Olga (6 page)

My students were particularly interested in the Ukrainian foods I prepare for our Christmas Eve meatless supper. The twelve dishes represent the 12 apostles, and include fish soup, borscht, cabbage rolls, and pyrogies.
Kutya
is a dish made of whole wheat cooked for many hours and prepared with honey and poppy seed. The dish symbolizes peace, prosperity, and good health, and everyone around the table must partake of the
kutya
if only but a
spoonful.

When the lunch bell rang and the class left for lunch, Kevin ran all the way home, burst through the door and announced to his startled mother, “Mom, Mrs. Kotelko eats the same things we do at Christmas Eve supper!” His mother later related this to me. What precious moments I experienced with my
students.

During the last 12 years of my teaching career I was a Hospital and Homebound Teacher. This involved helping students with their lessons and helping them stay connected with their peers while convalescing in the hospital or at home. The advantage of this teaching system was that it was learning on a one-on-one basis. This undoubtedly hastened the student’s healing as
well.

Sadly, there would also be funerals of very ill students to attend. I vividly remember one student who was determined to excel in math while convalescing from cancer treatments. What a determined young boy! How he loved to do math and how unfortunate was his early
death.

Most of the time, I found this work rewarding, especially when a parent would take the time to phone me. One mother said, “What have you done with my daughter Mary? She is so happy to get back to school. You must know how shy and quiet Mary was, and now she is like a new person”. I told Mary’s mother that I was able to detect Mary’s particular weakness in math, and I showed her another way to arrive at the correct answer in a way she was able to understand. “Mary showed me how to teach her,” I explained to her
mother.

I recall another incident that occurred soon after I started Hospital and Homebound teaching. Doug was 14 years old and doing grade 6 work at home. No school would accept him because of his unruly, undisciplined behaviour. Initially, I had difficulty locating his house that was situated at the back of a weedy, overgrown yard. I walked up the creaking, broken, front steps and knocked at the wood door a couple of times, feeling apprehensive and hesitant but not wanting to give up. The door open slowly, and Doug jumped out from behind the door to startle me. He succeeded! We began with social studies but soon that became tedious for him. We decided to play some number games. A huge dog came to sniff me, and he became rather unpleasant. It was time to leave. I could not get out of the ramshackle house and back to my car fast enough. Back in the office, I broke down in tears in front of my supervisor: “Never again am I going to work with Doug,” I exclaimed, hardly able to contain
myself.

My years as a Hospital and Homebound Teacher taught me a valuable lesson that I still treasure to this day: It takes all kinds of people to make the world. I learned to put into practice more compassion, devotion, and humility and to take the time to talk to people. I believe one becomes a more resilient person learning through unfamiliar
experiences.

“A loving silence often has more power
to heal and
to connect than the most well intentioned words.”
—
Rachel Naomi
Remen

During my 34 years of teaching elementary school I would become addicted to helping people satisfy their innate curiosity. I cherished the years when I witnessed their joy in achieving, through hard work and perseverance, the personal growth needed to become good citizens and respected contributors to society. I feel privileged to have had such an effect on those young
minds.

Your homework
assignment:

Make a new friend today. A new friend can boost your happiness levels. Renewing a relationship or starting a new one can herald a brand new
beginning.

Is there someone from your past, a family member or a friend you’ve wanted to contact but haven’t made time for? Search out a forgotten
friend.

If someone has hurt you, today forgive them. Forego a grudge. Apologize if you were
wrong.

How are you feeling about your life right now? Do you know what you love to do? What are your talents? Talent usually comes easily and naturally. It’s never too late to
discover.

Do you find your job satisfying? If not, why not? Is it time for you to retire? Being of service to society is important. Volunteers make the world go round, and there are so many worthy organizations that could use your help. Whether it’s teaching, consoling, cooking, painting or singing, share your gifts. Share the great camaraderie. You have more to give than you realize. Work hard, play fair and have
fun.

A kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child’s work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, “I’m drawing
God.”

The teacher paused and said, “But no one knows what God looks like.” Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, “You will in a
minute.”

FOUR
Travels and Adventures

Wishful thinking, travelling to faraway places.
Sailing around the world 1966 – 1967. Patrik Giardino
photo.

Lesson:
A wise person said, “If a man or woman has anything in him or her, travel will bring it out, especially ocean travel.” Travelling is fun; it broadens the mind. When we are young we travel to discover the world; afterwards, we travel to make sure it is still there. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the
world.

My working life was busy and full. For ten months of the school year, I taught my students. For the remaining two months, during the summer, I worked as a lab technician at the Royal City Cannery. After teaching in Burnaby for a number of years, I was offered an exciting opportunity to go on a Teacher Exchange to Nuneaton, England for the 1966 – 1967 school year. Instead of flying to England in the summer of 1966, my then 13-year-old daughter Lynda and I ventured to sail from Vancouver. I sold my car, a Chevrolet Impala, and with the money bought our tickets. We would circumnavigate the world by cruise ship, leaving from Vancouver in July 1966, travelling via the Orient and the Suez Canal to arrive in Southampton, England in August 1966. Our return from Southampton, at the end of August 1967, took us to Vancouver via the Panama Canal, just in time to resume teaching at Burnaby Suncrest
School.

We spent five weeks on the ocean liner
Iberia
, a beautiful ship that was a far cry from the humble boat that brought my parents to Canada. This monster ship contained a crew of 672 and 1384 passengers, of which 651 were in first class. Lynda and I joined the 733 passengers in the tourist/economy class that comprised mainly families with children, making the ship’s atmosphere busy, happy, and
congenial.

Immediately upon our departure in Vancouver on July 1st, we began the exploration of our vessel as it made its voyage across the calm Pacific Ocean to Hawaii. Our cabin consisted of two double-decker bunks for sleeping and not much room for anything else. We were content with the tiny space as we preoccupied ourselves with the many on-board adventures. Daily activities kept everybody busy and entertained. The children in first class soon realized what a jolly bunch we were in tourist/economy, and they joined us in
games.

During this sea voyage, I was no longer ‘teacher’. I was a mother and a traveller, two parts of my identity that I
loved.

After five days on the Pacific Ocean, we reached the warm shores of Hawaii. After disembarking, we took a day tour of the Island of Oahu. It was a treat to have our feet on solid ground again, if only for the day. In another five days we reached Yokohama, Japan and were greeted on shore by Miss Yokohama. We arranged a three-day overland tour from Yokohama to Kobe via Tokyo and Osaka, visiting many interesting sites. As it was the height of summer, we met numerous groups of youngsters at various exhibitions and tourist sites. Each time we met these black-haired youngsters, neatly dressed in white shirts and navy shorts, they would stand still and stare at my daughter Lynda, a tall, skinny, fair-skinned 13-year-old with a blond pixie haircut. Where did this blond fairy come from, they seemed to wonder. Our bus later stopped at a park where a group of young boys were playing ball. Lynda was soon surrounded by all of them as she tried to teach them to finger whistle. What fun they all
had!

We boarded the ship after it was provisioned in Kobe, and off we sailed to Hong Kong for a three-day visit. Again, we were overwhelmed by the Orient, its people, their customs, and
traditions.

One experience in Hong Kong was set in motion the previous winter and was due to an upcoming Royal event. I knew that during our exciting year in England, as a Commonwealth exchange teacher, I would be invited to a Royal Tea at Buckingham Palace. I badly needed fancy clothes and accessories to attend this prestigious social
event.

Fortunately, during that earlier winter, Lynda and I had enrolled in an art class in Vancouver where Lynda had befriended a young Chinese student named Gina, whose mother, Mrs. Chiu, lived in Hong Kong. Gina felt that her mother would be only too happy to help us with our shopping while in Hong Kong. Also, her mother dealt in pearls. I made arrangements with her that we would
meet.

The morning the
Iberia
docked in Hong Kong, I phoned Gina’s mother to confirm our plans. Mrs. Chiu was friendly and conveniently arranged for a taxi to deliver us to her
home
.

Before going to Mrs. Chiu’s, Lynda and I joined a group of passengers on a morning tour to explore a local mountain. As we climbed up a steep path, the tour guide pointed out the strong wind blowing the bushes. He forecasted that a typhoon or tornado was coming our way. “Coming our way” gave no indication of time, and none of us knew much about typhoons, so we innocently proceeded with our agenda for the
day.

Lynda and I joined Mrs. Chiu for lunch in a restaurant that she had selected. How different and how delicious were all the dishes Mrs. Chiu chose for us. We felt so humble and so grateful for her gracious hospitality. After lunch, she ushered us back to her office to discuss buying pearls. We were in awe when a fellow I will call “Mr. Pearl Man” opened his suitcase and uncovered a multitude of exquisite, dazzling round balls of various size, colour, and quality. I was truly dumbfounded, and I hesitated to make a choice. After Mrs. Chiu was acquainted with our financial circumstances, she stipulated the best choice for our two sets of pearls, the correct length and size of pearl for each necklace and earring set. I was indeed indebted to her for the care she took to do this for
us.

Then off we went to purchase new clothes for my Royal engagement. Lynda and I followed Mrs. Chiu through a bustling fabric shop where, after some time, we chose material for two beautiful garments. One was a lovely two-piece coat and dress ensemble and the other a two-piece white lace top and skirt suit. The dressmaker measured me from top to bottom for the necessary calculations for the garments that she would sew overnight. After the typhoon, my two beautiful perfectly-fitted outfits arrived at our cabin. What service! What workmanship! How grateful could we
be?

We spent the day on shore experiencing the sights and sounds of Hong Kong street life—the food vendors, busy markets and other famous tourist attractions like Rat Alley. Arriving at our ship around 11 p.m., we were alarmed to learn that a typhoon indeed was heading straight for Hong Kong and would reach the city by midnight. To be safe, the
Iberia
must sail out from shore to avoid crashing against the dock. We were asked to make a choice: stay on board and sail out of the harbour or remain on shore. The purser explained that these storms had occurred many times before and that, each time, he had sailed out to sea and returned to shore safely. Upon consultation, Lynda and I decided to remain on board ship and sail out with the brave
purser.

After departing the dock, I returned to our cabin and tried to read in my bed while Lynda went out on deck to “get some fresh air” and watch the approaching storm. We believed that the outer edge of the storm was still far out to sea. The typhoon, however, had strengthened to its peak and was arriving on our doorstep at 150
mph.

I was settling into bed, thinking that being out from the harbour as we were, the typhoon might not be much of a bother. Boy, was I wrong! I felt the ship lurch violently to one side and I landed on the floor. In an instant, the ship heeled to its lower side from the force of the wind. My first impulse was to get Lynda. I threw on a sweater, not even thinking that my adventure outside could be life-threatening. I had never experienced a typhoon, and the purser’s reassurance that all would be well had made me braver than I might have been if I had known what to expect. I opened the door and immediately careened against the opposite wall. The sea shanty ‘What Shall We Do With a Drunken Sailor,’ came to mind as I swayed and staggered down the passageway. The thought of finding Lynda flooded my brain as the constant rocking motion made me more and more fearful. The ship’s lurching felt like the inside of a jerky ride at the fair, only this ride was uncontrollable and
unpleasant.

I stepped onto the deck and was met with a strong wind that pressed me back against the doorway. I only had time to notice the deck furniture lined up like soldiers facing the inky sea wall when a fierce wave smashed the deck, soaking me in salt water. I slipped and slid toward the railing and held on as best I could, but everything was wet and difficult to
grip.

Thunderclouds were encircling overhead, but I could only sense them in the darkness. The deck was now awash with the power of the ocean: the waves kept coming at the ship from all directions. This was no fun ride at the
fair.

I turned a corner with the help of a swift current of air and saw Lynda sitting on one of the teak lounge chairs. The wind captured my voice as I called out to her. I managed to grab hold of a metal structure jutting out from the side of the ship and tried again. I shouted as hard as I could, ‘LYNDA’. This time she heard me and turned and waved to me. I motioned to her to come in, but my arm failed to move properly and looked more like I was raising my hand in class to ask a question. She waved again and looked back at the sea. I gingerly let go of the metal post, but seized it as hard as I could when a huge wave rose like a mountain over us and lunged for Lynda. I screamed as a mass of water sucked her to the railing. She and her chair slid to the brink of being overboard as the mountain and all its water receded back to sea. I stared in wonder as she hauled herself up, soaked from head to toe, and slid to my side. We grasped each other’s hands and maneuvered our way around the deck chair ‘soldiers’, some of which had been knocked overboard while others lay lopsided and helpless in a crumpled
mess.

We returned safely to our cabin and dried off. Lynda’s stomach would have preferred to be on deck, but I made her stay in her bunk until morning. The next day, she ventured to the dining room to find all of the tables and chairs roped together. Only a few passengers were up and around. I was only able to consume some tea and crackers in the
cabin.

When we had sailed away from the harbour to ‘avoid’ the storm, we left behind many bewildered, fellow passengers who had disembarked to enjoy a dinner tour and who had returned to find the ship gone. The shock was temporary: hotel staff provided them with accommodations in the hotel lobby and supplied toothbrushes, soap, and towels. Fortunately, damage in the harbour was minimal and no one was hurt. What an adventure! The purser was correct in this regard: the enormous ship endured the effects of the typhoon and sailed calmly to Hong Kong the next
day.

Later in the voyage, we stopped in Singapore and then Bombay (now Mumbai). We were eating breakfast when a Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, who lived in Bombay, came to call for us. I happened to be bringing some parcels from Mr. Hunter’s sister, Marie, in Vancouver and arranged to meet them. A crew member said “the hunters” were looking for us. We experienced a little cultural miscommunication, and I took it to be that
hunters
were looking for us, perhaps to shoot us! My imagination scurried past my common sense. A few laughs arose from the misunderstanding. The Hunters treated us to a sumptuous luncheon at their house, and we laughed over the scare since I knew they were quite
innocent!

I believe that travellers, especially novice, naïve, and inexperienced ones must always be vigilant. Lynda and I, at that time, tried to be aware and to make each encounter tolerable and safe. I have tried to retain that advice in my head and heart and, to date, I have enjoyed many pleasant journeys by air and
sea.

After departing from Bombay and a stop in Aden, our ship sailed up the Red Sea to Port Said, Egypt. Lynda and I disembarked to join a Cairo bus tour visiting the Pyramids and Sphinx. From the bus window, we were amused to see how our enormous ship seemed to glide through the sand as it was sailing up the Red Sea and then through the Suez Canal to Alexandria. The
Iberia
would be one of the last ships to go through the Suez Canal for some time due to the 1966 war in the Middle
East.

On the last leg of the journey, we sailed the Mediterranean Sea to Barcelona, Spain. We went through the Straits of Gibraltar to Lisbon, Portugal, north along the west coast of France and across the English Channel into Southampton. We collected our luggage from the ship and said farewell to the
Iberia,
our home away from home for seven
weeks
.

In London we stayed at a bed and breakfast. Time went by quickly with sight-seeing and whatever else two naïve, novice travellers can experience in only four days in the great city of
London.