Parents' visit

I can’t begin to describe how excited I was to visit Ukraine. Although no stranger to international travel, it had been years and years and I had never been to Europe. I guess it was good to have our kitchen remodel to distract me. Once we were on our way, I thought that travelers of bygone years had the right idea when they traveled by ship. At least they arrived rested. But then, we could never have afforded the time or cost to travel that way. Aside from the layover in Cincinnati and a slight misstep in Frankfurt, the flight was uneventful. John and I were exhausted, but delighted to see our son, Ezra, in Kyiv.

I thought a bottle of water was a little odd as a welcoming gift. But I realized later how useful it was. We have such a reliable and good quality water supply here in Tillamook that I think I might resent having to buy every drop I wanted to drink or cook with. More, I would forget to buy it! However, I suppose someone visiting here from elsewhere might want to use bottled water until getting used to our “bugs”. As it was, neither John nor I experienced “traveler’s tummy”.

The first day in Kyiv was something of a blur. I remember the bus we rode from the airport was nice. Other than that, the impression was of any large city—traffic, large buildings, foot traffic. One oddity was mistletoe. It was visible because most of the leaves had fallen. It was in a variety of trees whereas we only have it in oaks, or, for dwarf mistletoe, in evergreens. The train station was impressive with its red granite décor. I had heard of pay toilets, but not often used them—squatty potties, no less! I had little to compare the trains to. My last train trip was early Amtrak well before Ezra was born. So, without comparison, I found the train ride uncomfortable although I appreciated the bunk and bedding and privacy of our sleeping compartment. It was rather noisy and bumpy and the lavatory was disgusting. That said I was glad there was a lavatory and that I am generally pretty flexible.

Heading through Lviv was again blurry—just a strange city. We met Ira, Ezra’s friend, who spent quite a bit of time with us. The marshuka we rode to the city of Dobrotvir reminded me of the PMVs (public motor vehicles) in Papua New Guinea or the buses in Kenya—crowded and far from uniform in condition, with lots of stops at unmarked locations. The only thing I didn’t see on the bus was livestock. It wasn’t the most comfortable form of transportation, but very adequate and economical.

Dobrotvir had an odd temporary feeling to me. The large apartment blocks seemed hastily erected and unattractive. The muddy common areas and exteriors in need of paint were rather depressing. Of course, it was the scruffy late-fall time of year. Maybe in summer there would have had a different atmosphere. All of this was in contrast to more private areas. Ezra’s host’s apartment and a restaurant we visited and the director’s office were all very nicely appointed and maintained. The people Ezra worked with were unfailingly friendly and welcoming, whether or not they spoke English. They all seemed anxious leave us with a positive impression of their country.

Dobrotvir was small enough to walk around. We looked at the power plant and super market. We visited the school and saw the Teacher’s Day performance (much like school performances everywhere except for the “modern dance”—something like NFL cheer leaders!) Ezra’s English teachers joined us for dinner at a restaurant. I got fooled. There was an assortment of salads and meat platters on the table. I assumed that was the meal so I ate quite a bit. Then they served the main dish of meat and potatoes! I did enjoy the time with the teachers.

By the time we left Dobrotvir, we were un-jet-lagged and ready for adventure. Ezra had rented an apartment in Lviv for a few days. It was very nice. It might have been luxurious if we had had water to fill that Jacuzzi…It seemed really strange that in such a major city that there was water only part of the day. I suppose if we had stayed in tourist hotels we would not have experienced that.

I rather liked the opportunity to live as a local though—public transport, bottled water and shortages included. One of the advantages of the apartment was that we could cook some of our meals and save money. But we also had several meals and snacks out. The meals we ate that were hosted by Ukranians often had platters of rich meats and salads as a first course. We got to sample real borsch (very different from my mother’s) and Chicken Kyiv, but we also had pizza, Armenian food and a meal at an Irish pub, of all things. We stopped at several coffee shops, too. The pasties were wonderful and the fact that they had real restrooms wasn’t lost on us either.

We did a lot of walking in Lviv. The city seemed very old and stony. It made me feel very transient. I was struck by the ornate-ness–in varying styles—of the buildings and the age. My family arrived in Oregon in 1852, 100years before I was born and at the beginning of Oregon. Structures much older than that are rare here. Things like the Armory and the churches just seemed ancient to me.

I appreciated the lovely churches in Lviv and Kyiv although, when I looked back at the photos, which was which sort of blurred. Again there was the great age, but also the elaborate ornamentation. Someone commented that in Europe, church is a place. We Baptists tend to interpret the Bible to regard church as a body of believers and an act—hence comparatively plain buildings. In truth, I rather think it ought to be somewhere in the middle—we believers should build and decorate our church buildings beautifully to give glory and honor to God (not as and end in itself.) Maybe that was the goal; when the cathedrals were being built (although my history books say it was mainly rich folk trying to impress their rich neighbors).

Another thing I noticed as all of the monuments. There were statues everywhere! Of course I haven’t been to Washington DC where I understand there are also a lot of monuments; but, where I live, statuary is not real common. I was a little taken by all of it, even (or especially) in the cemetery. It was not just old sculpture either, but modern as well.

One thing I requested was a visit to a castle so Ezra made sure we saw one. Again I was fascinated by the age of the art work. (The castle was also a museum.). Much of the county side on the way to the castle reminded me of home although there was plenty to show me we were elsewhere such as horse drawn wagons and real haystacks (not bales). The farm house architecture was also different. There seemed to be little built of wood—maybe that is why buildings last so long!

John has a particular interest in history so Ezra took us to the Great Patriotic Museum. It was interesting to see the various planes and tanks and such. The interior of the museum was organized somewhat chronologically by battle or event in WW2. It was very effective and would have been more so had we been able to read Ukrainian. The displays were very personal—one had a parachute hanging over a crumpled propeller displaying the effects of the pilot who had died in the crash. Another display was an airplane wing covered with pilots’ photos. In the room documenting the death camps was a pair of ladies’ gloves. I didn’t understand why until Ira read the card explaining they were made of human skin. It was horrifying; not something I am likely to forget and probably should not forget. I would not have chosen this museum for a morning’s entertainment, but as an educational experience, it was unbeatable.

We spent much of our last afternoon wandering around Kiyv. Somewhere along the way we took a subway. It was very crowded and they have the longest escalators I have ever seen. We enjoyed seeing where Ezra was sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer, a university with a very red wall and a sunny afternoon in a park feeding pigeons and people-watching, including someone selling very energetic pony rides. One of my favorite memories occurred at a little square that afternoon. We were eating little pastries and chatting. After a few minutes, a young woman near us got up as if to leave. Before she did, though, she turned around and greeted us in very good English. She asked us where we were from and wished us a very pleasant visit to her country.

People-watching is always fun and educational. People are the same around the world and unique to each location. Many of the people we saw working were older women. Ezra said the grandmothers run the country. We saw a crew of laborers working on an ancient bridge site--two working, six observing and critiquing the effort. In the cities, the younger women’s dress was often very fashionable and impractical. During the weekend in Liviv we saw several wedding parties—they seemed much more public than they are here. We encountered one young man who was quite convinced that Ezra was an old school-mate (from grade school) and he was familiar (arm around the shoulder familiar) with John as well. The poor guy was drunk, a common problem in Ukraine according to Ezra. We met a few other Peace Corps Volunteers as well. They were fine young folk and we appreciated their insights.

Our last evening was a little soured as we discovered John’s credit card and ID were missing. Apparently his pocket had been picked. Unfortunately this type of corruption is very common according the folks we talked to. Fortunately for us were able to call VISA and they cancelled our cards immediately and initiated new ones. Thus far, anyway, were haven’t suffered any ramifications of the incident.

All in all we had a wonderful trip. We brought home a uniform for Nathan, gifts for friends and coworkers, photos, a few things for ourselves (it was such fun shopping at the bazaar and buying from the folks who had made some of the items) and priceless memories. We gained new appreciation for the people Ezra works with, increased esteem for Ezra and his efforts and also more appreciation for our own home. Someday I would like to return to Europe and tour the more typical sites such as London and Paris and Rome. But this was an unforgettable experience, one that I will always treasure.