I’ve written about Christmas Eve morning and how I got the most awesome Christmas present ever, but I have failed (until now!) to write about Ukrainian Christmas. Orthodox Christmas takes place on January 7th, so around two on Christmas eve the roommate and I set off in high spirits to meet our friend Olia in the center of Lviv and then take a marshooka to her village for the night. Chad and I both dressed up like the good little orphan children we are to be taken in and adored by our friend’s family. (I would like to note that we both have living families who love us but sadly they are currently not located in Ukraine.) We met and chit chatted on our way to the marshook stop over random minor things.
It took us about 40 minuets to reach our stop where Olia’s brother picked us up in his car and drove us to their village and house. I was asked what I thought about the village and I said it looked nicer then the one in Georgia I had lived in. My friend joked that she was sorry that the toilet would be indoors and hopes that was ok with me. I said I would try to manage the best I could, but if she found me outside squatting I apologized right then.
I was nervous about meeting Olia’s parents. I always want to make a good impression with people, especially parents. I had gone into full good roommate mode the night before and had made sure to buy wine and chocolate for our host. I was quite proud with my selection of Georgian wine as it came from my new “home” region. I would have thrown in a live Maine lobster too, but the grocery store was out of them.
My worries about meeting a new mother were unneeded as always. She was a cute short woman who put us to work as soon as we had put our things in Olia’s bedroom. She and her daughter share the common trait of being able to order people around and you can’t help but always giving in and doing their bidding right away and not feel any resentment at all and enjoy the task.
There was plenty of food preparing to be done for the Christmas ever fest that was to take place after dark, when the first star appeared in the sky. Traditionally twelve dishes are served and none of them can have meat in them. Our Ukrainian mother gave us tea and let us have some of the traditional Christmas pastries, that were either filled with jam or poppy seeds, even though you were suppose to spend the day fasting. (Good job to the three mid-twenty year olds who didn’t think to eat before coming. I know personally it was because of how excited I was over my present and perhaps because I had drank copious amounts of vodka the night before. Oops.)
After it was work time. Chad helped with anything that Ukraine Mama could throw at him. She has met him before and it is clear to see they are both smitten with each other. I was given a task to drain jarred mushrooms and put them in a bowl. Something that I could safely do, without blowing up the kitchen.
We were then sent to set the table and I started playing the Glee Christmas soundtrack. (I love Glee and I don’t care who knows. There will never been enough Glee in my life. I am really regretting not conning someone into buying seasons 1 & 2 for me before coming to Georgia. It’s happening when I go back to America this summer so someone put a fund together. I’m a poor teacher.) Setting seven places didn’t take too much time for the three of us so we were allowed to go back up to Olia’s room for a bit. I made them watch the Daily Show, which they didn’t seem to think was nearly as funny as I did. The normal TV got turned on and was flipped through by someone else and I lost interest and went on Facebook most likely, until we were called down to help make vareniki.
This was beyond hilarious as Olia’s mother AND grandmother repeatedly showed me how to make them properly. I got the hang of it after awhile, so the edges were closed properly so when they were boiled the potato filling wouldn’t burst out. Olia also explained to me that she learned how to make these in school when she was younger. I honestly do not remember being taught how to cook anything useful in school. I know we made gingerbread houses.
Chad kept sneaking mouthfuls of the filling, when none of the parental figures were looking. He had been doing it all day with different food and it was quite funny to see him stuff a whole piece of bread in his mouth at once, for risk of being caught. His vareniki edges we’re not full pushed together and I kept fixing them while shaking my head. It was really amusing looking at a finished tray and being able to point out which ones were done by which person.
We were then instructed to put the food that was ready on the table while Ukraine Mama finished up in the kitchen. The dishes were counted and recounted to make sure that we had the twelve we needed. There was also a huge amount of hay bundle wrapped in a table cloth under the table that was suppose to have some religious significance, but I forget what it was for.
We all sat down with our first course of soup after praying and saying grace. The men were each poured shots of vodka and the women got wine. A feeling of being slightly left out over came me and perhaps my independent feminist alcoholic side came out. I wanted vodka and wasn’t offered it because I was a girl (or maybe I was and said no and was not offered it again.) Looking back now I feel foolish for feeling this way. I was offered more wine and I joked with Olia that I needed it because I was having alcohol withdrawal and the shakes were about to set in if I didn’t drink. I was horrified when she translated this into Ukrainian for her parents. Her mother gave me a concerned look. Awesome. Her mother thought I was an alcoholic, but it’s ok because I am sure my mother feels the same way. Only in Ukraine people!
Over dinner I was offered so much food. I felt like it was it was a test and I had to pass, except for when it came to the fish. There were three different kinds and I just looked at it with detestation. I do not eat cold blooded animals. It is just not natural. I explained to Olia after her prodding to eat it that I would be more then happy to do so, if she felt like cleaning up my vomit after. She stopped.
After we stopped eating, we listened to Ukrainian Christmas carols and I highly enjoyed in my wine and food induced happiness. I also believe being in the presents of such a loving family and with two of my great friends played into it too. I tried singing along to a few of the songs which I am sure was amusing, because I am always amusing. They wanted to hear some American Christmas songs so I put on Wham’s Last Christmas and I was politely told that this was what was wrong with America. Christmas produced songs like this one, instead of ones that were religious the way they should be. I just shrugged because I knew they were right. After four and a half Christmas seasons spent in retail saying Merry Christmas out loud to people that I was not close to, just didn’t seem right. “Dear God please don’t fire me for saying Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays,” was a thought that plagued me all threw out my first year in retail.
After a bit more singing, we went up to Olia’s room and all pilled into her bed and watched the great Christmas classic Gridlock’d with Tupac in it. It was a good movie I must say and we all enjoyed it. I was mostly happy that it was in English. After it was over Chad and Olia’s brother all went to their separate bedrooms. I slept in Olia’s room and it was nice to have a girls sleepover.
We had set our alarms the night before to get up and go to church early in the morning and by we I mean Olia and I. The alarms were turned off and we passed back out. Around eleven I wondered into Chad’s room to wake him up. He asked me how church was. I asked if it looked like I had been to church, with a smile. He knew I hadn’t been.
The day was pretty uneventful, just full of eating and hanging out with everyone and watching another movie The Running Man, which reminded me of the Hunger Games. Chad and I set off around dusk for Lviv, ready to get back to our city life.
