My Dad's Visit to Ukraine

May 28th

This is my first blog in quite some time and I’m glad I have significant events to discuss regarding my living abroad in the Borderland – Ukraine. On May 28th, 2009, my father came to visit my home of the past 21 months in Eastern Ukraine. We’ve discussed this possibility for some time and before I joined the Peace Corps my dad said he would be certain to visit wherever my country of service would be, whether Morocco, Kazakhstan, or Fiji. When I found out I would be serving in Ukraine, one of my dad’s initial reactions was “Well, I’m excited too because until now I never would have had a reason to go there, so it is a country I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.”

I was rather nervous about him coming, since Ukraine, like much of Eastern Europe, is not as equipped to suit tourists as Western countries. My dad would have to make his own way to my oblast center Lugansk by himself as I couldn’t take time off to meet him in Kyiv due to my work. However, the excitement of knowing someone who supported me from my early curiosity toward Peace Corps would soon see where I work and live. I think it is very important to have an outsider’s perspective as I may be desensitized or somewhat biased regarding Ukraine. I really couldn’t wait to hear my dad’s interpretations and impressions of this country.

Arrival

My dad flew from Chicago to Zurich, Switzerland, then to Kyiv, Ukraine, then to Lugansk, Ukraine. He spent some time in Germany and Switzerland a few years back and the layover was too short for the time there to be memorable. However, the flight to Lugansk was five hours after he arrived to Kyiv and opportunities for killing time in Boryspil Airport leaves much to be desired.

I barely slept the night before I went to pick him up. I had to go to Lugansk by bus and hang out at my friend Seth’s apartment who left me his key. It was without a doubt the longest day of my service, waiting around until ten o’clock at night. I had to take a taxi out to the airport which was the size of Gary’s, running only five or six flights daily. I wasn’t sure where to wait but there were others meeting family so I shadowed them. It was a strange feeling to see all the upper class Ukrainians come through the gate, most people travel by train here as it is unbelievably cheap. Then, my dad came through, smiling, and the first thing I noticed was his Harley Davidson shirt. His trip to Lugansk passed free of hindrance, despite it being extremely long and physically tiring. We had to stay at Seth’s apartment due to his late arrival: my town is two hours from Lugansk and buses do not run late.

He refused to take trains to and from Kyiv in order to save time, but I introduce my dad to the Ukrainian public transportation system through minibuses, taxis, and eventually the subway in Kyiv. Riding the bus to my town the next day, my dad had a glimpse of what I have to deal with as the bus was crammed, hot, and not one window was open. I have more than grown accustomed to this form of travel.



We arrived at my apartment, which is a typical Ukrainian apartment with a small bathroom, small kitchen, and one room which acts as a living room and bedroom. Despite its relative tackiness and gaudy décor, including burnt orange flowery carpet, forestry wallpaper, imitation Persian rugs on the walls, and a metal plaque with a naked woman, my dad was relatively impressed with my living quarters. Considering what volunteers in other Peace Corps countries have to go through, my apartment may be laughable in America but here I am proud to live here. He soon realized my idiosyncrasies which I displayed in America were still intact here, as I am rather obsessive about cleaning, organizing and I still working in the kitchen!


Time in Belovodsk

One surprise for my dad was I must walk everywhere in my town as it is too small for buses or taxis yet large enough to tire you if you walk from one side of town to the other. Another early observation was the amount of monuments and statues in my town. Walking from the bus station to my apartment we crossed a giant Soviet WWII memorial, and later he saw the Chernobyl memorial, Bolshevik Revolution monument, Lenin statue, and another WWII monument. Perhaps we have as many monuments in America, but we are never out of our cars long enough to notice them.

My dad had several opportunities to see the emphasis put on student performances and presentations in Ukraine. Our first day in town, a two hour concert at the House of Culture exhibited traditional Ukrainian music and dance, as well as modern song dance routines. I have lost count of how many of these concerts I’ve seen so the novelty has somewhat expired, but my dad was impressed by the amount of activities available to youth even in my small town.

A few days later, he had another chance to view students’ talents at a different concert at the same place. An organization, Lugari which would best be described as co-ed Boy Scouts put on a concert also consisting of various song and dance repetitions. However, the ultimate display of student talent came in the form of a backyard performance in the yard of my apartment complex. Several children, ages ranging from 4-10 from what I gather, knocked on my door and called us down to watch their performance. Basically, it amounted to hanging a rug on a clothesline for a backdrop/changing area and my father and I, along with some parents, watching an hour long private concert. Herman, one of my site mate Chris’s students, played three different instruments; students sang songs and read poetry in Ukrainian, acted out famous fairy tales, and even a hula-hoop act. It was cute in its awkwardness as the children spoke quietly and continuously forgot to address the “audience,” got distracted by people walking by, and played behind the stage curtain. Most of it was in Ukrainian which meant I was as confused as my dad, but we both felt like we had the chance to witness something special.

Unfortunately, the second day of my day camp at school my counterpart informed me my dad could not participate since he does not have the proper documents from the Ukrainian government allowing him to interact with students. Tuesday and Wednesday he was then forced to stay at my apartment. He subsequently spent his afternoons reading and watching 24. Although my apartment is usually hot in the summer, reaching up to 83 degrees in the living room and as high as 97 degrees in the kitchen if I make the foolish mistake of using the oven, it was rather temperate after my dad refused to endure such heat and bought me a fan. I've learned to live without those little privileges and it has helped me to save a large sum of my Peace Corps money for travel.

We spent the afternoons going for walks, looking at my pictures and videos from my service, and we even watched a few episodes of BBC's Planet Earth, prompting my dad to say WOOOW every three minutes. We spent time with my sitemate, eating smoked cheese, smoked fish, and smoked sausage, drinking Ukrainian beer, and playing cards. On Sunday, we went to visit my host family whom I lived with during my first month in Belovdsk before I found an apartment. My dad was amazed by how self sufficient they are, growing, building, and raising everything themselves. In their yard they have bees for honey, chickens, goats, strawberries, raspberries, greens, and just about every vegetable in season. Yuri, my host dad, showed us his cellar where they store food which included jars of jam, fat, and meat.

We ate a large early dinner together which included borsch, pampushky which are garlic buns, and this great dish consisting of fried potatoes which were then baked and meat. The samagon, bathtub vodka, was pulled out at the first chance and my dad got a chance to see what real homemade liquor was like. He brought presents including decorations for my host mom Valentina, US quarters for Yuri because he collects coins, CDs and a poster for Tonya who loves music, and a Boston Celtics jersey for Dima though he was still at college in Kharkiv. Feeling so blessed, they gave us a giant bottle of cherry compote, cherry preserves, cherry wine, and more food than we were ultimately able to eat.

As if this day wasn't enough, the last evening before we set off together for Kyiv, my neighbors invited us outside for a feast on the picnic table. My dad, Chris and I along with five of my neighbors sat around eating for two hours and talking, each group asking questions of the other, much like dinner with my host family. What is life like in America, was the Soviet Union better, will the economy get worse, what do you like most about your country – these were some sample questions of our discussion. At one point, while outside on the picnic bench alone, a different neighbor approached my father trying to remember as much English as possible, explaining he was a soldier for the Polish military. He then went to his apartment to put on his uniform and then presented my dad with gifts, including an autographed book about my oblast and a military photo.

While he was here, my dad had a different perspective on things. I watched the things he chose to photograph or whatever seemed to catch his eye and it greatly differed from the things that strike me. He assumed Ukraine would be perhaps less developed and was surprised by how clean things were. I found this interesting as often volunteers complain about the amount of trash, but having an "outsider's" perspective, it made me try to look at this country differently, look beyond all my biases I have gained living here. His favorite line throughout the trip, however, was "That's not up to code" commented on either bad wiring or construction and absolutely refused to use a public toilet, which are often squatting toilets.


Kyiv

Saving time, we flew from Lugansk to Kyiv on a Thursday morning at seven o'clock, which was a shock for me. My usual trip by train takes at least 16 hours and the flight was only an hour long. In fact, the flight from Lugansk to Kyiv was shorter than the taxi ride from Kyiv's airport to the hotel. It was great to have a chance, on my Dad's dollar which I am more than grateful for, to see a different side of Kyiv and be a tourist for a short time.

We checked into our Hotel, I believe a four star with something like ten restaurants, car services, and English Speaking staff members and I was dumbstruck. The hotel where I usually stay costs ten dollars a night and electricity and hot water are never a guarantee. My dad took a shower as soon as possible as my apartment doesn’t have hot water and he felt like a new person. He roared 'Man, I haven't showered in eight days' to which I replied 'When's the last time you think I took one?!" We set off for the city, taking the subway to Independence Square, the center of the city and the ritziest part of Kyiv. From there we saw St. Michael's and St. Sofia's cathedrals, taking plenty of pictures and stopping to take in the views as it is greatly different from even the oldest or biggest cities in America.

We decided next to go to the National Chernobyl museum which was an educational and moving site. Equipped with audio headsets in English, we walked around the museum observing tens of thousands of documents, personal items, and pieces of art and photographs of the tragedy. There was almost too much information and at times it was overwhelming.

Feeling rather tired after walking so much and waking up at four, we went back to the hotel and rested until dinner. I tried to find neat memorable places to take my dad for food and the Drum was a must. It is in this scary alleyway and located half underground down a stairwell much like a speakeasy. Of course he made a joke like "I'm not going in there" but ultimately enjoyed the atmosphere as the establishment has room for no more than 20 patrons.

The next morning, I got up at six to meet Bethanie at the train station as she arrived from Crimea. She shared the luxury of staying in such a nice by showering and having a few plates at the buffet breakfast and again we were off to see things in Kyiv. We went to the World War II museum, and coincidentally it was June 6th, the anniversary of D-Day. The facility was three floors yet we had only the strength to explore the first two. Words can't really do these places justice and I will post pictures as soon as I can. Following the museum, we went to the National Art Museum which contained everything from religious artifacts to post-modernism and cubist artworks. Souvenir shopping was done at Andrew's descent, a winding stone street leading up a hill to St. Andrew's cathedral. Along the road are vender's with items and gifts, most of them tacky, to sell to tourists and my dad had a fun time haggling with them as they know enough English to conduct their minor business. We were back and forth top to bottom left to right in Kyiv on the subway and in taxis for two days straight.

The second night in Kyiv and last night of my dad's trip, we made reservations for a restaurant called Porto, which I read about in a guide and thought it would appeal to my dad's tastes. My dad, Bethanie, fellow PCV's Amber and Seth, along with his sister who was visiting, my former Russian language teacher Max and his wife Lena all joined us at this chic restaurant. It specialized in seafood and there were giant ice sheets with whole fish laying out which you could choose, and then select how you wanted it to be cooked. My dad was more than in his element, being a host that is, and more than took care of my friends and me. Max and my dad hit it off, sitting next to each, as Max acted as the main translator and interpreter for the evening. We had more food than I could ever wish to describe, but I will say it was amazing. There were plates of fish on fire, giant salads, octopus tentacles, wine, four or five different kinds of fish and of course desert, and then flaming after dinner liqueurs. Needless to say it was a step up from making tuna sandwiches in the Peace Corps office lounge. My dad was glowing after the dinner and I felt glad the place I chose suited us perfectly. It was the best way to end his trip, hosting others in their own country, meeting my friends here, and of course laughing.

It was an amazing trip and though a lot of this blog is simply a recount of what we did, I have a lot more to say about the impact and impressions it left as well as my Dad's observations. I'll leave that for another time.

I'm off tomorrow on a train and will be spending the next two weeks in Slovakia, Austria and the Czech Republic. Safe travels and talk soon.