"Is that George Bush"

 

       March 7th, 2018... still.    Before flying over I had told Kostya some of the fears the people here had as I prepared to go.  The usual, fear of being murdered and never seeing me again kind of stuff.  Kostya re-assured me that murder was not likely however his main concern was the quality of the transportation in Ukraine, and that I would not like it.   Kostya having now been to America twice by this point had seen how our transportation and how we get around.  Primarily with our own vehicles and on nicely paved roads, well depending on where you live or who you ask.  The point here is that we are VERY blessed by even our construction ridden, pot hole having I-35 traffic jam livin' roads and transportation.  Even our public transportation is top notch most places.  So his fear for me was that I would be appalled by the condition of the transportation there in Ukraine.  I assured him that I did not care a thing about what the transportation looked like as long as no one would steal me.

 

Sardine Bus

   Ukraine is a walking country, as in most do not own cars.  People use public transportation, trains, ubers or walk to get to and from their locations. Trains is a big one when traveling long distances, but within cities it's mostly small buses or walking.  Our first method of transportation was the equivalent of a charter bus.  We would ride this bus to the train station/subway station.  Ya'll, this was my first time ever on a subway (that I can remember enough to talk about) and it was greatness.  I almost face planted approximately 4 times, one of which Kostya literally caught me out of the air by grabbing my backpack to save me from falling face first as the subway started going and I was not holding on.  Rule 1.  Get on and HOLD ON!  Rule 2.  No eye contact with anyone.  Rule 3.  You do not gaze around to find your seat.  If you spot an open seat, even it it is next to the Santa clause who possibly has not showered in 7 days you TAKE IT and you take it fast without any hesitation, and again HOLD ON.  I laughed SO HARD the entire ride!  I bummed into so many people because of my lack of rule number one mentioned above.  I "eezvaneet-ed" (excuse me in Russian) my entire way through the subway transit with laughter and "your face" on proud display!  I loved it but I am certain people around me did not.

     So after the subway we then made our way to another bus stop that would take us to Kostya's apartment.  Ladies and Gentlemen let me introduce you to the "Sardine Bus".  While this particular bus we were on was not as packed as some and actually got it's name later on in the trip, it was in fact a Sardine Bus.  These buses make stops every few hundred yards and either let off or let on.  It is a very quick process and all of the above instructions for the subway applied here.  Except here you were travelling on roads - Think underfunded, never tended to pot hole breeding ground!  Now you have a visual of these roads.  This bus would whip into a stop, people would get off and people would

Just outside Kostya's apartment building

get on in about a 9 second time frame and then it would begin again.  You were to pay the attendant, not the driver, who rode on this bus at all times (shift work obviously) and if you did not she knew.  Whether there were 3 people on that bus or 33 people - ya'll I wasn't kidding about Sardines, she would stare you down until you passed your hryvnia (grivna - $) to her.  Again, laughter, lot's of touching/bumping, but NO eye contact.  It was SO MUCH FUN, for me at least. We eventually came to a stop that was ours and began the walk to his Apartment.

    Through a large metal door we went up a few steps and then stood outside an Elevator, or at least that is what Kostya called it.   Guys, it was a death trap!  If I feared anything ever this entire trip it was dying in that thing!  Kostya re-assured me that it was fine, although he also cared to share that just a

Figured I better capture my last breath.

week prior it had not been working "properly".  NOPE!   I'm serious, it was not cool.  We got on that thing, all up in each others personal space because it was literally a 3x3 foot box, mind you I have my luggage during all of this subway hoping, sardine bus riding, and now the box of terror with little room to breath, and breathe if you dare as it might be the last one you take!  There was no little nice light up indicator that told you which floor your were passing or on, and a dim light overhead that barely allowed you to see.  This was Faith in action and let me just tell you that when we arrived on that 9th floor I thanked my God for His protection!

   So into the apartment we go.  I truly did not know what was to come.  After the sardine bus, the big metal door, the box of terror and the smell of the walkway there was no telling what was behind that door.  I should probably share a small detail.  I have failed to mention along the way Kostya lives with his mother.  She was widowed over 5 years ago and Kostya and her now share an apartment as it is difficult to live alone and provide your basic needs in that Country.  So behind that door was this darling little quaint Ukrainian woman with a beautiful smile on her face.  Oh, a welcomed sight.  She was such a mother.  Her first words were to make sure I was ok, not hungry (which she was already preparing a meal) or that I needed anything.  She did not speak any English so Kostya translated for us, but she did not have to speak my language to show me love.  She hung my jacket, made sure my boots were placed neatly by the door, and they began to show me their apartment and where I would sleep that night.

    Three bedrooms, a small little kitchen with a lovely view of the school Kostya use to attend, a playground and snow... lots of snow!  The bathroom was broken into parts.  The shower/sink were in one spot and the toilet was in another.  Ya'll this praying mantis and my long legs almost didn't fit.  When I shut the door to the bathroom and took a seat upon the throne my knees and my nose were nearly touching the door.  Again, laughter.  Everything about everywhere I went brought about this strange joy and laughter, despite all that was broken.  I enjoyed so much the lack of having everything at your disposal.  To live in a place where who had what did not matter because no one had anything and to just enjoy the peace that all these differences brought was such a neat feeling.

   So the tour continued and as we walked into his mothers room these very words left my mouth, with laughter of course " Why do you have a picture of George Bush"? Kostya looked a bit puzzled, then translated to his mother and they both began to laugh.  "That's my father" he said.  Hold up,

Come on!  Who's telling the truth here?

Guys... first of all no it's not, it's George Bush.  Second of all, yes it was his father and not George Bush, but seriously, come on... who does that look like?  I still look at this picture and cannot believe it! So crazy!  So after we laughed a long time, and still laugh to this day, we went in to have what I thought was dinner, but what was apparently an appetizer to diner. The spread was incredible, but the only thing I recognized was mashed potatoes and olives.  The rest was experimenting.  I'm a picky eater, I say I'm not, but then things like this remind me I am.  Yet, when you are across the world in the home of someone else who has prepared this for you, you cast all pickiness aside and

First Ukrainian meal.

begin!  It was SO GOOD! Well, the things I ate were good.  I of course dug into the mashed potatoes and the borscht and much to my picky surprise the meat dish that had the carrot slices on top was delicious.  Kostya was adamant about me not having to eat anything I did not want, and while I wanted to be respectful and eat what was made, I also knew the threshold of my gag reflex and wanted to keep that in check!

    Day one was almost a wrap, the following day would be when I would be able to wrap my arms around my boy, whom at this point had no idea I was there.  Kostya and I had talked many times prior to me coming and agreed that we wouldn't tell Andriy, but I for sure wanted his grandma to know. So after dinner that night I asked, "So did you tell grandma I was coming?  What did she say?"

To be continued...