Weekend Holiday to Kyiv, Ukraine

1-3.12.12 After a twelve hour train ride, Captains and Moscow 1 made it to Kyiv, Ukraine. Jake’s Ukrainian friend, Nastia, met us on the platform; she was to be our guide for the day. First, after some of us took money out of the ATM at the train station, she led us to the metro that would take us to the stop by our hostel. It would take us one stop, where we would switch to another line. The first train was packed to bursting and we practically exploded out of the door when we got off. As I stepped out of the train, my arm rubbed against something in my pocket: I looked down to see my passport sticking out of my coat pocket. I was absolutely certain that I had not put it there; I opened it up and searched for all my visas: to my shock, they were all there. Then, Whitney shrieked: “My wallet is gone!” Yep, twenty minutes into the country and we had already been robbed. Whitney’s small purse, which she had kept in front of her, was open and her wallet (including her driver’s license, credit card, social security card, and cash) was missing. Instantly, she was in tears and I was in shock: as Head Teacher, I had to take control of the situation, but all I knew to do was hurry up everyone so that we could get to the hostel as soon as possible so Whitney could call her dad and have her credit card cancelled. Finally, we made it to our hostel and Whitney was able to get a hold of her dad and have her credit card cancelled before any money was taken out of her account. Her dad would wire her money the next day; until then, my girls and I would spot her for any expenses she might incur. This incident rather dampened our day in Kyiv, if not the entire vacation. However, we tried to be troopers and show our appreciation to Nastia for taking time out of her weekend to show us around. We took an outdoor metro/tram that was built in the 1920s that goes up a wooded hill to an overlook of the city; the Ukrainian landscape is picturesque with rolling green hills and forests. We passed a monument to those who died during Ukraine’s revolutionary war with Mother Russia during World War Two and another monument to the victims of Stalin’s starvation of the country in 1921-1922 where thousands of people perished. Nastia then brought us to the Kiev Pechersk Lavra (a lavra is a cathedral with catacombs of the priests); it was beautiful and full of history. We explored downtown Kyiv, saw Kyiv’s Lady Liberty (like we have the Statue of Liberty), the pedestrian souvenir promenade, and an underground shopping mall. If I were to describe Kyiv, I would say that it’s a mixture of St. Petersburg and Moscow yet more ghetto—and I don’t just call it ghetto because my opinion is biased after getting robbed: it really does seem ghetto, even in the tourist streets. The architecture in the city centre is old, gothic European, which is always stunning, but the streets are covered in trash and graffiti and the city just had a general grey, dismal vibe. Maybe it was, again, simply because I’d been robbed there, but I never felt so wary or vulnerable during this entire semester as I did in Kyiv. Once, we suspected a man of following us; when I glanced behind me and gave him my best Russian Woman Death Glare, he finally decided to take another route. I wizened up and put the (remaining) contents of my little purse in a secret pocket in the inside of my coat—there would be no way I would be taken unawares again. Thank goodness, we never had any problems after that. The best thing about Kyiv was the food: we discovered this buffet-like restaurant where you chose whatever you wanted and then paid for those items. It was traditional Ukrainian food and absolutely yummy, for super inexpensive even. That’s the thing: it’s ridiculously cheap to live in Ukraine, which would make sense if you’ve been there. Our second day in Kyiv, Captains did our own thing: after sleeping in, we went back to the underground mall so Whitney could get the money her dad wired her, and then we found another main souvenir street. This street winded down a hill lined with quaint cottages and houses and shops, all lit up and golden in the setting sun (the sun goes down super early now). It was a pretty street, especially with the teal and gold St. Andrew’s Cathedral at the summit. As per a recommendation from an American from our hostel, we stopped inside a chocolate café at the bottom of the hill. Lviv Handmade Chocolate shoppe is designed to make you salivate for chocolate the moment you step through the door: the walls are painted in hues of brown and everything is brown, gold, or cream coloured. While it is a café, Lviv makes its own chocolate and there is a chocolate shoppe in the back with all kinds of chocolate of all shapes and sizes. It was a chocoholic’s paradise. I ordered a hazelnut hot chocolate, Shelley ordered a hot chocolate with orange, and Ally and Whitney ordered Lviv’s specialty hot chocolate. It wasn’t until after I ordered that I realized mine was only 90 grams while the others’ was 200 grams, yet they were all around the same price. However, I stuck to my gut and my order and gosh darn it I’m glad I did: although my mug was small, it was filled to the brim with the most delicious hot chocolate I’ve literally, seriously ever tasted—literally, it was hot chocolate, as they melted a chocolate bar and cream and poured it in my mug. It came with a glass of water to help dilute the richness of the chocolate. Oh goodness, I was truly in heaven. I thought I could keep eating (for that’s what I did; I ate it because it was too thick to drink) forever, but once I scraped out the last bit of chocolate I wouldn’t have been able to eat any more—it was that rich. Although the others’ cups were much larger, their orders were liquid hot chocolate—like normal hot chocolate, but still tasty. My girls and I chatted and discussed our experiences in Russia and Ukraine and simply had a pleasant time together. It’s interesting: even after being with each other almost literally 24/7 for four months, we still enjoy our “girls’ night outs” and hanging out with each other. I’m so blessed to have these girls in my group—and my life. After warming up our insides and our moods, we ventured out into the cold and found our way back to the hostel. We changed into comfy clothes and hung out in the common room, where we met Arjun Bhogal and Kieran Rae, Lucky, Sasha, and Dorin Ellis. Arjun is English and Kieran is Welsh; they are walking from the British UK to the Australian UK over a distance of 10,000 miles and three years (check out their websitehttp://theborderwalk.wordpress.com/). Lucky is Sri Lankan and studying in Kyiv. Sasha is Russian and on extended holiday; he didn’t speak any English except the basics and curse words. Dorin is from Washington State and says he’s here for various things, like work and such; I didn’t really understand. All I really knew what that he was the spitting image of Jack Black, personality and all (though, unfortunately, not as witty). We had a lot of fun getting to know everyone; this is my favorite part of hostels, meeting people from all over the world. Sasha (tall, burly, bald, physically stereotypical Russian) was probably my favorite: he obliterated any and every Russian stereotype: he tried to communicate with us, teased us with the little English he knew, and even surprised us by buying us (Captains) morozhino, or ice cream. He asked me what Russian I knew and I threw out random phrases, and then looked him in the eye and said, U vas horoshaya popka (you have a nice butt). As soon as my compliment registered, his eyes grew wide and he gasped, then covered his face in sheepish embarrassment; he even ran into the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. When he returned to the room, he muttered words like diavushka (girl) and krasni (red) and I understood that I made him blush. I made your stereotypical burly, bald Russian man blush. That’s equivalent to making a Buckingham palace guard smirk, right? My life is complete. The next morning, Kyiv decided to convince us that it was a miserable, dismal place to be: it was sleeting/snowing heavily. We slept in and took it easy that morning while we waited for five P.M. to roll around so we could catch our train to Moscow. Captains found an Italian restaurant called Olive (Oh-liv-uh) for breakfast/lunch/brunch. It was a clean, quaint, fancy sit down restaurant with legitimate 30’ Italian pizzas for seven dollars or less—complete with bread sticks and oil olive for dipping. Somehow, food makes everything better and worth it. I ordered a pizza with chicken and peaches; yes, it sounds weird, but now I refuse to eat any pizza without peaches on it—so tasty! Our hostel gave us directions to catch the trolley that would take us to the train station, and after saying goodbye to our hostel friends, we and Moscow 1 headed for the train station.

As soon as we boarded the train, I set up my bed, stripped off my jeans, and crashed: I just wanted to be “home” at last. I slept most of the night and never felt happier to be in Moscow than I was the next morning. All in all, even though the city was somewhat of a disappointment (I’ve heard so much praise from acquaintances and had such high expectations), the weather was nasty, and felt vulnerable the entire time, I saw some beautiful things, met some awesome, awesome people, ate some amazing food, and enjoyed spending time with my girls. Having another international experience with my girls was really what made it all worth it; I adore them.