Are You Hungry?

For whatever reason, I had been led to believe the food in Ukraine would be somewhat underwhelming. The Ukrainians, I'd been told, were not known for their food, so I'd better be prepared for long periods with little good food, or meals that consisted of offerings I'd be unlikely to find appealing. I would likely lose weight and come home ready for a simple cheeseburger and fries, the thinking went.

While I'm not sure where this line of thought came from, it couldn't have been more inaccurate. I ate well and enjoyed nearly everything put in front of me. On my first day at school, I gave a presentation on standardized testing in the America to a group of teachers from Gymnasium 18, where I was assigned, as well as teachers from other schools in Lutsk, who were all together to discuss testing. After the presentation, I was summoned to the office of the school director. He wanted to meet me, I was told, and we'd have a small lunch. I was accompanied by Natalia, the assistant director of the school, as well as a woman from the local office of the education ministry. Both ladies had attended my presentation.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but an interesting aspect of the meeting was that the school director, a man of my age, did not speak English. He was neatly dressed in a classic business suit and his office was large, if sparsely appointed. He came from around his large desk and greeted us at the door after we were shown in by his secretary. Introductions were made and I was welcomed. Natalia did most of the translating, though the local ministry official also spoke English quite well.

We were seated at a conference table on the side of the room, and as I scanned the spread, I saw many foods I recognized, including navel oranges, green olives, bananas, and kiwis. The meal was made up largely of fresh fruit, which is considered a minor delicacy in Lutsk, especially in the cold weather season. The local growing season was only just beginning, so these fruits were from Turkey or the Crimea region of Ukraine, I was told.

On the table as well was a bottle of Georgian cognac. We sat down, and the discussion began. "Was I comfortable in the hotel," the director wanted to know. I was. "Were the teachers at Gymnasium 18 showing me what I wanted to see," he continued. So far as I thought I knew what I wanted to see, they were.

During the conversation, I was offered small portions of the varied foods. In between answers, I sampled the oranges, the bananas, even the shrimp stuffed olives, which was a stretch for me. After the first couple courses, the director broke out the cognac and filled the four small shot glasses. He explained that Ukrainian tradition was firm on the order of toasts. The first toast was to health. We all raised our glasses. The amber coganc was smooth, more smooth than I'd expected. The second toast was to friendship. Again we raised our glasses. The third toast now required the director and me to stand up. He explained that the third toast was to the women and to love; the two women giggled, but we all held up our glasses and drank. In short order, the meeting hit a measured pace; before long the food was mostly depleted and the cognac bottle empty. Our meeting lasted more than an hour and when we stood to leave, the director explained that the teachers had been complimentary of me already and that he looked forward to our next meeting. If the food and drink were any indication, I too looked forward to the next meeting.