Hungary, Hungary Hippos; or I Left My Heart by the Vistula; or Pat and Dan Come to Visit

The three of us in front of the Rodina Mat in Kyiv

At the Ukrainian Nationalist Restaurant Kriyvka in Lviv (Slava Ukraini!)

Train station in Krakow

Budapest and the Danube

Hungarian Parliament Building

It isn’t laziness that keeps me from writing, or documenting things, I think it is more embarrassment that I won’t be able to properly convey what I wish to. This is sometimes a problem for me. It is easy to set things out in a facts-only style but that takes the emotion out of them, and hence, I think, the importance. But, for what it’s worth, I’ll try here to reflect and to give proper credence to what I’m reflecting on. It’s also strange that this current post is not about anything life-threatening, or awe inspiring in any sort of traditional way.

Simply, it is just my trip with friends around Eastern Europe. Pat and the One Man Party (Dan Moriarty) recently came to visit. This was a month and a half ago. We stayed in Kyiv a few nights, followed by a trip to Lviv, a border crossing into Poland to enjoy a few nights in Krakow before parting ways after Budapest (I will not separate Buda from Pest, they were unified as one city far too long ago for me to find that distinction still relevant).

I have to say that a visit from friends is truly humbling. It is common that we, as men, have difficulty stating our true regard for those we are closest to. It is hard to refer to men as friends as opposed to buddies, pals, or the guys I have a beer with. But, there are some friendships which are far deeper than these descriptions imply. To have two people, not blood related fly over an entire ocean and continent to visit is flattering, but I as wrote earlier truly humbling. I have no desire to go into a discourse on friendship, and the values therein, but suffice it to say I truly appreciate having friends that are willing to brave 5,000 miles of travel to see me, and I hope I, abrasive as I can be, am worthy of having these types of relationships.

Now that this has been touched on briefly, and hopefully I haven’t lost too many “man points,” let’s get back into the real reason for this; a reflection on our trip together, and my first exit from Ukraine. We did the general tour of Kyiv. Touched on things like the parliament, Verkhovna Rada, Marinsky Park, enjoyed a trip to an Irish pub – yeah, I take two Irish guys from New England to an Irish pub when they travel abroad, I have no shame. We also saw the Chernobyl Museum, which was far improved from my previous visit. We took a walk down Andriyvsky Uzviz, which is St. Andrew’s Descent, leading from behind St. Michael’s to Podil, we even went up the funicular the funicular, or course goes to Podil.

We saw Kyiv’s Orthodox splendor by way of the golden domes of St. Volodomyr’s Cathedral, St. Sophia’s, and St. Michael’s. We went to the Cave Monastery, as well. Unfortunately, the first time we went to the caves, however, we missed being able to enter by about a half hour. We made a meandering way down a hill and serendipitously ran into a metro stop that brought us back into the main part of the city for dinner, and perhaps that was when Moriarty received an injection, at the Doctor’s Bar. We were able to make it the caves the next day, and enjoyed the slow march through the catacombs with the holy men of Russian Orthodoxy.

After two and a half days in the capital we made our way west to the heart of Ukraine, at least Ukrainian Ukraine, the center of patriotism and Ukrainian culture, Lviv. Lviv is the city of Lions. It has been known as Lemberg while it was a part of the Austro-Hungarian Emprie, it has been known as Lwow when part of Poland, Lvov during Soviet times, and it is finally Lviv. All the positive things I said about Lviv in my last post continue to be true. It is still by far my favorite city in Ukraine. We really did not have much time in Lviv. Had I thought the trip out more, or had I been to Lviv before my parents came I would have cut out one of the nights in Kyiv for more to in Lviv, but alas it was not to be. Even still, the short amount of time we did have was more than enough to enjoy the city. As in the earlier post, we truly did get a Central European feel while in Lviv. It was a good way to acclimate myself for what was to come: a trip into the EU!!!

We walked across the border from Ukraine into Poland, after a two hour marshrutka. If you have read previously you may remember what a marshrutka is, but in case you’re unaware just imagine a bus, and cram as many people as you can into that bus, and then cram more people into that bus, and then make it 96 ºF and then don’t allow anybody to open a window. Also, make sure nobody is smiling. You’ll have a bit of picture of a marshrutka, but it is still not enough to read about it. It is a must have experience. The border is about two hours from Lviv. It is pretty exciting walking across a border, it almost feels illicit, like I’m running from or escaping from something (don’t read into that statement).

For me, there was a palpable difference as soon as I crossed from Ukrainian border control, into the Polish version. I attribute it to the European Union, but I’m not economist, psychologist, political scientist, or anyone else that would be able to put an accurate cause to the attitudinal difference. The border guard first smiled and when he saw my passport asked me in English what I was bringing with me. He searched my bag (Ukraine has really, really, really, really, really cheap tobacco so that is sometimes brought in undeclared), and then told me to enjoy my time in Poland. It was really incredible. The next person to talk to was the guard that checked and stamped the passport. She took my passport, and also smiled (which started to worry me), she then said “Peter,” and looked up, “Pan Peter,” (pan is a Polish title, similar to the way we use mister, but actually closer to sir) “Peter Pan!” She stamped my passport, gave it back and told me to enjoy my time in Poland, as well. It was really a great welcome to a country that I did not have high expectations for.

There was a bus waiting to take us into a larger town where we would catch our train into Krakow. I was further impressed in this little town. Before we bought our tickets, we changed money. I was further impressed when the guy behind the counter noticed I didn’t understand what he was saying (in Polish), and switched into German. When he saw I still didn’t know he said he did not speak English, but when I said I knew Ukrainian he gave me perfect directions, in Ukrainian. This, keep in mind, was not Krakow, this was in a small town close the Ukrainian border.

The train to Krakow was not the fastest, or the most comfortable, but it brought us in nonetheless and dumped us at a station with wonders I hadn’t seen in months. Things like Mountain Dew, and Dr. Pepper. The list goes on, but I’d rather stop there. Our hostel was a twenty, maybe thirty minute walk from the train station, but we found it no problem, got ourselves situated and headed out into the city to have some dinner, and do some looking around.

Krakow far exceeded my expectations. As far as this trip went, it was my favorite of the places we visited. It was small scale, and damn old. The city is carved by the Vistula, and is the former stomping grounds of Pope John Paul II. We spent most of our time in the Old Town. A relatively small area dominated by a large square, towers, cathedrals, and anchored by the Wawel Castle. The Old Town was also partially enclosed by a wall, of which one gate is still remaining. The city felt vibrant. It is a city full of university students, and there is a certain energy and optimism one can feel there. There were coffee shops, and public bathrooms that wouldn’t take years off a human life. One of the highlights of this portion of the trip was a golf-cart tour of Krakow. This brought us through the Old Town, the Jewish Quarter and down to Schindler’s Factory.

Unfortunately, our time in Krakow was brief. We did not have time to do the Salt Mines, or to visit Auschwitz, but I have decided that I would be remiss not to visit Auschwitz being that it is so close. Perhaps next summer, perhaps in winter, but I will do it. I feel that seeing something like Auschwitz is something that has to be done when there is sufficient time to digest it, and it probably would have been cheapened to do it on the run.

I would be lying if I said I did not eat KFC in Krakow. It was deep fried, and disgustingly delish, the flavor only surpassed by the shame, and they didn’t even offer the Double Down. Next to the train station there is a mall. I have heard that there was once a nice square where this mall was, but as I have never experienced the square, I will say I enjoyed the mall, and did not begrudge it its place. The mall was full of western brands, and even had an English language bookstore with books about current events, foreign policy. It was all I could do not to spend far too much money there.

There is an outdoor café which is part of a hotel next to this mall. We sat there waiting to catch our next train, and make our way to Budapest. This was the same time as the World Cup Final. It was disappointing, but we had to leave at halftime to catch our train, and were not able to see Spain emerge victorious. Perhaps this was better; I would have felt bad watching the Netherlands drop the ball yet again. I have a soft spot for the Low Countries, I don’t know why. We did, however, catch our train, and acquainted ourselves with some Danes in the next compartment over. These Danes disappointed me beyond words. I asked them if they considered Denmark Scandinavian, and they said yes. I have vehemently denied Danish Scandanvianism for months now. Last time I checked there were three countries in that peninsula, and Denmark wasn’t one of them. I’ve decided to let this one lie, I don’t think I can refudiate (that’s a word, right Mrs. Palin?) this one. It was disappointing to say the least, even more so because I hate admitting defeat, especially on such trifling matters.

We arrived in Budapest the next morning, perhaps around ten perhaps I’m just not good at remembering. Maybe Pat will let me see his notes someday. He’s always been much more scientific in his observations. The train station in Budapest which most of the international trains come into and go out of is a big old station, and it is dirty, smelly, and busy. It was not an auspicious start to the city, but within 30 minutes we were in the heart of the beautiful area of the city. As we made our way closer to the Danube the more beautiful the city became. I must profess my ignorance, before I came to Ukraine I had not heard much about Budapest, especially Budapest as a travel destination. But, it is definitely a place to see. It is full of spires, and cathedrals, and castles, and a beautiful esplanade. It has parks, and bath houses. The gorgeous river, and the list goes on.

The architecture of Budapest was unlike anything I have ever seen before. Not in total, but there were many, many spires, and actually upon reflection the tops of buildings were maybe most similar to some I saw in Tbilisi. We started our time in Budapest in a large touristy market. Full of traditional and authentic knickknacks, my companions were in their glory. And, cheap as I have become I was in shock at the amount of money changing hands all over the place. I decided to join in on the fun, though, and got a super touristy t-shirt, and a little drawing of the Hungarian Parliament building (if you have never seen the parliament building from Budapest you should look it up online, it is gorgeous). This short spell of knickknacking was followed by a lunch of traditional Hungarian food. To be clear, I’m not positive when Hungarian is appropriate, and when Magyar is appropriate. I know the language is called Magyar, but because I have no interest in being a cultural authority I will call everything else Hungarian.

Hungarian food is quite tasty. For me, this meal consisted of a big ole leg of goose, some roasted potatoes, and a dish of tomatoes and garlic. If I remember correctly, Pat and Dan both got the goulash (which I didn’t know was Hungarian), and some sort of veal dish which may not have been mutually exclusive. After rinsing our mouths out with the juice of the barley we were ready to go do some exploring of the city. We decided on the Hop On – Hop Off bus. It was actually a much more thorough tour than I expected. It was even very informative. We had headphones plugged into the bus that told us what we were seeing. My only complaints with the recorded tour were the corny jokes at the end of the each explanation. But, I did learn some interesting tidbits. For once, did you know that the Budapest Zoo had one of the few zoos in the world where hippos mate? It’s the thermal waters from one of the bathhouses that are thought to put these hippos in such a romantic state.

We spent some time in the Buda Castle, and underneath the castle we enjoyed a labyrinth. The labyrinth, had been redone to be an art exhibit, but it was quite cool. We got to carry lanterns, and go exploring underneath the castle. There was a wine fountain deep in the labyrinth, but this wine was supposedly not for drinking. There was also a modern art exhibit which mocked modern man, and its total focus on a comsumeristic society. The exhibit was in English and Magyar, and it claimed there is no longer art in the modern western world, nor is there any place for intellectual study or development, this was a little too hippy for me. We finished the labyrinth as the sun was setting, and were able to sit in a café overlooking the Danube watching evening descend on Budapest. It was pretty awe inspiring, especially the Parliament building lighting up. It is a majestic city, and I’m embarrassed I did not, and do not know more about its history, especially the times of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

I took the train back to Ukraine, and Pat and Dan flew back stateside from Budapest. There was a really difficult fifteen minutes I had, when we parted. I sat down at a Coffee Heaven drinking an iced coffee, and lamenting the fact that we were getting on two different time machines. They were going back in time 7 hours, and I was going back about 30 years. After that fifteen minutes finished I remembered that, as a man, I had to push those emotions deep, deep down where they belong, and get on with it.

With my tail between my legs I made my way to the train station, and got ready to return to the land where salo reigns, and customer service is scarce. I was in a train compartment with a Russian guy living in Ukraine, and actually had an enjoyable time talking and hanging out with him. He insisted I help him with his beer, though there wasn’t much arm twisting necessary, but I did draw the line when he asked if I’d like to help him out with the hard stuff. I felt that would be a bad idea, especially being that we were avoiding topics that we knew we’d disagree about, though I won’t go into what those issues are in the interest of anyone non-American reading these words. Getting back into country was difficult. I’m no longer even talking about the emotional implications of getting on that train. At the border we stopped for 3 hours. The train tracks in the former Soviet Union are a different gauge than those in the rest of Europe, and so, not only did we have border control, we had to wait while every single one of the wheels on the train was changed. This happened around midnight, and caused the train to lurch, and go, and stop, and start and repeat. It was virtually impossible to sleep during this point, and I had no energy to get off the train, so I was left to stare at the ceiling and pretend I was asleep. But, I made it through, and back into Zhmerynka safe and sound.

That’s all I know about this, but, when we return, sometime in the near future, I’ll go over my trip to Georgia (Republic of). Hope things are well. And, just keep the number 46 in mind.

Be well, and be good.

Pete

My Parents' Visit

After a brief hiatus I am back again. My apologies for the long delay, I was running around for a bit of the time, lying down for part of it, and reading books throughout the remainder; oh, what a learned man I’ve become. So, today is the 26^th of July, I’m not sure when I’ll post this, probably within the next day or two, but I’ll date it just in case it is longer. I’ll break the past month into a couple of posts; today will focus on my trip around Ukraine with my parents, and Celia (my sister).

About three weeks ago, I saw my parents off from Boryspil International Airport. That means we all made it through in one piece, physically and emotionally. Ukraine is not the most tourist friendly place in the world, so I will admit that having my family here was a bit stressful. This is something I blame on Ukraine, and not on my family, to be clear. I say this because it is virtually impossible, to find any sort of English in the country, other than on menus in some of the restaurants.

Before I go further, I should give a few thank yous. Of course, to my parents, I packed them down with an entire suitcase’s worth of things I had requested from books, to chili powder, and appreciate them lugging it over here for me. Also, to Mark at Updike’s Newtowne, a tremendous amount of good coffee came my way, which I cannot say how much I appreciate. I just finished the Papua New Guinea, and opened the Newtowne’s House bag this morning. Coffee is one of the best ways to bring myself home for a few minutes. On that note, thank you, also, to Mr. Eastman for making your coffee contribution – my morning’s give their regards. Also thank you to Diane Schaeffer, again your kindness is appreciating, and humbling. It is always nice to have a pair of flip-flops especially when the summer is as hot as it is here. Thank you to Auntie Sue for giving me a gummy-bear/various American candies fix, and to anyone I have forgotten it is not intentional, and my apologies.

We started the trip in Kyiv (Kyiv is the same as Kiev, but it is the Ukrainian spelling, appropriate for a Ukrainian city, no?) and spent a few days in the city that begat the Kyivan Rus, the civilization that fathered modern Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine. We saw almost the entire city, and perhaps the total touristy area. While we were in Kyiv, our first day was low key – I did not want to push my jet-lagged family too far, too fast. However, we did get a nice tour of the city from our cab driver Ivan. He gave us a pretty decent rate, the only problem was that he refused to speak in Ukrainian to me. He answered every question I asked in Russian, which is a bit draining, because I don’t know Russian.

This first night we ate at a river boat on the Dnipro. The restaurant was good, but it was a pain to get to. We had to walk about a mile from the metro stop, past countless other restaurants, to a place where there was no commerce, through a road-work zone, and then finally at the end of the road work zone we reached the restaurant. It served traditional Ukrainian dishes, they gave us a shot of horilka (Ukrainian word for vodka), and a piece of salo on bread. Salo is pig fat, and Ukrainians love it! But, we also had real meal food as well. I had some pork shashyk, which is pork cooked over an open fire on skewers, it is a great way to prepare pork, we had holuptsi, ground beef and rice rolled in a boiled cabbage leaf served usually in a tomato sauce. I’m sure Mom or Dad had some borsch, with a dollop of sour cream. We had pelmeni, little meat dumplings, and for dessert there was cherry-filled dumplings which were pretty enjoyable.

Our second day we spent most of our time at the cave monastery, the Pecherska Lavra. Before getting to the monastery though, I managed to get us pretty lost, which was great fun, and not embarrassing at all. The Pecherska Lavra is a very holy site for the Russian Orthodox Church, it is linked to the Moscow patriarchate, not the Ukrainian patriachate. It is the traditional golden-domed cathedral, but on a much larger scale. It was taken over by the Soviets, and very little was destroyed during the Second World War, or by the Soviet atheism which has made a portion of the monastery a secular museum – museums, according to John Steinbeck in A Russian Journal were the churches of the Soviet Union. But, I digress. Our tour guide was very knowledgeable about the Lavra, and gave a nice tour. But, if I am being honest, I will say that it went a bit long for me. The big highlight of the cave monastery is the caves. In the caves many of the monks who have lived at the monastery are buried, and some have been naturally mummified. This was what I was very interested in, but it took us about 2 and a half hour to finally get through the tour and down to the caves. When we finally got to the caves it was a bit lackluster. Honest as we are we chose to do the “Excursion Route,” and not the “Prayer Route.” The Excursion Route was really quite short, we were in and out of the caves in about 10 minutes. This was a lesson I learned (with the help of a more knowledgeable friend, for the visit of Pat and Dan a week later).

The second evening was a Saturday evening, and if you remember it was the Saturday evening in which our dear country’s national soccer team was beat by Ghana. Watching the game was very important to me. So, while the family enjoyed a truly culturally evening taking in a Tchaikovsky ballet at the National Opera, I went to an Irish Pub full of Americans to watch the game. About half time the ballet finished, and luckily it was only about a five minute walk from the pub I watched the game at. I collected the family and we watched as the American soccer team showed us the worst performance of the World Cup. I was a bit heartbroken by the result. Losing is not something I enjoy (though I am an avid Providence College basketball fan), so when I got back to the hostel I stayed at, I went to the CIA World Factbook and I looked up Ghana’s per capita GDP, and life expectancy, and I realized that ultimately, while Ghana, on Sunday morning would still be in the World Cup, that is about the only victory they have; it made me feel slightly better, even if it does sound bad to admit.

Sunday was our third day together. We had a large part of the day in Kyiv, and then around 5 PM we packed into a train car for the 18 journey to the Autonomous Republic of the Crimea – Simferopol to be exact. But, before we did that we took a bit of a walking tour of the city. We went to St. Volodomyr’s Cathedral and then up to the National Opera House. After the Opera we went down to Saint Sophia’s. Saint Sophia’s is in a square that looks out upon the statue of Bohdan Khmelnitsky and then further down to Saint Michael’s Cathedral. My dad was particularly interested in Saint Sophia’s because it was said to be modeled on the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul (not Constantinople), but we were not able to see that. Saint Sophia’s also is no longer open as a place of worship, it was turned into a museum during Soviet times, and it has not been reconsecrated. Unfortunately, we were not able to see any part of the museum that looked like the Hagia Sophia, but it did have a really nice lawn.

We headed up to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, and then down to Kreschatyk, one of the main commercial streets in the country. On the weekends Kreschatyk is closed to motor traffic, so we were able to walk right in the middle of this large thoroughfare and over to Independence Square. Independence Square was the site of the protests during the Orange Revolution of 2004, so may be familiar to those who were interested in international affairs 5 years back (I was more interested in college basketball back then). Independence Square is the home to a statue of Michael the Archangel, protector of Kyiv, and also of a large monument to a woman which was erected to celebrate, shockingly, independence. It was a pretty slow day, and we followed this up with a walk down to the train station. I am disgustingly cheap now, so I did not recommend a cab, or taking the metro, so unfortunately, my poor mother got a couple of blisters on her feet, having done the long walk in sandals.

After our 18 hour train ride we arrived in Simferopol, found an apartment, and headed down to Bakhchisaray. This town is now the center of Crimean Tatar culture. The Tatars were deported from the Crimea to Uzbekistan by Stalin shortly after World War II, and just recently allowed to come back. When they left all of their land was taken, and much of the culture had been destroyed; as well as many of the people killed during transit. However, the Tatar people are making a renewed name for themselves, and this is a great example of their success. Bakhchisaray is the home to a phenomenal palace, the Khan’s Palace. A khan was the leader of a khanate, basically like a king, but more truly, from what I can tell more akin to a prince in a small principality if we are to use western Europe as our frame of reference. Khanates were traditionally in areas dominated by Islam – Crimea, Turkey, the Caucasus, Persia, Central Asia, and the like. The palace itself was great. It was full of fountains, and beautiful carpets, and includes a number of mosques, and a few minarets.

After the Khan’s Palace we ate at a restaurant serving traditional Tatar food. We had beef, and lamb shashlyk, we had plov (which is basically rice pilaf), and the lavash-style bread. It was delicious, and the restaurant was open air and looked right over the palace. There are also some pretty extraordinary rock formations in this area of the country, so it was really a beautiful place to spend the day.

The next day we grabbed a bus to Yalta. Yalta is where the famous peace conference was held at the end of World War II, with the Big Two, and Churchill, who somehow managed to convince Stalin, and Roosevelt he was significant, to the matter. Yalta is a city right on the Black Sea, and is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Ukraine, and in the entirety of the former Soviet Union, for that matter. It is famous for the Swallow’s Nest, a castle that sits on a cliff jutting out over the sea. We caught a cab out to the area of the Swallow’s Nest, and it was definitely a beautiful place to see. We also passed a summer house owned by Medvedev (president of the Russian Federation). It is too bad, but we did not have much time while we were in Yalta, and were unable to go to the beach, or jump into the sea, but it was a beautiful place to be.

This brought us to back to the train station, and towards the west of the country. We made a quick pit-stop in my town, Zhmerynka, and had dinner with some friends in town, which was nice. We did not have much time in my area, so we took a bus to the local city, went to the park, quickly, and then made our way back for dinner. The real reason we went to the city was so I could show the area near me, which is beautiful in the summer.

After this break we went to Lviv. Lviv is now my favorite city in Ukraine. It is in the west of the country, and it is the center of Ukrainian national identity, and patriotism. The other great thing about it is that people speak Ukrainian in Lviv, and they speak clear Ukrainian without using Russian words – it is wonderful. Lviv is much more Central European than Ukrainian in appearance. We spent most of our time in the old town, and I did not see one Soviet-style apartment block. For me the reason to be in Lviv was to relax and be in a nice city, that is beautiful, but we did end up going to a museum while we were there. The museum was in a top secret location on every map, but impossible to find. There were no signs on the street, and we had to go up tree-lined residential streets until we made our way through a forest. It was a really convenient location. One of the highlights for me was the restaurant we went to. I forget the name, but at the restaurant we had to knock on the door and give a password – Slava Ukraini (glory to Ukraine) heroam slava (glory to the heroes). When we entered we were met by a man in fatigues with a Kalishnikov. He wanted to make sure we were not moscals, an epithet for Russians, and Russian-speaking Ukrainians. After he was properly satisfied we were welcomed in and given a shot of cinnamon schnapps to warm us. We enjoyed our meal, including the half-meter sausage ordered by my dad. That was a hell of a lot of sausage.

Our second day in Lviv was much the same as the first (the museum was actually on the second day), but we ended it at a café on the central square. The food was good, the price reasonable, and we were given the added bonus of being within earshot of an American bride-hunter and his newly betrothed. I find bride-hunters despicable in general, but this dude was out of hand. His topic of conversations were his motorcycle, followed by impressive combinations of profanity, complaints about Obama in which a certain n-bomb was dropped, back to his motorcycle. This guy disgusted, and infuriated me, and it is probably good that my mother was there so I kept my mouth shut, and did not cause a scene. It was really embarrassing though, that many people who have never met an American will see/hear this guy and think we are like that – here’s hoping he doesn’t wear his helmet on his next ride.

We made or way back to Kyiv on a high-speed train that went through the night, and was about three hours faster than most trains on that route. This was our last day in Kyiv, as early the next morning the family was shipping out. We put our stuff in the hotel, and made our way out into the city. While getting tokens for the metro (the subway), I gave the woman exact change, and asked for four tokens. She gave me three, and then stared at me. So I told her to give me the fourth. She just stared at me blankly. So I looked at the money she had collected from me, counted it, and told her to give me the third token. She refused to give me the token. It took me yelling at her (don’t worry I addressed her with the formal you), and an increasing line before she would give the fourth token. It was incredibly infuriating, but I felt so much better after I yelled at her. It was really empowering, I should try that more often here. But, once we met up with friends we headed to Independence Square, followed by Marinksy Park, and Palace, where the president of Ukraine lives (usually, but not now because it is undergoing repairs). We then headed down to the museum for the great famines during Soviet times – it was dedicated to famines but focused mostly on the Great Famine – The Holodomor – of 1932-33. It was a pretty well done museum, simple, but very powerful, and it included books for all the oblasts of Ukraine and listed the numbers of people killed in various towns and villages, and names of many of the victims. The museum was built in the shape of a candle, and on the outside has a stork flying upwards in symbolism of the rebirth of the Ukrainian nation. Russian President Medvedev, has even visited, which is noteworthy, because Putin refused to recognize the famine as purposely created which was a source of conflict between former Ukrainian President Yushenko, and his Russian counterparts.

Following the museum we went on to Tequila House, a Mexican restaurant in the Ukrainian capital. I had a big frozen margarita, and a burrito. Friends of mine from Zhmerynka came with us, and they had not had Mexican food in the past, so we decided it would be an appropriate stop. The burritos were good, too. It was too much food for me, which is a bit embarrassing, but it’s true. Afterwards, we made our way back to the hotel. Spain and Paraguay were playing in the World Cup, but we were too exhausted to do anything other than pack up and prepare to leave in the morning.

So, on the Fourth of July, I sent the family home. Luckily they made it through the airport as the final group allowed on their plane before the gates were closed . . . it would have been a bit embarrassing if they had been unsuccessful. But, that is all I know about that trip – perhaps soon I will write about the journey to Krakow and Budapest, with Pat Mulligan, and Dan Moriarty, we shall see.

Be good, and be well.

Pete

World Cup Weekly

There were a number of things I was planning on writing about since my last post . . . The Tchaikovsky museum (here is a picture of what is perhaps Swan Lake, but painfully beautiful regardless),

the indoctrination of some of my students at a Russian Orthodox convent (difficult to see for one who believes strongly in a separation of church and state), and a number of other things, but alas I am remiss in my documentation. By the way, I do have some new albums up on Facebook. The links are here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2090843&id=17600435&l=080a13623e

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2090840&id=17600435&l=24a883c08

You don’t need to be a Facebook member to see the pictures, just click on the link and you should be fine.

What else has happened in the meantime? Well, one Ski Krieger, and I regret that he will not read this public denunciation, had decided that he would like to step out of my shadow (a shadow so big it encompasses all of Ukraine, or Україна, as they say here) and gone home to sunny Salt Lake City (I hear they have the best beer in Utah). I have lost my passport bidding young Ski adieu. I have watched the United States soccer team draw two matches (really, we can’t beat Slovenia, it’s hardly even an independent country). I have watched almost every other World Cup game. I have bought tickets to Georgia (Republic of, not state of) for an August vacation. I have bought tickets home to the land of the free in October for a 10 day visit. And finally, I have looked as Un-Ukrainian as humanly possible at a local bar, all the while counting down the days to the arrival of my parents and sister and then of course the arrival of the one we have affectionately called Bayside, and the One Man Party: Dan Moriarty. For those of you who have not yet planned to visit me, do not be alarmed you still have 17 months left, but don’t delay they go faster than you think.

First, on to the departure of the young Ski: Good riddance, we don’t take kindly to intellectual folk like you, anyway. My only regret with Ski is that at no time did I make abundantly clear the level of absolute disdain I have for him, and his kind (smart Libertarians). But, in seriousness, I do regret Ski’s departure, however he moves on to greener pastures in the world of academe. The young scholar is however, required to make a trip back to Eurasia before I leaveUkraine, namely to the tumultuousKyrgyz Republic.

As I mentioned, it was in seeing Ski off (kind of) that I lost my passport. It is not a comfortable feeling to walk around without your passport, and have all the places you call not know where it is (or what you’re saying in a pidgin form of their language). It was unfortunate, but I resigned myself to getting a new passport, with the help of the embassy in Kyiv, and hoping for it to come prior to my trip to Krakow and Budapest. To see Ski off I went up to Kyiv, to meet up with him, and our friend Sam. We did many things in Kyiv, but most revolved around walking around the main sights Independence Square, and Kreschatyk, and then drinking beer. Unfortunately the bar was out of Guinness, and Newcastle just does not travel well. When it was time to leave, we decided that we all might as well go back to where I live, so really it was an anti-climactic farewell. So, we jumped on a trail at 11:30 PM, after a classy meal of McDonalds and wine near the train station. We stumbled into my town (because of sleepiness, not the oil of conversation), at about 4:30 in the morning, and anyone that tells me how peaceful the sunrise is, is a liar! It didn’t make the walk any nicer, or shorter.

The following day we headed to a town a bit southeast of us, called Haisyn (or Gaisyn if you prefer Russian), to keep another male volunteer company as his wife hosted a girls’ night/Mary Kay party/ baking party. We, or at least I, had a good time, with good people. The ride to town was through more of the Ukrainian countryside which is now full of storks. These birds are phenomenally large, and must scare the hell out of the babies they are delivering, unless the babies are asleep. The image on my grandparents’ Ensign (sailboat) of the stork and baby did not do justice to the size of these things . . . I was shocked. I’ll include a picture of one of the storks I have seen here, but I don’t know that it will do justice.

In terms of the passport, as I mentioned above, it was terrifying being without it. Ukrainian police, have the ability to ask any one for their documents at any time. Furthermore, they have the authority to detain anybody for 72 hours without charges. (I don’t mean this as a criticism, simply by means of explaining my apprehension.) The reason for this is in an attempt to curb the amount of undocumented workers in Ukraine, and it is a legitimate police mission. But, being without the passport I just saw myself getting stopped in Kyiv, stumbling over my clumsy Ukrainian and starting an international incident of sorts. I was not relieved when, after calling the bank we had been to, and the restaurant we had eaten at there was still not sign of my passport. So, throwing caution to the wind, I decided to go to Kyiv to watch the USA – England game last weekend. As soon as I got to Kyiv, and went to the Peace Corps office, the guard told me they had my passport . . . and they did; Turkmenistan visa, and all. Really, the Turkmenistan visa was my biggest cause of concern, I kind of like having it. It is pretty cool, and a good conversation starter.

Kyiv was unbearably hot last weekend. I took a cool shower at the office, and by the time I was upstairs again I was unsure of whether I was damp from the shower, or the sweat. I did not have much to do, so I decided to spend the day watching World Cup games at an Irish pub. I had fried calamari rings, a beer or two, and an Irish coffee here. It was incredible, like a taste of being home (with the calamari) and a reminder of the trip to the Jameson Distillery with my brother, and my dad (with the Irish coffee). The only issue is that those two items alone cost what I am paid for two days. I saw Korea win 2 – 0 over Greece, and Argentina give a disappointing 1 – 0 victory over Nigeria. I will say here, that prior to Thursday night I had been completely underwhelmed by this World Cup. The goals per game average was at a mediocre 1.6 or so. But, Switzerland has beat Spain, Serbia beat Germany, and the matches became a littler more exciting. As a soccer fan, I appreciate games that are tight defensive affairs, but sloppy soccer, and no goals is no fun for anyone, even a soccer fan. However, we are getting into the nitty-gritty and these games are going to start getting fun (case in point the US – Slovenia game last night, and even the scoreless England – Algeria game was great to watch).

After the first two games, I decided to head back to the Peace Corps office for a bit. I took advantage of the internet to buy my tickets to Georgia (I’m really excited about this, the Caucasus was where I initially wanted to go, other than Central Asia). On my way out for the next game I met up with two other volunteers who had just seen a ballet. We went to the other Irish pub in Kyiv to watch the game. This was phenomenal it was full of expat Americans and Limey Brits (I know, I know, Englishman). We were a few minutes late, but came in just in time for that ridiculous goal by Gerrard. I was in so much shock I couldn’t even ask the waitress for a table. I was just staring at the television like a child who has just seen that the Mickey Mouse at DisneyWorld is only an actor. You would have thought my dog, if I had a dog, had died. Ultimately, one of my less distraught companions was able to acquire a table in the front corner of the basement, right in front of a huge TV. When Clint Dempsey scored perhaps the funniest goal I’ve ever seen, there was an aura of disbelief in the entire pub. The Americans almost immediately started celebrating the equalizer, though. To say we were happy with the draw would be a lie, but we weren’t too upset.

This brings us to the beginning of the week that just passed. I spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at school. We were helping the 9^th grade students prepare for their state examination. When I say preparing them, they were indoctrinating them. The teacher basically wanted me to write 6 sentences about the topics, and the students to memorize exactly what I wrote. It is something I know I should take a stand on, but I can’t bring myself to start this conflict right before summer vacation. There are only so many walls you can beat your head against before you get a concussion. Picking my battles has been a tough decision. Luckily, after these sessions I have been able to use the sedative effects of international soccer, and watch the games. Getting caught up in the games is enough to keep my mind off the systemic things I am not happy about.

Wednesday, however, was pretty irredeemable. I went school for the exam, corrected all of the exams as the other teachers just sat around doing nothing, and then was told after that they needed me to go home to get a book and bring it back to school that day. On my way home I stopped by the market to pick up something for lunch. I wanted some pre-sliced salami. It was in the cooler, and I grabbed it. When I brought the package to the check-out girl she had trouble scanning it. So, she looked at the package, and clearly saw the price. Did she say: “It costs 10.99 UAH.”? No, she said, you cannot buy this. All the red Irish ire rushed to my face and I said a bunch of really angry bad English words, but luckily, I’m improving my self control and was able to say them under my breath. But, this really killed the rest of my day. I was so angry, and in fact even writing about it now it still infuriates me. It was the type of day in which I wanted to punch ever single person I saw between the market, and my apartment. However, punching host-country nationals out of frustration does not fulfill any of the three parts of the Peace Corps mission, so I refrained. After the annoying day, my friends in town took me out to pick mushrooms. This was really the saving grace of the day. The country here, as I have said again and again, I know, is just absolutely beautiful. And, even though the only mushrooms I located were poisonous and would have killed us, it was still a nice break from the every day.

But, I also mentioned I was able to make myself the most Un-Ukrainian looking person ever at a local bar. I should preface with the fact that my Ukrainian friends have told me that I will never look like a Ukrainian. An American, they say, is obvious from the hope and confidence gleaming for their eyes. This may be an accurate description. But last night after spending time with my friends I returned to the pub where I watched the US – Slovenia game. I had ordered a couple of beers while watching the US game, because I don’t want people to start questioning my manhood, but they of course knew I was American when I started cheering loudly for the US goals, especially the equalizer. I, of course, apologized for my boisterous behavior, but they seemed to enjoy the spectacle, they being the bar staff, as I was the only person in the pub. I wanted to watch the England – Slovenia game, as well. So, when I went back at sat at the bar. First thing I did is take the book I’m reading out of my back pocket. Anywhere I go this is met with amusement, but it was almost shocking here. After settling in the barman came over, and said “Zibert nul pyat?” (Zibert (type of beer) half liter?” to which I responded with a no, thanks, but I’ll have a Fanta orange soda. Now, I don’t know if any man over the age of 12 has ever ordered an orange soda at this bar, but the people next to me started staring at me. Further they were shocked that I was at the bar, and not smoking cigarettes. They ultimately must have found me relatively harmless because they started talking, and figuring I was an English speaker decided to practice their English, which was nice for me. But they made some comments about my lack of beer for the second game. So, when I got up to leave, and they said “come on, one beer,” I decided to oblige. The conversation then came around to the usual topics. Do you know our language? To which I always ask which language they mean by theirs, and then tell them I don’t know Russian, but I know a little Ukrainian. Do you know our history? Sure, I do. Name the hetmans (Cossack leaders). So I go through the litany of the names on my money. What about our girls? They are very pretty, I respond. Do you have a wife? No, I’m far too young for that, I say. Do you want one? Not yet, my answer. Okay, you be careful, then, many girls here want to go the America (I had already figured this one out, though). It frequently ends with why is America so powerful, and why isn’t Ukraine. This is always the most difficult question, because I have to be diplomatic in the answer. The disdain and disgust with communism isn’t s common here. I have to try to say what I mean without saying how the Ukrainian country has been raped by Russia, or Soviet Russia for the past three hundred years, and is just now becoming an independent state. Part of the problem, is that frequently, the opinion is that the Soviet partnership was beneficial, even though I think it clearly was not. It usually ends with me expressing my hope for the future of this country as young people become the leaders. And especially with me imploring the people I am talking with to hold their leaders accountable. Not trusting government and doing nothing to improve it leaves you in the same position, I tell them. And I mention how distrustful (for better or worse) we are of government in the US, and tell them that is how to improve.

But, then again, I’m only a barstool politician. So, I’ll leave this argument to the pundits. That’s all I’ve got for now though. Coming soon, an update of my full Ukrainian tour with OPB, Gen with a G, and my lovely sister. . .

Be good and be well,

Pete