Owning Uncertanty

This post has been a while in coming. I first drafted it almost two months ago while still on break in LA. At the time, it only felt like a half-baked idea. Now I think I’m ready to complete it:

Sometimes I could swear I lead two lives. One is European. The other remains in the U.S.  When I’m a part of one, the other seems as if it’s only a dream. Or, sometimes a nightmare.   

I first became interested in living abroad after a summer working as a broadcast media trainer in Maldives. That was almost 7 years ago. It all seemed so simple. You travel. You make your home in unheard of locales. You make your life your own.

But, in reality your life remains tied down to various obligations.  Culture, language and family are factors that divide. Yet, they pervade the planet.  It’s not so simple as I thought on the plane back from Male. Because of said complexity, this post will be an amalgam of many things. So, bear with me.  

I’ve already mentioned that I spent part of my February-March break at my family’s home in Los Angeles.  For part of that time the Sochi Olympic Games were televised.  Much of the coverage focused on so-called ‘extreme’ sports. Usually Americans dominate them in the Olympics.  I’ve always thought them too subjective to be included in international competition. The scoring is often about the ‘coolness’ of a performance. Contestants gain points for tricks of their own invention. 

One such trick was named the 'Yolo' Flip. Its inventor had to change citizenships from Russia to that of a country in the West in order to create it.  My father joked that he didn’t understand the necessity of leaving one’s country whenever it was brought to light that an athlete had sought another nationality in order to move forward. To him, national loyalty was a singular commitment defined by one’s birthright.  For me, that view betrays other possibilities of success. Ideological  assuredness regarding one’s current situation prevents one from aspiring further.  

Most my age learned the first part of the Yolo flip’s name as a matter of popular discourse.  It wasn’t until college that a friend defined to me it as ‘the teenage Carpe Diem’.  Except, Carpe Diem wasn’t originally meant to signify it’s usually accepted modern meaning.  During graduate school, I was informed that the Latin term was not coined as an excuse for unmitigated risk taking. Instead it’s an exhortation to do what we can today.  Tomorrow cannot be dictated; your day may never come. Yet, you must plan for it.

Thus, the concepts of ‘Yolo’ and Carpe Diem are opposed. The first implies a false positive causality between present rash action and future success. The second focuses on the now. But, it denies a possible promise of what may come through rational action.  Between these two options, it is easy to adopt a siege mentality.  To protect and preserve in personal mythology what one perceives as past achievements amid dubious promises of the future.

 Transmuting the above philosophical conflict to a national level, it seems almost fitting that Ukraine and Russia came into conflict over Crimea and Ukraine’s Eastern regions after the Olympics. Ukraine moves toward its own future. Regardless of prohibitive losses to practical consequences, it lives in the moment.  Russia protects regional interests. Reasserting influence it conceives as its own, it works methodically toward a future that may not be as bright as past glories.

I traveled to the disputed areas in the above mentioned region a bit over a year ago. Many there are of a dual heritage.  Each lives one life.  Paradoxically, it seems that they must now choose between two opposing, yet related sides. Neither philosophical attitude towards the future provides a mutual solution.

There’s a third version of understanding the Yolo/ Carpe Diem concept. I heard it from from a Star Trek Voyager episode: ‘Own the Day’.  A battle cry, it carries baggage from past consequences but no expectations for what is to come. It allows for the possibility of re-defining conceptualizations. For making two identities one, wherever they may end up. Semantically, it does so by striking a balance between throwing caution to the wind and internalizing future pitfalls despite best efforts. ‘Own the Day’ acknowledges that one only does what one can, given certain goals and circumstances.      

One cannot control the future, nor deny its existence. One can only own the day. 

The Fourth Toast

I was freezing my ass off.  It was the first day of my two week sojourn through Ukraine. My bus failed to arrive.  Finally, I made my way to the hotel where I habitually stay while in Lwow.   

After an overnight train ride, all I could hope for was a few hours of sleep. My first Rotary presentation wasn’t until the next day. One of my professors assigned me two multi-page research reports, as I would be missing class. Quite annoyed, I started into the first of the reports and finished the next day. Then, I rushed to the Rotary meeting.

My first presentation went well.  At first I was surprised that there was no meal before my presentation. Then I found out why. “After the meeting we usually have a reception” one Rotarian told me. Then came a difficult choice: Vodka or Cognac?

Here I first learned of a Ukrainian tradition: Making toasts. We began by toasting Rotary, then friendship. The third toast was to women. I later heard that women cut men’s ties if the third toast isn’t for them. After that “just some words” are all that’s needed. It’s the exercise of the toast that’s important. “Without toasting its just booze” my Lwow contact informed me.

 A similarly ‘toasted’ Rotarian drove me back to my hotel.  I felt a renewed happiness to be in the moment. It washed away the difficult circumstances of my arrival.

This feeling prevailed through the rest of my trip. My presentation in Alushta was made over more than a few shots of grapa.  Afterwards, a resort owner insisted that I stay at his establishment. It was closed for the summer. The restaurant was opened for me every morning .

I rented a car in Crimea. There, got to feel the exhilaration of Ukrainian driving - passing on curves and barreling down narrow streets. One such avenue led to the famous Liavadia palace. It was a serene experience to walk in the footsteps of Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin.

Later, I met with Yalta’s Rotaract. They saw to it that my car was loaded down with more local wines than the passenger seat could hold. I was beginning to like this country.  

Yet, it’s still marked by it Ruso-communist past. This doesn’t stop at the stereotypical boozing.  In central-eastern Europe, or even Moscow, you must attend an exhibit to see Soviet monuments.  In eastern Ukraine Lenin still greets you in the main square.  

This part of the country is ethnically Russian.  Many don’t agree with communist political beliefs. They view these symbols as monuments of a time when Russia ruled the roost. In Yalta, the younger generation wished that the statues would be removed.  “We are Russian speaking, but I don’t like the Russians who come here” one opined.

 I didn’t get the chance to finish my presentation in Charkow. They stopped me.  Someone poured the vodka. It was the easiest money I’d ever earned.

The express to Kiev traveled at over 160 KPH. That wasn’t why I couldn’t get my bearings. As I made my way to the nation’s capital, I wondered really constituted Ukraine. I’d seen the four corners of the country. Despite a soviet commonality, it felt like I was in different countries for the whole trip.

I was still freezing my ass off as I walked the hills of Kiev. But, this time it was with a new respect of the levity that it entailed. The similar diversity of a nation constructed from its past.