The Culture Shock Blog

First things first: I am required to let y'all know that, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

It seems that virtually every Peace Corps Volunteer with a blog eventually writes a blog about culture shock, and now is time when these blogs are popping up among the members of PC Ukraine Group 51. I've seen a handful of them lately, and it got me thinking - am I experiencing culture shock?

You'd think it would be an obvious question with an obvious answer, especially since I am supposedly some kind of expert on the topic. My Bachelor's degree is in Intercultural Communication. One of my Master's degrees is in a field that not only addresses culture shock, but trains one in how to counsel other people going through culture shock, how to manage cultural differences in international work and educational settings, and how to train and prepare people for intercultural experiences. I've been in 17 countries, studied abroad 3 times, and worked for two different international education companies. I'm, like, a culture shock expert - right?

meme found on QuickMeme.com

Ok, it was obvious where that was going.

What I'm realizing now, 4 months into my Peace Corps service, is that culture shock can manifest while seeming to have nothing to do with "culture". "Culture" - I'm prepared to deal with.

• Different approaches to time and planning? Alright, I want to become more laid-back anyway 
• The sign of the cross goes from right to left instead of from left to right, and you have to make it three times before entering a church? Cool! Religion is fascinating. 
• Different language with a different alphabet and seven noun cases and some phenomenon called perfective versus imperfective verbs? Bring it on! 
• Hyper-masculine and hyper-feminine gender norms? Yeah, they can make it frustrating to be female here, but I knew what I was getting into. 
• ... and so on.

These things (and many others) are examples of what I have long understood to be culture; they are things I am prepared to encounter and more than happy to work through. What I was not expecting, though, was the aggregation of little daily annoyances and the creeping exhaustion that comes from them.

Until just a day or two ago, I didn't think I was experiencing any culture shock, because none of the things I typically associate with culture have been bothering me. But slowly, surely, the daily little annoyances have been piling up. I've recently found myself irritable, tired, and in a constant state of ever-so-subtle dis-ease. Ha! There it is! Culture shock! I just didn't recognize it at first because it feels different than I thought it would. It feels like a bunch of little things:

• The hot, stagnant air in the marshrutka (minibus) when some grouchy old lady closes all the windows on a 90 degree day in July, and all the other passengers and even the ticket lady who works on the marshrutka are pissed off about it but nobody dares to open the windows back up  
• Living and working in buildings with oddly lightweight doors that have none of the nice little "anti-slamming" mechanisms that most doors back home have. One always has to be cringingly careful when closing doors, or else the sound will rattle the whole building
• Baking with packets of a mysterious powder called "vanilla sugar" instead of using liquid vanilla extract. Liquid vanilla extract is nowhere to be found
• Being hounded with questions like, "What on earth have you bought? Why did you buy black beans? There are plenty of other beans in Ukraine. And why did you buy dry ones? You can get canned beans. Why are you even cooking beans?" 
• and so on... 

WTF even is this?
Image nabbed from kiev.all.biz. Product, logo, all those
intellectual property things belong to Dr. Oetker company.

When you study culture shock, you most likely don't talk about vanilla extract, or disconcertingly-lightweight doors that slam really easily. And yet, these are the things that have been most exhausting for me. I find myself wanting to shout, "Come on, Ukraine - give me a break! I'm dealing with your Slavic language and your lack of recycling and the fact that people are late for everything and the whole not-doing-laundry-on-religious-holidays thing -- CAN'T I JUST WALK INTO MY ROOM WITHOUT HAVING TO THINK REALLY HARD ABOUT HOW I CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?! CAN'T I JUST MAKE A BATCH OF F***** CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?"

Sigh. Culture shock.

It doesn't always come from the big things. Sometimes it just comes from all the teeny, tiny daily reminders that you are in a place that is not yours; a place where all the usually effortless little tasks you have learned in the course of your life now take extra energy because your old habits don't work here.

Did I even mention my struggles with weighing produce at the grocery store?
No?
I won't even go there.

Time to get back to studying perfective and imperfective verbs.

Symbols and Social Reality: The Battle for the Symbolic Identity of Ukraine

Last week was the first of what I hope will be many trips to villages around Cherkasy Oblast, where I am now living and working. I was in Irkliiv with colleagues who were giving a presentation to local farmers. We had just emerged from the darkness of an old auditorium in the village cultural center, and were squinting in the sunlight. A curious monument caught my eye, and as I am wont to do, I strayed from the group to go take pictures.

"That used to be a statue of Lenin, you know."

One of my colleagues came up to join me by the monument. A Ukrainian flag now stands on what was once a pedestal for the first leader of the Soviet Union - one stone Lenin among literally thousands that were dotted around Ukraine in the 20th century to encourage Soviet unity and keep Ukrainian nationalism at bay. Now this same monument, in roughly painted letters, proclaims Ukraine's independence: "Glory to the heroes of Maidan! Unite!"

One of my favorite podcasts recently did a story about "The Falling of the Lenins" in Ukraine, and before you read any further I highly recommend that you give it a listen:
http://99percentinvisible.org/episode/the-falling-of-the-lenins/

......Have you listened yet? Go do it!
..........................................................

Cool. Carrying on.


The battle to establish Ukraine symbolically as well as politically is ever-present, both in the newfound prevalence of Ukrainian national symbols, and in the erasure or repurposing of Soviet ones. The emergence - or reemergence - of sovereign Ukraine is as much a matter of creation as it is a matter of undoing things enacted under the Soviet regime. Even while writing this blog, just now, my coworker told me about the Lenin that is now gone from the main square of Cherkasy.

"Yeah, he used to be right there - come here, you can see from the window. Right in the middle of the square."

We look out the window of our office, toward the Regional Administration Building. There is no trace of Lenin now, but he used to stand, prominently, in front of the administrative center of this Oblast. My coworker found a YouTube video of when the statue was removed (if you want to skip the commentary, jump to about the 2-minute mark):

Today, a vast and smooth square stretches out in front of the Regional Administration Building. No monuments, no flags. Just smooth concrete and stone, and a pair of fountains whose spherical shape softens the otherwise square geometry of the place. I would never have known that the giant stone Lenin was here.

The Lenin statues aren't the only symbolic battleground in Ukraine. Nearly every street in this country has been renamed - often to the confusion of anybody trying to get directions. Many locals still do not know the streets by their new names, and the old street signs are still up, bearing the names of various Generals and Marshals. But at least on Google Maps, these names have been replaced with words like "Independence" and "Comfort."

It is the replacement of symbols, rather than the attempt to destroy them, that is perhaps the most interesting to me. A few months ago, I had the privilege of visiting a museum in Cherkasy with one of the largest collections of traditional Ukrainian pendants and jewelry in the country. Traditionally, in pre-Soviet times, Ukrainian women wore elaborate metal pendants, accompanied with coral necklaces and fine stones. It was a way for a woman to show her worth, and receiving these accessories was for girls an important step into womanhood.


Items & photo from Музей Кобзаря Т. Г. Шевченка

Traditional pendants typically featured Christian symbols - often Jesus or Mary. Pendants were commonly accompanied by elaborate crosses.

But look closely at the next few pendants:

Items from Музей Кобзаря Т. Г. Шевченка

The hammer and sickle.

When Ukraine became part of the USSR, its traditional jewelry was not outlawed, but it was claimed. The USSR literally put their stamp on a Ukrainian tradition, replacing Christian symbols with Communist ones. In some ways this seems to me particularly insidious, more so than if the traditional jewelry just disappeared altogether. But in other ways it simply seems like adaptation. Symbols change. Cultures change. Things combine. And yet - it's like the new regime took a culture and a people and, with a simple change of symbol, said "This is mine." I'm not sure what to think of it.

Eventually, most traditional Ukrainian pendants were seized and destroyed by Soviet authorities anyway. That's why one of the nation's largest collections can fit in the basement of a rather small museum.

So, back to the statues. What will become of the Lenins? What should become of the Lenins? Will they be reclaimed? Destroyed? Put into a museum? It is a point of controversy for many, because symbols are a manifestation of identity, and Ukraine's identity is changing. Although the situation is vastly different, the discourse here reminds me sometimes of what I hear back home regarding the Confederate flag. How do we represent who we are today without forgetting who we once were? How do we commemorate history that not everybody wants to remember? History that was dark for some, and glorious for others? Right now in Ukraine, the mix of symbols shows the complexity of a place in transition.

Coexisting in Chernihiv: This new church, only a few years old;

this Communist monument in the churchyard, from a time when that church could not have been built;

and not far away, the Ukrainian flags that have become ubiquitous since the EuroMaidan. 

To quote Alfred Schutz: "The self-illumination of society through symbols is an integral part of social reality, and one may even say its essential part, for through such symbolization the members of a society experience it as more than an accident or a convenience; they experience it as of their human essence."

Whatever happens to the Lenins and to the other symbolic aspects of Ukraine, it is my hope that people here can claim and reflect their own history and their own identity; that the symbolic expression of Ukraine is not imposed, but collaboratively and lovingly created. It is complicated work, and I am at once fascinated and humbled to be here to witness it.





The content of this website is mine alone and does not reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government

Transformation

When I applied to the Peace Corps, I did so with the hope of becoming more like the returned volunteers I know. I wrote about them in my application letter: "My RPCV friends carry patience and strength in their demeanors, a quiet testament to all they have learned." There's just a certain something that RPCVs possess, and I aspire to understand it. I aspire to be more like them (and now, RPCV friends, you are probably chuckling at me).

Having nearly finished my three months of Pre-Service Training, I am faced with how hard and how slow personal change is. You see, the thing about transforming yourself is you have to still be yourself. You can't just take a break and set yourself aside for renovations. "Coming soon! Grand re-opening: June 2019!" It doesn't work that way. My biggest challenge in Peace Corps training has not been the 7 noun cases of the Ukrainian language, the multitude of forms to fill out, or the pickpockets on the Kyiv metro. No - my biggest challenge has been the fact that I'm still... me.

Sure, I have a new home, a new language, a new group of peers, a new title, a new job - but I'm still me. I carry with me the 10-year-old Cortney who was an obnoxious know-it-all, the 12-year-old Cortney who raged at herself over every little mistake in the horse show ring, the 16-year-old Cortney who was so afraid of her first serious crush that she would hide behind a book, and pretend not to see him so that she could escape having to be the first one to say "hi." I still get a bit pretentious when I drink whiskey,  I still find a classroom more comfortable than a casual conversation, and I still never know what to do with my hair. In other words, I might have neglected to pack peanut butter, but I remembered to bring along every little thing I don't quite like about myself.

When I stop to think about this, though, I feel a little better about it. Change is hard. I suppose my anxiety and self-criticism mean I am out of my comfort zone, and inching ever slowly and steadily along the path toward being a better person. For example, I haven't fully eliminated my tendency to be cruel to myself when I make mistakes, but I have certainly pushed that habit out of some arenas of my life - like horse shows. Now I just need to learn to be kind to myself when I do something like move several thousand miles away from all my friends and family to a place where I don't know anybody and don't speak the local language. And maybe while I'm at it I can keep working on that know-it-all thing; it's still going strong, but at least somewhat less obnoxiously, and it does sometimes come in handy for this whole learning-to-speak-Ukrainian thing.

I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to talk to cute guys, though.





I am required to say, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

On Ukrainians

This is not a blog entry about Ukrainian culture or “the Ukrainian people”; I am not comfortable writing in such sweeping terms. However, this is a blog entry about Ukrainian people – at least, about some of them. I wanted to write a little something to introduce my friends and family back home to the people who surround me in Chernihiv (although I won’t be identifying any particular individuals).

Below are a few lines that might best be thought of like impressionist sketches: they are quick glimpses of different moments and different people that came to mind today as I thought about what I wanted to share from my past few weeks in Ukraine. My writing here is neither thorough nor analytical. I just hope that after you read, you can imagine – and feel a little closer to – the people who are now my friends, family, and community.

On Ukrainians:

They might think you’re crazy if you drink tea without eating any sweets or baked goods along with it. Or they might not; maybe they’ve just learned that resistance is futile when baba wants to feed you.

They love their dogs: athletic German Shepherds, immaculately groomed Yorkies, old chubby chihuahuas, little mystery-mutts... You’ll see people walking their dogs around town, and waiting patiently in neighborhood parks while their dogs take care of “business.”

Or maybe they prefer cats.

These dogs are actually strays, because I have't yet gotten up the nerve to ask random strangers if I can take pics of their pets. Ukrainians are working to manage stray dog populations. In some cities, strays get ID tags, and are usually spayed or neutered by agencies working on the issue.
For pictures of household pets, I highly recommend following the #dogsofukraine hashtag on Instagram! 

They feed the pigeons in the park, and plant flowers in front of the church. Or maybe their baba does that. Or maybe, these days, they just go to the park to play poker and smoke with the guys, and they are too old to have a baba.

They might confess to you their weakness for fine cheeses. Unless, of course, they prefer to go non-dairy and make raw vegan tarts of the kind one gets in the US for $10 a serving at Whole Foods. Or maybe they really couldn’t care less about fine cheeses and raw vegan tarts; they’re too busy planting this year’s crop of beets and potatoes.

They probably won't let you leave the house without your daily apple. 

They can teach you how to say “selfie stick” in Russian or Ukrainian if you find yourself wanting to learn (you probably will, while taking selfies with them). Although it’s also possible they’re the type to stick with a landline, and spend more time talking on the phone with friends than taking selfies with them.

They dance zouk and bachata in the town square. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe they’re former ballroom champions, and they prefer to dance the cha-cha-cha while telling tales of their glory days. Or maybe they don’t dance at all – they’re content just watching and then putting it on YouTube.

They can throw themselves fully into the most lighthearted of endeavors even as they solemnly and tragically mourn their dead. They will laugh and cry on the same day, because the war does not stop the festivals, and the festivals do not hide the war.
Have a look at this article for pictures of a remembrance ceremony that preceded a major city festival. My pictures were unfortunately lost when my phone was damaged. 

They’ll invite you over for a backyard barbecue on holiday weekends. Or if there’s no backyard, maybe you’ll head out for a picnic in the park, where they will make daytime campfires and set out bottles of wine on a tablecloth adorning an old tree-stump. Or maybe you’ll just people-watch, and admire all the dogs as they walk by.

I am required to say, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

Христос воскрес! Easter in Ukraine

Easter is one of the year's most significant holidays in Ukraine. In fact, I'd say Easter is more of a season here than just a holiday, the same way that virtually all of December is Christmastime in the US. You start seeing the signs everywhere - the lines of people at shops, the seasonal paraphernalia, the festive feeling in the air and the bustle of preparation.

I picked up some flowers at the bazaar to adorn the kitchen table

Easter is interesting in Ukraine both for the traditions, and for the logistical details that surround them. As a newcomer here, I am equally fascinated by the divine and the mundane: the priest in his gleaming ceremonial garb, closely followed by brigade of men in rubber boots carrying plastic water buckets to keep him supplied. The 4am church services, the candles, the bells, the blessing of bread and wine - and then the clearance sale on Easter decorations at the bazaar almost immediately afterwards, and the huge lines of people at bus stops downtown on Easter Monday, waiting to head back home after their holiday weekend. Holidays manifest in fascinating ways.

The day before Easter: I just wanted a picture of the paska bread, but my host mom is very conscientious about making sure pictures look good, so she fixed up the whole table.

My childhood experiences of Easter in the US were definitely very different from what I've seen here in Ukraine. Yes, there are Easter baskets, but they are not filled by an Easter Bunny who comes in the night with candy and toys; rather, baskets are brought to church filled with bread, wine, and other foods to be blessed by a priest slinging rather intimidating amounts of holy water in the cold morning air. Thousands of people stand together in the dark, their baskets glowing with candles and draped with decorative Easter cloths. Or, as in the case of my host mom, they shove through the crowds like devoted fans at a rock concert, making sure they get their turn to be blessed.

Priest blessing the waiting crowds with holy water. He was closely followed by a bucket brigade, to keep him well-supplied. 

Leaving the church after we paid homage to the various icons inside. We came around 4:45am, and people continued to arrive until well after 8am.

In Ukraine, we also have Easter eggs - but we do not hide and then hunt for them. Rather, we have a competition in which two people at a time strike their eggs together, and the owner of whichever egg doesn't crack is declared victorious. I did pretty well at this, actually :-)

These Easter eggs are simple to make - you buy plastic sleeves, put them around the eggs, and then hard-boil the eggs in these sleeves so that they adhere. The paska bread takes quite a lot more work, though! 

Church is followed by a feast that is not for the faint of heart - especially given that we are feasting at 6am. On Easter there is no taboo about drinking alcohol early in the morning. I had something like 5 glasses of wine with my breakfast, to toast the resurrection of Jesus.

I think my favorite thing about Easter here is all the picnics. After my post-breakfast recovery nap, I took a walk along the river, and for a good mile the parkway along the shore was dotted with families out to enjoy the holiday. Men were out fishing, young people had stereos and soccer balls, old folks and families had picnic blankets laid out with cheese and wine. Many people took advantage of fallen trees to sit on, and most gathered nearby branches to build fires and makeshift barbecue spits. The rain deterred nobody, and some people even had tarps strung up in the trees to cover their little folding tables.

I got concerned looks if I tried to photograph the people who were out picnicking, so I just took a photo of this motorcycle. 

Easter Season is not quite over, it seems. Stores are filled with leftover paska bread, and people are busy visiting the graves of deceased loved ones to bring offerings of eggs and wine. My host mom was telling me that on the 24th, there will be another holiday specifically for memorializing those who have passed, although she already visited the graves of her parents the day before Easter.

To all those at home in the States, I hope all is well! I miss the chocolate bunnies and Reese's peanut butter eggs, but I am still glad to be here experiencing one of the biggest holidays in Ukraine!


I am required to say, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

Моє місто - Чернігів (My city - Chernihiv)

Hello from Chernihiv, Ukraine!

First things first: I am required to say, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

Okay! Onward with the blog.

When I was taken under consideration for Peace Corps Ukraine, I knew of exactly one Ukrainian city: the capital, Kyiv. That's where we flew into, but so far I have only seen the airport. My group - PC Ukraine Group 51 - is spending 3 months in Chernihiv, a smaller city about 2 hours to the northeast, for Pre-Service Training (PST). Look at the tippity-top of the map below, and you'll find it. 

I got this image HERE (citing sources is important, y'all)

I would say that Chernihiv and Kyiv have a healthy rivalry going (perhaps from back in the 11th-century golden age of Kyivan-Rus, when both Kyiv and Chernihiv were principalities?) To this day, people in these cities disagree about which city was built first, and which one has the oldest cathedral. Both cities are over 1,000 years old - although my host mom insists that Chernihiv was definitely here first. 

Transfiguration Cathedral was built in the 1030's and is the oldest building in Chernihiv.
Photo cred: My picture, don't steal it.  

White plaster was added some decades ago, but sections of the 1000-year-old original brick-and-stone construction are still visible. 

Chernihiv has a marvelous historical district called the Val, from the Ukrainian word for "ramparts." In Medieval times, Chernihiv was a walled city protected by a fortress. The fortress is gone now, replaced by a lovely brick walkway lined with cannons that make for great photo-ops. It's the kind of place where one goes strolling with a good friend and an ice cream cone (or hot chocolate at this time of year). Also - yes, you are absolutely allowed to climb on the cannons. It's great. 

The view from the Val.

This is one of the small cannons. Somewhere out in cyberspace, there may lurk a picture of me climbing on one about three times this size.
Thanks Laura-Ashley for indulging my need to take a cheesy tourist photo. 

While Chernihiv definitely has plenty of appeal to the history nerds among us, it also offers most of the diversions of modern life. The Latin dance scene is pretty solid - plenty of opportunities to social dance and take lessons in salsa, bachata, zouk, and kizomba. I've been out dancing twice so far, and aim to go again this coming week. 

A salsa line dance at a party to celebrate Viva La Vida, a dance studio in Chernihiv that just passed the 6-year mark since its founding. Happy sixth birthday, Viva La Vida! 

There is evidence! I went dancing! This was at a venue called SkyDance. 
Photo cred: SkyDance friends, help me out here.
If you know who was the photographer on March 24th, 2017, let me know so I can credit him. 

There is a craft brewery in town, although I have not tried it. I've been too busy enjoying some soul-satisfying Lviv-style hot chocolate at a place whose name I'd rather not transliterate, so I'll just write it in Ukrainian - Льівська Майстерня Шоколаду. 

Say it with me: Chocolate Is Life.

There are plenty of other things to write about - our language courses, our meetings with various agencies and organizations, our nerves about site placement interviews next week, ongoing memorials for the soldiers who continue to be lost on the eastern front - but for now I'll keep it short and sweet. Although in June I will most likely be moving to another part of Ukraine, Chernihiv is my first Ukrainian hometown and I wanted to share it with you all. 

6,000 Miles, 70+ New Friends, and a Lot of Borshch

Hello! It's been a few weeks, but I'm home with a headcold and it has finally slowed me down enough to sit down and tend to my blog.

First things first: I am required to say, "The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”

And on we go:

Here's just a quick run-down of my journey from West Sacramento, California, USA to Chernihiv, Chernihivs'ka Oblast, Ukraine. 

• Saturday, March 11th: Hauled many, many bags and caught a red-eye flight to Washington, D.C. First success - bags were all under the weight limit! First failure - I forgot to keep my luggage receipts for reimbursement. 
• Pro-tip: Have a good backpack! I used my backpacking pack as one of my checked luggages, and it made my life much easier than if I were trying to roll everything.

• Sunday, March 12th: Landed in DC, locked my bags in the hostel, grabbed Mexican food with a local buddy, and then walked over to the Capital Mall to meet some of my new Peace Corps compadres. It was so great to meet in person with the people I'd been connected with for months via social media. Love you guys!!!! 
• Pro-tip: Fly in to your staging city a touch early so you can explore! Your extra day or two of lodging won't be covered, but your flight will be. Also, make sure you have arrangements for storing your luggage while you are out and about. 

•  Monday, March 13th: We checked in to our hotel in Georgetown for staging. We did some icebreakers, and tried to soak in lots of information that I am pretty sure none of us remember. Also, we got cupcakes. Or that might have been Tuesday. I don't know, but I do know I got the peanut-butteriest peanut butter cupcake that I have ever had in my life. No regrets there. My sole regret is not packing a giant tub of peanut butter for my life in Ukraine. 
• Pro-tip: If you have even the slightest inclination to pack peanut butter with you, PACK THE PEANUT BUTTER. 

• Tuesday,  March 14th: Departure day! And also, Stormageddon! Winter Storm Stella really sounded like she was going to delay our flight, but luckily that wasn't the case. We got some pretty pictures of snow, and still made it out on time. 

• However - we did have to entirely re-pack the luggage compartment of the bus because we failed to fit everything in the first time. I like to think of it as our first hands-on training exercise. 
• Pro-tip: Plan how your bags will go into the bus in an organized way (big, hard-shell suitcases can go in first, with smaller or softer ones on top. Carryons will quite possibly end up on your lap. Don't just throw everything into the bus and hope for the best. Especially if it's snowing and gross outside. 

Look at all these beautiful people. They each have over 100 lbs of luggage. 

• Wednesday, March 15th???? It was that vague sort of time that happens when you are journeying across time zones. Anyway, we transferred through Frankfurt and had to take some little bus around the tarmac for a ridiculous amount of time, and then spend a ridiculous amount of time waiting on the stairwell up to the plane. But it wasn't real time, right? It was, like, surreal travel time. 
• Pro-tip: Lufthansa Airlines serves free wine. It's a long flight - enjoy. But also drink some actual water, because you will hit the ground running upon arrival.  

• Wednesday, March 15th - I am pretty sure this was, in fact, Wednesday, March 15th. We got to Kyiv, hopped a bus to Chernihiv, and had some info crammed into our heads that we were too sleep-deprived to remember. We got to a hotel in Chernihiv, and then had a lovely traditional Ukrainian welcome ceremony with salt and bread. This hotel was to be our home for the next three days, until meeting our host families. 
• Pro-tip: Have some business casual clothes in your carry-on, along with your toiletries and anything else you will need for the first few days. We didn't get to unpack until meeting our host families, so I had to live out of my carry-on bag. 

And now, just writing all this has made me really tired!!! Long story short - we made it!