Kiev, a cool city? I had no idea. I didn't even know two weeks before that I would be coming to this Ukranian locale of colored revolutions and poisoned politicians. Only that it would be an easy stop on a route taking me across Europe and ending up back in Italy. Also, that it was incredibly affordable to take an overnight train from Moscow, where I squeaked by just 3 hours before my visa would expire and I would have ended up in Russian incarceration upon being caught by border guards. My bouquet of Russian experiences is vast, but I can do without that one...
Stepping off of the train with my enormously heavy suitcase (but Russian elephants make excellent souviniers!) I had little choice as I was hounded by men to help me with my bags and give me a taxi ride. I let one take it as he already had it to the third step towards the exit by the time my hand came detached from it and paid him entirely too much as he threw it into the trunk of another middle aged, overweight man who nicely told me in Russian that he would happily take rubles if I did not have any grieven to offer for the taxi fare. I bet you will.
Stepping off of the train with my enormously heavy suitcase (but Russian elephants make excellent souviniers!) I had little choice as I was hounded by men to help me with my bags and give me a taxi ride. I let one take it as he already had it to the third step towards the exit by the time my hand came detached from it and paid him entirely too much as he threw it into the trunk of another middle aged, overweight man who nicely told me in Russian that he would happily take rubles if I did not have any grieven to offer for the taxi fare. I bet you will.
He drove me to an address that I had from Marina. To be honest, I had no clue where I was going, simply that it was close to a metro station and that Marina and Valentine think the world of this couple who would take me in. Once again, I threw myself into the unknown in search of a new experience. Once again, I was plesantly surprised by the blessings which have been mine since embarking on this adventure.
Eventually.
At first, I found myself waiting outside their door. No answer. Damn. Maybe I am at the wrong address? Well, not much I can do now... off to the world of Ian Flemming. Oh Goldfinger, what misadventure are you trying now? I know you will end up decaptiated or blown to bits...
Thankfully, the couple showed up about half an hour later, rambling apologies, and oblivious to the fact that James Bond just woke up on a plane- Goldfinger had tricked him again! Oh no! Well, I would have to wait to see how Mr. Bond got himself out of this predicament, on to meet the family.
Natasha and Peter had wed when Natasha was only 16. One can sense immediately both her total love and devotion for her husband and family and also her longing something more... all the while not finding the two irreconcilible, which is why I think she finds so much solace in God and also takes in adventurous travelers. Peter got his master's degree in business and now the two of them run a remodeling business from the house. Peter works from his car and is gone until very late in the evening. Natasha works for the church in additon to keeping Peter's books. They have a wonderful 11 year old son, Bogdan, who is lazy about his English studies and both loved and hated all the attention I gave him.
They saw their apartment as humble but by my standards was rather spacious for the region. Their kitchen was large with plenty of counter space and a full sized fridge, and their son's room, which was vacated for my stay, was almost as big as their room. Bonus- I got to share my living space with a small box turtle! This situation was rather agreeable to me. Then it got better. Natasha is fiercely proud of her nation's customs (they're not Russian!), especially the cuisine. Soon after their return home a great meal was placed before me. Fish, chicken, vegetables, potatoes, and to top it off, Ukranian chocolate, made by ... The company makes chocolate that could compete with the Swiss if only they could master export marketing...
Ah well, the city was wonderful, easy to get around, and rather revealing. Sales reflected the crisis-ridden economy while the caliber of the stores exposed how much Ukriane had westernized before their economy went belly-up. The ice cream is less than a dollar, and comes in the form of creamy soft serve in traditional chocolate and vanilla, but also chocolate mixed with orange or vanilla and blueberry. It is divine and they are even kind enough to dip it in chocolate if you would like before placing the cone on a scale and charging by the gram.
Their metro systems is not as large as Moscow's, but then neither is the city. Metro gets one wherever he or she wants to go, boasting many communist sculptures and arched ceilings. Entrance is attained with a blue plastic token that is placed in what can only be described as a recycled cheezy slot machine.
When I returned home one night, I was offered a cup of coffee and some chocolate. I never refuse, as it always made Natasha's face drop and no one wants that. Expecting a cup of Nescafe instant sludge to appear before me, my shock was apparent when she placed a tiny cup approximately 18 inches from my eyes. No, it was not the distance, it was truly a tiny cup... an ESPRESSO cup? Could it be true? REAL coffee??? How had I missed it before? Behind Natasha sat an espresso/cappuccino machine. Oh heavnly glory! Real coffee! I sipped it as slowly as possible, wanting it to last.
If you want to knwo how the Kiev folk feel abuot Russia, well look no further than the stature commemorating Russo-Ukranian unity. That giant distraction you see is a jumbo screen squat in front of the statue, blaring Ukranian advertisements and stealing the thunder of the good comrades shaking hands and bringing together their neighboring lands into one nation. How'd that turn out for you?
The Chernobyl museum also displays lingering bitterness at the Soviet Union. It is both a commemoration of those who died and the courageous individuals who saved lives, and a searing attack on the government that enabled its occurance and payed so little mind to it afterwards in both press accounts and in acknowleging the full effects of the disaster which still affect (like that grammar?) Ukranians today and have rendered a portion of their land uninhabitable.
Like Moscow, Kiev has a World War II memorial that trumps anything we could make in the US. Until your men have been killed on your own soil and you have watched yoru children starve, I don't think any country can appreciate the ravages of war enough to put the passion into their statues that these countries' artists display. The pain in the images and the pride at victiory is palpable as speakers play victory music for visitors. It's an interesting phenomenon to bring both extreme grief together with great triumph and the impressions these memorials make on one do not leave one's memory.
After feeding me some of Ukraine's most traditional dishes, taking me to a historical outdoor museum showing 17th century Ukranian agrarian lifestyles, and bonding with me on a level I never thought possible with people who don't speak English, Natasha, Peter and Bogdan took me to the train station and saw me off as I continued my journey. Five days with them was not enough and I will forever be grateful to this beautiful family. Beautiful, friendly, and historical Kiev captured my imagination. The train ride from there would be 25 hours... in a cabin shared with only one other person... this could be interesting...
No comments:
Post a Comment