It’s official: I am a trophy husband.

OK, I’m being a bit glib, but that’s kind of how it was tonight. The only other woman on my wife’s work brigade/team is named Angela, and naturally they have become friends. In fact, Angela was the only one of the team who knew about me at all. (Apparently the men on the team would frequently tell her she needed to get married, and maybe even suggested possible dates.). So, when my wife returns to work (she’s currently on her official work holiday), it will be something of a shock to everyone that she now has a husband. To everyone, except Angela.

Tonight my wife’s hostess skills were on full power, as she had invited Angela and her husband Victor over for dinner… and to show me off, it would seem. It won’t say it was a bad evening — it was actually rather fun at times — but I was definitely the odd man out when it came to language. Angela knew a little English from her school days, but a few words does not a conversation make. And I probably didn’t help things by understanding about 2% of what was being said. I’m getting pretty good at knowing when to nod or laugh, and that often conveys the sense that I know what’s going on around me.

Of course, I can easily recognize my name in Russian — it’s still “James,” just with some “zh” where the “j” would be — so I knew that I was the subject of conversation. That happened quite a bit this evening, which is why I’m pretty sure that my wife was showing me off a bit. I hope I did OK.

I’ve also discovered the limit of when I will consider myself to be drunk: two glasses of champagne and three shots of vodka. Prior to this trip, I don’t think I’ve ever had vodka before. Maybe once, as a mixed drink, but it certainly didn’t make an impression. My hits of vodka on this trip will definitely be remembered. My first shot was Thursday, during that Ukrainian style Thanksgiving Day dinner, when I was invited to share a shot with my wife’s mother. How could I possibly say no to that? And then there was tonight, when three shots around dinner were part of the dining/celebration experience. This was after we had consumed the bottle of champagne brought by Angela and Victor. After the third hit if vodka, I definitely had a buzz that would have been a problem if we actually gone out to a club, as someone had suggested/threatened. But by then it was a little late, so after our goodbyes, a quick walk around the block with my wife was sufficient to clear most of the head fog. But now I know.

Well, off to bed. Sleep shouldn’t be too much trouble tonight. And tomorrow should be interesting: we’re spending the day in Donetsk in order to get some paperwork stamped. Oh boy!