"The Look"

I've mentioned in other posts that no one smiles in Ukraine, at least in public. In our attempt to blend in, we've been trying to figure out "the look" that everyone has, and exactly how to mimic it. I've studied this look that all Ukrainians have mastered. I saw it when I stepped off the plane; it was the look of being focused, or simply "in your own world." Us six girls tried to look the same as we stood focusing on the conveyer belt that would hopefully carry our luggage.

I tried to look focused. It didn't seem quite right, so I started studying this look as I walked the streets. I saw determination and haste. Everyone was just trying to get to where they were going quickly. Easy enough. I set my gaze straight forward and walked a little faster.

I still felt like there was something missing from my recreation of "the look." So, I studied it on the trolley bus. I saw anger. I tried to look the same as I pursed my lips and lowered my brows just a bit. I didn't know what to be angry at, so it probably looked about as fake as it felt. I tried to see what they were all so mad about, and then it became kind of scary. I came to the conclusion that "the look" was complete anger towards everything that ever existed. I mastered this look of being just mad after a few days. The harder part was staying happy on the inside while portraying "the look" on the outside. But I found ways to do that too.

That felt right for a while. I thought I figured it out, but I felt that I still portrayed a little too much Americanism, and  at least while out in public on my own, I wanted to get rid of that. I didn't have it quite right. So I began to study some more. I searched for it on the metro. Was it boredom? Sadness? A burning desire to go unnoticed and avoid socializing? Was it just exhaustion from a long day? What is this look that they all have?! I wanted to know so badly. Every night on my way home I looked for it. "The look" was everywhere, but I was searching for what was underneath it. It wasn't just being focused, it wasn't determination or haste, it wasn't even anger. There was something simmering just behind it.

One night, I was taking the trolley bus back to my Babushka's apartment as I always do. This was my favorite place to search for "the look." There are a lot of people in a small area, and they're all holding this look so flawlessly. I took advantage of my long trolley bus commute. And then I saw it.

I looked at each face, each expression nearly identical. And there it was. It was in the beautiful boy's eyes. And in the old woman's tired frown. It was in the way she stood, and how he held onto the bar to keep his balance. It was in the man's downward gaze. And the way she hardly blinked. It was buried beneath, yet right on the surface. I realized that to master "the look," you need not pretend to be angry or determined. Nor bored or sad. You don't need to have a staring contest with the window, or hold that balancing stance just right.

To master this "Ukrainian look", you must look as if your country is at war.

As I grow to love this country and its people more and more, perhaps I'll take on this look naturally. But forcing it now would be an effort in vain. I don't pretend to know how they feel, I can't imagine. I see only glimpses of what war does to a country and the people, and it's heartbreaking even still.

These people are proud of their land. Underneath the harsh countenances is a strong desire to help each other, to love, and to keep their beloved country their own. These people are good. I'm learning to love all aspects of this country, and I'm really glad I get to live, learn, and grow here for a few more months.