During the 6 or 7 months that I spent in Odessa, Ukraine alone and without parents when I was 14 years old, I had the most exciting, lonely, wonderful, and scary time of my life.
I was sent to Ukraine to study at the Odessa State Ballet School when I was in 9th grade. I was young and vulnerable and had no clue that I was in for the ride of my life.
I still remember how nervous I was the first day in my new Russian school. I was put a grade behind because Russian schools teach much faster than schools in America. There were only 10 grades back then and the 8th graders knew far more than I did in 9th grade.
The teacher walked me into the class for the first time and every single eye in the room glared at me with curiosity. To them, I was a stranger from a bigger, better world. I was the celebrity student. But this quickly changed...
Once the curiosity wore off, hatred and jealousy set in. At first, all of the students tried to befriend me thinking that it would gain them popularity. But after a while, they began to detest the material possessions that I had.
School books were a luxury and most could not afford them. I, on the other hand, lugged around five of my enormous American school books so that I had something to read in English. I remember one day, a girl sitting next to me said out loud, "Look at the American and her fancy book, I didn't even know she could read."
I had brought my TI-83 graphing calculator to school one day. BIG MISTAKE. I was ridiculed for having something they could not afford. They said I was dumb because smart people didn't need to use calculators.
Even in English class, where you would think I would be the best student, I was considered an outcast. The students would constantly complain that they could not understand my "American" accent (they were taught proper English).
The bathrooms at the school were...not very private...to say the least.
There was no toilet, just a hole in the floor. To make things worse there were no stalls. Yep, just a hole in the floor next to another hole in the floor. Wait, it gets worse. There was no doors at the entrance of the bathroom. People walking by in the hallway could glance in and see several people doing there business out in the open.
I often held it in.
The crazy thing was that I went to the best school in Odessa where all of the rich kids went. It wasn't a rundown building or anything. It was a beautifully restored mansion with white marble grand staircases and the works.
Because of the torment, I would skip school many days and roam the city of Odessa. I would explore every bit of the city, sometimes walking for 5 to 6 hours at a time. I would walk along the famous Deribasovskaya Road....
I must have climbed the Potemkin Stairs at least 100 times during my stay.
Some nights, I would sneak into the Odessa Opera Theater and watch a real opera from high up above stage where the curtains are hung (kind of like Phantom Of The Opera).
I never wanted to go home. There was nothing to do there. The family I was staying with had no computers, not internet, and the only TV was in a bedroom that I was not allowed in. All I had was a solitaire card game on my phone to entertain me.
Even through all of the darkness, I began to make friends with the girls in my ballet class who all looked up to me because I was the best dancer at the school.
They were constantly asking me questions and inviting me to hang out with them. As I grew closer to these girls, I grew friendships that I will never forget my whole life.
Ballet and these girls were what made my life in Odessa exciting. Once a month we would all perform in the ballet Thumbelina, at the famous Odessa Opera Theater, in which I had a lead role.
It was truly amazing to perform a real ballet, with a live orchestra, and thousands of people watching you. I cannot think of a more exhilarating feeling than being on stage.
I was always aware that I had more money than my friends. The majority of people lived in poverty and the rich, well they were VERY rich. Well beyond the wealth that we know.
I remember my mom had sent me money from America one week. I went with a friend to exchange a $100 bill at an outdoor currency exchange booth. A group of older boys had seen us exchange the money and proceeded to follow for about 15 blocks begging for money for their "sick mom" or "dying dog".
Following us soon turned into a fast paced walk. In no time they were chasing us at full speed. We were outnumbered and scared out of our minds. We ran for 5 minutes until we reached our ballet school. We ran inside and waited half an hour for them to smoke a cigarette, give up and leave.
Everyone smoked in Odessa. And I mean EVERYONE. The first time I saw a 7 year old boy puffing away at a cigarette I almost fell off my chair. After several months, it didn't phase me.
It got even scarier sometimes. One night, a man came to our house and forced the elderly lady that I was staying with and her granddaughter outside onto the street. He beat them onto the ground and yelled profanities at them. My 14 year old self decided to protect them somehow and quickly grabbed an empty plastic bottle and ran to the doorway to defend them. I was shaking so hard from fear my body started to convulse. Fortunately he walked away without seeing me before I made an irrational move.
It wasn't all bad though. I have so many wonderful memories of Odessa. The late night sleepovers with my friends, getting butter & sugar crepes from outdoor vendors, performing in the theater, visiting the open air markets, and the friendly people of the city.
Several months into my stay, I very much longed to read something in English. A newspaper, a book, anything! I searched many many book stores and libraries, but nothing. I had bought 2 books at the airport before leaving to Odessa (Bridget Jones Diary 1 & 2) and reread those 2 books many many times. I craved for something that connected me to my world back home and it was the only thing that could comfort me.
When it came time for me to leave Odessa, I took the train to the Kiev Airport. Four of my best friends came with me to the station to say their good byes. The last memory I have is of them staring at me with sad eyes as my train took off. I watched one girl, Oksana, run after the train sobbing uncontrollably. And that was the moment that I realized how much they had meant to me and how much I meant to them.
I often think about my time in Odessa and the good always out shines the bad. I long to go back and be able to experience the city as a tourist.
One day I will.
Tags: odessa, travel, ukraine
I was sent to Ukraine to study at the Odessa State Ballet School when I was in 9th grade. I was young and vulnerable and had no clue that I was in for the ride of my life.
I still remember how nervous I was the first day in my new Russian school. I was put a grade behind because Russian schools teach much faster than schools in America. There were only 10 grades back then and the 8th graders knew far more than I did in 9th grade.
The teacher walked me into the class for the first time and every single eye in the room glared at me with curiosity. To them, I was a stranger from a bigger, better world. I was the celebrity student. But this quickly changed...
Once the curiosity wore off, hatred and jealousy set in. At first, all of the students tried to befriend me thinking that it would gain them popularity. But after a while, they began to detest the material possessions that I had.
School books were a luxury and most could not afford them. I, on the other hand, lugged around five of my enormous American school books so that I had something to read in English. I remember one day, a girl sitting next to me said out loud, "Look at the American and her fancy book, I didn't even know she could read."
I had brought my TI-83 graphing calculator to school one day. BIG MISTAKE. I was ridiculed for having something they could not afford. They said I was dumb because smart people didn't need to use calculators.
Even in English class, where you would think I would be the best student, I was considered an outcast. The students would constantly complain that they could not understand my "American" accent (they were taught proper English).
The bathrooms at the school were...not very private...to say the least.
There was no toilet, just a hole in the floor. To make things worse there were no stalls. Yep, just a hole in the floor next to another hole in the floor. Wait, it gets worse. There was no doors at the entrance of the bathroom. People walking by in the hallway could glance in and see several people doing there business out in the open.
I often held it in.
The crazy thing was that I went to the best school in Odessa where all of the rich kids went. It wasn't a rundown building or anything. It was a beautifully restored mansion with white marble grand staircases and the works.
Because of the torment, I would skip school many days and roam the city of Odessa. I would explore every bit of the city, sometimes walking for 5 to 6 hours at a time. I would walk along the famous Deribasovskaya Road....
I must have climbed the Potemkin Stairs at least 100 times during my stay.
Some nights, I would sneak into the Odessa Opera Theater and watch a real opera from high up above stage where the curtains are hung (kind of like Phantom Of The Opera).
I never wanted to go home. There was nothing to do there. The family I was staying with had no computers, not internet, and the only TV was in a bedroom that I was not allowed in. All I had was a solitaire card game on my phone to entertain me.
Even through all of the darkness, I began to make friends with the girls in my ballet class who all looked up to me because I was the best dancer at the school.
They were constantly asking me questions and inviting me to hang out with them. As I grew closer to these girls, I grew friendships that I will never forget my whole life.
Ballet and these girls were what made my life in Odessa exciting. Once a month we would all perform in the ballet Thumbelina, at the famous Odessa Opera Theater, in which I had a lead role.
It was truly amazing to perform a real ballet, with a live orchestra, and thousands of people watching you. I cannot think of a more exhilarating feeling than being on stage.I was always aware that I had more money than my friends. The majority of people lived in poverty and the rich, well they were VERY rich. Well beyond the wealth that we know.
I remember my mom had sent me money from America one week. I went with a friend to exchange a $100 bill at an outdoor currency exchange booth. A group of older boys had seen us exchange the money and proceeded to follow for about 15 blocks begging for money for their "sick mom" or "dying dog".
Following us soon turned into a fast paced walk. In no time they were chasing us at full speed. We were outnumbered and scared out of our minds. We ran for 5 minutes until we reached our ballet school. We ran inside and waited half an hour for them to smoke a cigarette, give up and leave.
Everyone smoked in Odessa. And I mean EVERYONE. The first time I saw a 7 year old boy puffing away at a cigarette I almost fell off my chair. After several months, it didn't phase me.
It got even scarier sometimes. One night, a man came to our house and forced the elderly lady that I was staying with and her granddaughter outside onto the street. He beat them onto the ground and yelled profanities at them. My 14 year old self decided to protect them somehow and quickly grabbed an empty plastic bottle and ran to the doorway to defend them. I was shaking so hard from fear my body started to convulse. Fortunately he walked away without seeing me before I made an irrational move.
It wasn't all bad though. I have so many wonderful memories of Odessa. The late night sleepovers with my friends, getting butter & sugar crepes from outdoor vendors, performing in the theater, visiting the open air markets, and the friendly people of the city.
Several months into my stay, I very much longed to read something in English. A newspaper, a book, anything! I searched many many book stores and libraries, but nothing. I had bought 2 books at the airport before leaving to Odessa (Bridget Jones Diary 1 & 2) and reread those 2 books many many times. I craved for something that connected me to my world back home and it was the only thing that could comfort me.
When it came time for me to leave Odessa, I took the train to the Kiev Airport. Four of my best friends came with me to the station to say their good byes. The last memory I have is of them staring at me with sad eyes as my train took off. I watched one girl, Oksana, run after the train sobbing uncontrollably. And that was the moment that I realized how much they had meant to me and how much I meant to them.
I often think about my time in Odessa and the good always out shines the bad. I long to go back and be able to experience the city as a tourist.
One day I will.
Tags: odessa, travel, ukraine