Kiev, Ukraine

Kiev, Ukraine is a lovely, green, hilly with a European look and feel to it. I am grateful to my Fellowship progam for providing me with the opportunity to visit another country -- I am up to 11 lifetime and 3 this year. However, I did not like Kiev and seriously doubt if I will ever return. Almost everyone else on the trip felt that the Ukrainians were much nicer than the Russians. I, however, felt that while the people, were, in general, much more polite than in Russia, racial tension was much closer to the surface and the actions of racists were more blatant. To the point: A young man in the metro called me a "monkey" to my face. I know that it is immature to let one incident color my perception of an entire nation, but it would be naive and dishonest to say that I enjoyed Kiev. I honestly don't even feel like recounting the trip, short as it was, but here we go.

We boarded the train for Kiev at around midnight Monday. I wore my PJs to the train station, so I could just hop into "bed" as soon as the train started rolling. One of my fellow fellows warned me that the border guards wake you (twice -- once for each country) to check your documents, so I wanted to sleep as soon and as much as possible. I bunked with the assistant director of our program, so I got to practice my Russian. I washed my face and brushed my teeth in the train bathroom before I read the sign that said the water was not potable. I am surely leaving this country with Hep A, no doubt. Anyway, the Russian border guards woke us at about 3 am check documents. The guard reaches my room, checks my roommate's Russian passport and hands it back to her. He collects my passport and then disappears for more than 20 minutes. In the interim, I am getting a wee bit concerned. I mean my paper work is in order, but you never really know.

Quick sidebar: I have to tell you all that the only reason we are on this trip is because Russia stipulates that all foreigners can only be in the country for 180 days in a row. At the 180th day, they must exit the country, re-enter and re-register. So had we not gone to Ukraine, we would all have been illegal aliens as of December 11th. Okay back to the story.

So finally the border guy returns and stamps my passport. Not 50 minutes later, the Ukrainian border guard does the exact same thing. This time, the fear has worn off and I go back to sleep the same instant the guard leaves the cabin. When he returns, I barely raise an eyelid to accept my newly stamped passport. Welcome to Ukraine indeed.

We arrive at Kiev at around 8 am. With a meeting at 11:30 am, we had a few hours of downtime. We load up our mini-van and head out into city. As we are navigating the parking lot, I open my purse, apropos of nothing, and notice my passport is not there. I check a few more pockets, and then raise a general alarm. The bus stops, I jump out and race back to the train. I find the car (wagon) I was staying in and board the train. I find my room and, under a pile of stuff, also locate my passport. How is that for luck?

For the not-luck of it, if I hadn't found my passport, I would have been forced to stay in Kiev for about two weeks. Why? Not because of the passport. The US Embassy can issue an emergency passport in hours. The real stickler is the visa. I have a multi-entry Russian visa, which means I can come and go as I please. However, the visa is literally a part of my passport. And like everything here, it is not a simple thing to get it replaced. In fact, it is impossible to "replace" a visa. One must re-apply for a new multi-entry visa, and the processing time is like two weeks. During that time you are not allowed to enter Russia. Why? Because you don't have a valid visa. So, that, is for the luck of it.

On our first day we have a meeting at a branch of our sponsor bank, do a little souvenir shopping and have lunch at a quaint little restaurant. The city is chock-a-block full of really beautiful and ornate churches. There are several in viewing distance of the little sidewalk souvenir market. I am mildly disappointed because not many of the souvenirs look radically different from offerings in Moscow. We have another meeting with some folks from the Interfax news agency. I get up the gumption to ask a question in Russian -- about the Litvinenko murder-- and I am immensely proud of myself. After the guy answers my question, I tune out the rest of the meeting and focus on naming all 208 countries-- I came up with 130. Authors Note: I later found out that there are just 193 countries and I named just 128 -- Western Sahara and Bermuda are not countries. Who knew.

We are treated to dinner at one of the best restaurants in Kiev, Khutorok. The restaurant is actually a boat, moored at the banks of the Dnipr river.

After dinner, a fellow fellow and I go the local mega mart to get Georgian wine. Unlike Russia, Ukraine does not ban Georgian wine, so it is readily available. At this point, I meet up with the knuckleheads in the metro and the rest of the trip is busted.

Next morning, we get treated to a tour of the Lavra. I thought Lavra meant church/caves and inside touring. Lavra actually means monastery and we spent about 90 minutes outside in the freezing cold. That would have been fine except I was wearing a thigh-length skirt and high heel shoes. So my fun ended about 28 seconds after the tour started. The climax of the excursion was a descent into the catacombs beneath the monastery. Unfortunately this necessitated
1) a long walk down a steep hill before we reached the entrance
2) being unnaturally close to some dead monks in glass boxes
3) being in an unusually closed-in underground space with more than a hundred people all carrying lit candles and wearing heavy (flammable) coats.

You ever find yourself in a situation where you are asking yourself, why am I here?
Me too, lots of times, especially in Russia.



The above pictures are of the mat' rodina (Mother of the Motherland or some such) and the Kiev Opera House.

Anyway, I make it out the of the lavra and back to the bus we go. We pass a statue of the great Ki, for whom Kiev is named. Kiev sorta means "those things of Ki's"
I think Ki is the guy with the long bow at the back of the bow, but I could be wrong.


















I know you all know that I have a thing for doors and I found a cool one at the Lavra.


















These are some pictures of Kiev city. The river in the foreground is the Dnipr.
Thus ends my Kievan adventure.