The Sunshine/Preparing for Gorchitza

Not a cloud in the sky today--a very rare sight in Kiev. Ice is coming off the sidewalks as well; the city seems to be digging out. It might be the coldest day since I got here, however; perhaps a Siberian cold front chased the clouds south.

I am headed for a Gorchitza VIP/press-only event at a club's grand opening. Just learned it's got a black and white dress-code theme, so I spent the morning running around town with Lauren looking for stuff we could wear. I think I have something to wear now, but Lauren has been frustrated trying to find clothes that will fit and be stylish. Gautier, a nice French guy who is doing an internship at the French embassy here and who is also bunking with us, will also be along for the fun.

The band's manager told us that since it's an invitation-only event there is no entry fee, but he suggested, "you can bring some whiskey as the present for band - ))) it should be warmly accepted))" So today I learned where to buy whiskey in Kiev: basement of the Billa grocery store. Cost for a bottle was about $30; whiskey is a luxury item in Ukraine and Romania, so it makes sense they would ask this Yankee to bring that. :-))

So next time I write expect to hear a lot about the very talented Gorchitza. Here is their latest, currently-charting single:

The Kiev Metro

From Kiev, Ukraine

At various camouflaged locations all over Kiev there are metro stations. The entrances to these are tucked away amongst various shops and stores. To find one, just look for the "M" hovering above the entrance. It's a bit like finding Waldo, minus the fun.

Once you locate the entrance to the metro, you descend some stairs into an underground shopping mall. The mall is a good place to observe beggars, entrepreneurial babushkas, and groups of teenagers sipping from open containers of alcohol.

More menacing than drunken teenagers are the police officers walking in groups of two, three, or more as they patrol the area. They are there to serve and protect. And to hassle you. Do not. Under any circumstances. Make eye contact with the police officers.

Once in the underground mall you spend still more frustrating minutes trying to locate the entrance to the metro itself. Sometimes there is a sign directing you to that entrance, and sometimes there isn't.

Eventually you find it. You buy your tokens from a woman at a window near the entrance, place a plastic blue coin into the turnstyle slot, and away you go.

In some metro stations at some times of day the crowds are terrifying. People flow towards the escalator in a waddling mass, bodies crushed against one another. Your ears are bludgeoned by a cacophony of shuffling and stomping and shoving.

You are made especially aware of that noise when you are jostled onto the escalator, for then a sharply-contrasting quiet falls. You have entered the eye of the hurricane. Everyone stands still, their once-shuffling feet now silenced, as they rush downward into the bowels of the city. The machinery moving the escalator makes a menacing throbbing sound. Occasionally a coin rolls by, released by some kid above you who is curious about how far it can go before it bounces off of something.

While the escalator itself moves swiftly, the journey is long. (And some metro stations require two long escalator rides.) People going up survey those coming down (and vice versa) with impassive stares. Advertisements glow in light boxes along the way to tempt the captive audience. Lauren tells me that many of them are advertisements for the advertising spaces they occupy.

Your ears detect the coming roar of the crowd. You exit the eye and reenter the storm. The sounds of shuffling and stomping and shoving fills the air once again as the crowd peels off into opposite directions towards their subway cars.

Swedes Invade the Hostel

From Kiev, Ukraine

Every bed in the hostel is occupied, and even the employees are having to make sacrifices. Two employees slept in our room and had to endure Piet's amazing snoring. The next night they opted for the kitchen instead.

This is because a group of Swedish high school kids have arrived. They are finishing their secondary school experiences and will soon take tests to determine their future career tracks.

They are here to learn specifically about how Swedish business in conducted abroad. So they are visiting various Swedish companies based here in Kiev. One of the instructors explained to me over breakfast that there are certainly warmer destinations to consider taking the kids to, but that Kiev is cheaper, and so they come here.

It's Cold

Today it's cold. We visited the Mother Motherland Statue today, and it was a real hike. Definitely the coldest weather I have experienced so far. Weather Underground suggests that temperatures flirted with the single digits in degrees Fahrenheit; wind chill made it feel sub-zero in degrees Fahrenheit.

At least we had these cheerful Soviet anthems to march to en route to the Mother Motherland statue.

Tymoshenko Takes Kiev

From Kiev, Ukraine

Today I picked up a free news publication which I could not really read on account of it being in Ukrainian :-B. But it included a very interesting map showing how the people in Kiev voted, raion by raion (raions are like neighborhoods). Yulia Tymoshenko took first place in every raion, with percentages in the mid-to-high 30s. Sergey Tigipko came in second, and Viktor Yanukovich, who came in first for the country as a whole, came in third in every Kiev raion with percentages in the mid-to-high teens.

Kiev's support for Tymoshenko despite her finishing second in the nationwide election reminded me a bit of Atlanta, Georgia, which often votes differently from the rest of the state of Georgia.

Wikipedia already has maps showing how the country voted. On the maps on that page, percentages equal percentage of total national vote the candidate earned there.

Piraeus Bank is Holding My Debit Card Hostage

From Kiev, Ukraine

They admit that they have it, but they are asking for all sorts of paperwork to be sent from my bank in order to return it to me, very unreasonable. Of course, Bank of America was closed on Sunday and on Monday as well (MLK Day Monday). It is 4:24 PM on Tuesday and the debit card office has been open only half an hour today due to the time zone change. This whole experience has really sucked. The branch manager is always out, and so it looks like I'm going to have to cancel the card.

Actually, I am reporting it stolen, and I am going to explain that it was stolen by Piraeus Bank in Kiev.

Others at the hostel say that Piraeus Bank has a reputation for this sort of stuff. But other banks in Ukraine have done this, too. Christy, a girl who spent one night here last night and has been in the Peace Corps in Ukraine for a year and a half, says she has had to cancel four (!) cards due to these sorts of things.

UPDATE: Card canceled, new one is en route via courier.

A Letter to My Mother That Contains Relevant General Information About Where My Head is At Right Now, But That Omits the Stuff About the Debit Card...

...Because That Would Stress Out My Mom to No End and I Want to Spare Her That

From Kiev, Ukraine

Hi, Mom. So I am finally at the point where I can begin to relax a little bit. The jet lag is not entirely cured, but I'm on a fairly normal schedule, rising about 8 AM each morning and going to sleep by 11 or midnight each night. I still tend to wake up at 2 AM and lie there in the dark for a while, unable to get back to sleep for a few hours. But I'm getting close to solving this problem.

Life at the hostel has fallen into a routine. There is a cheerful camaraderie here, and somehow, despite a full house in recent days, there is no problem getting a shower, nor is there ever a line to the bathroom.

The first few days here, when I was tired and stressed, made for a city of danger and scowls. Now that I am finally decently rested and know of a few nice places to hang out I can finally sit back and enjoy the warmer faces of people engaged in cheerful conversation in the coffee houses and pubs around town. Heard some great live jazz last night, and today I am in a wonderful cellar pub scored by, well, more jazz, with free wi-fi. If you were on Skype we could video chat right now.

Been keeping people informed via a blog and my growing stream of web photos (if you go to the link I sent earlier you will see that it is updated each day with new images). It's interesting to post vacation photos as you go, versus the old tradition of inviting everyone to a slide show a few days after you get back.

I have learned several valuable skills already, including what to buy at the supermarket and how to tie a scarf in the proper Ukrainian way. My developing skills of argumentation and debate when dealing with Ukrainian bureaucracy should also serve me in good stead when I return. I am 38, but being in a tougher world like the one in Kiev makes me feel I have lived naively, so it's better late than never to sharpen the skills.

Perhaps tomorrow I will finally get to the embassy, now that the rush of the first few days is subsiding and a routine is beginning to emerge...

I have already made some good friends at the hostel, including an especially wise for her years young American woman who is married to a Russian man. Only 21, she has acquired more life experience already than I probably ever will. She has become everybody's mother in the hostel, frequently insisting on cooking traditional Russian meals for us because she says the ingredients would spoil before she used them otherwise.

Have been hanging out with a writer who has been published in some notable places; we have been chatting about the election from time to time as we keep running into each other at the same dives. Of course, I have made my own observations as well, though I have always been more interested in the pop cultural spectacle surrounding such events, filtering them more as an outsider; his Russian background allows him to penetrate more deeply, though differently. I think we're a Venn diagram, and that makes for good conversations since we both surprise each other with our perspectives. Anyway, I'm not the only American who came here with the idea of writing about it.

And I met a nice young Romanian woman on the plane flight over the Atlantic; we plan to meet in Bucharest soon.

In short, I have done more living in the past week than in the last year combined. I guess that's what I came here to do, and now it's happening. It's been a stressful, but also wonderful week. And really, it's not even that cold.

Cheers!

Andrew