Pestilog

A Few Field Diary Excerpts

I met two women in the office, a young girl who answers the phones, and Oxsana, who I believe is a financial manager? Maybe? I cant be sure. They were terribly amused that I didn't speak Russian, but were very nice, and offered me tea as soon as I sat down.


After the meeting, Pavlo drove me and Marina and the older woman, who I thought was named Oleksandra, but I now think is Natalia to the Center Doviri. One funny thing happened before we got there. Pavlo came up to me with a box of papers, and said, "Jennifer, are you feminist?" and handed it to me to carry, with a huge smile on his face. The rest of the group laughed at his joke. Funny.


In the afternoon, I went back to the center, and hung out with the three blonde women who mother me. One is Ira from the other day, Plus another Olga and another Natalia. They speak only Russian, though Ira speaks enough Ukrainian for her and I to have a nice conversation on the steps about our college studies. The three of them seem to encourage each other in their mothering tendancies. They spent the majority of the afternoon haggling people over paperwork, answering phones, and feeding me and everyone else who waked by copious amounts of cake and teas with nearly a tablespoon of sugar in each small cup. I almost died from it.


This morning, I went on a wild goose chase with this guy named Sasha to the substitution therapy clinic. He invited me with him yesterday, and we left as soon as he arrived this morning. I didn't take any of my things with me, so he ended up paying for my bus fare, which I felt bad about. I need to remember to pay him back tomorrow, though he probably won't accept it.


A lot of the time, I felt like he forgot what language I understand and began speaking to me in Russian. Especially after his treatment I could barely understand a word. He was very loud with me too. He burst into the clinic and immediately introduced me loudly and repeatedly to everyone, before they could even see me, as someone from Chicago in America who was studying in Odessa for her dissertation. It was really disruptive and rather embarrassing for me. He kept insisting that I talk to people. Go ahead and talk to them, ask a questions and I will translate right now!


The smoke breaks out on the sidewalk are so good for getting to know the staff. We talk about school, about politics, about the music that the girls have on their phones. No one is on the job while they are out on the patio. Its fascinating.


This morning, I also went to the TB hospital with Max and Olena. It was interesting. The conditions were bad, of course. 5-6 beds in a small room. One man that we met was naked from the waste down and covered in bed sores and absesses. He had a catheder in that was running down into a plastic soda bottle under his bed. The rooms were cleaned regularly, but still fairly dirty, and most of the patients had food stashed around, so they could eat during the day. One man even had a carton of a half a dozen eggs under his bed.


After I tell him that there is a big problem with needle sharing in the US, Max asks, "but needles are very little money in the US, yes?" When I tell him yes, he says "So, why this problem?" I tell him that its because pharmacists wont sell to IDUs and the police harass them as well. He asks "Why do you not talk to the police? Here, our organization and police, we have cooperation." He shares this story with Olena, about police taking clean needles, and she looks shocked and horrified. She looks to me for confirmation, and says "Da?"

Labels: drugs, odessa, ukraine

posted by Veruka2 @ 7:03 PM