who helped make this opportunity possible. I consider it an absolute honor to have the support of my family and friends; without them, this would not have been possible. I believe that my parents are not only the best parents in the world, but they are also the best people in the whole world. If you do not yet know them, you should get to know them. You will not regret it. My mother and father are selfless, beautiful people. My father is a dreamer; he is the one I go to when I have a crazy idea or adventure in mind. He always looks me straight in the eye and tells me to go. A father that supports his daughter that selflessly is a rare gem. My mother is my rock; she is my best friend and closest companion. If my father is the dreamer, my mother is the glue. She is the one who holds everything together; she is the one who will wait up for me at 2AM when I need to talk and eat popcorn. My parents have taught me that true love does not bind; true love liberates. They always let me go, and that is how I know they truly love me.

In addition to my parents, I have a pretty amazing support system of friends that have been constant sources of encouragement. I am so unbelievably thankful for every one of them and each of the unique relationships they have allowed me to be a part of. I hope that each of them knows that I am honored to have a front row seat in their lives. And shout out to Scotty and Annie, my brother and sister: this summer has been the best. Thanks for sleeping in my van with me.

So, here we go! Thank you for reading this and taking an interest in my adventures in Ukraine. Here's to a great three months in the country I love!

"True love doesn't bind. It liberates. True love says: I love you if you are home. I love you if you are in New York. I love you if you are in Iceland. I would like to be near you, but that's not possible right now. So, I love you. GO."