Evening Stroll

1. My favorite street in Kiev, off of Andreyevskiy Spusk. It looks like a little village street but it's a minute's walk from a major square. 2. View of old Kiev at dusk from Andreyevskiy hill. 3. St. Michael's cathedral. 4. The Golden Gate Metro across the street from me.

Kiev-Pechersk Lavra

This morning I finally walked down to this famous monastery in Kiev called the Kiev-Pechersk Larva. It's really huge with all sorts of cathedrals built from the 12th century on to the 18th century. And I made a little puppy friend who didn't want to eat my almonds but was very interested in looking good for the camera. The coolest part of the complex were the "pechersks" or caves which have mummified (and ornately cloaked) monks in them. It was really surreal because I have no idea who these people are, yet all the other tourists/pilgrims would cross themselves in front of each glass coffin (about 50 in all) and then kiss it. They kiss everything and cross themselves a lot more than Catholics. And there's a whole lot more gold everywhere and brightly colored iconography. It all seems very cultish and I love it. While all the others lit a prayer candle and carried this inside the caves with them I decided I didn't want to light a candle since I don't pray and instead I whipped out my little handy flashlight which I'm not sure they appreciated.

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Flags and Tents

With less than a week until Parliamentary elections the city went a little nuts this weekend. The main commercial drag in Kiev, Krishatik, is closed to traffic on weekends and there were extra political party tents set up all along the street and in Independence Square(Mayden Nezhalesnosti), though it's been almost as festive during the week. Saturday the color orange dominated, representing support for the party in power. But on Sunday the street was filled with people dressed in pink and tents and banners and outdoor screens set up for the Socialist Party of Ukraine. The campaigns are really profession and organized, even though there are I think 70 or so parties. People here really seem to feel like they have some democratic power, even though Yushenko's orange party (of the Orange Revolution) has dissapointed many this year with inflation and corruption. In Kiev more than Odessa people seem to have serious hope for Ukraine. A grandma I called to schedule for an interview told me she would be busy all week due to the election and refused to even pick a time until after the election. I didn't ask, but she must be campaigning for one of the parties.

Nina Yakovlina: At 85 she skis and speed skates and sleeps on her balcony

Yesterday I met a really extraordinary woman for an interview -- Nina Yakovlivna Averbuch. When I first walked into her apartment I thought I could be in a sweet little lodge in Maine or Oregon and the woman herself would fit in in Eugene or Portland, or even in Sedona, Arizona. She was anything but Soviet. The woman has never been married and insists on indepdendence in every way: she knits her own slippers and outfits, but you could never tell by looking at them. And what she made of her little apartment could really be a good example for all the people living in ugly clammy un-renovated Soviet wholes (as well as those living in European style" renovations with lots of gold and ornamentation and frills which post-Soviets seem to love so much now that they can. This woman lost her only brother on the front, and
both her parents were shot at Babi Yar just outside Kiev (one of the worst mass graves of the Holocost). But of all the people I've interviewed this woman was the only one that did not complain about anything. Not once did she say that she had a difficult life. Not once did she mention any sort of physical ailment. When an indoor skating rink openned last year in a suburb of Kiev she picked up the speed skates she hadn't used in 40 years and went down there. But when she saw the high price per hour of skating she asked if there was any sort of discount for veterans of the war. The woman behind the cashier asked surprised "YOU want to skate?" and then brought her to the head manager who offered her free skating privileges at all times at the rink. And she still goes skiing. She's travelled all over the world on her own in retirement, and she's been to more places than I in the US. Her friendly and open attitude has helped her make random friends in all these places (I'll hopefully be staying with one of them in Budapest). She was aparently some big-time engineer who came up with some new anti-corrosion techniques for underground radio communication for the Soviets. But looking at her apartment I thought she was an artist, not a scientist. This woman's creativity, optimism, and energy is really inspiring. She lives like my friends' parents in Park Slope but she's 85 and in Ukraine!

The Lifestyle

Top: A chess game at the Bessarabsky Market. Bottom: A late night (post theater?) picnic above the Teatralna Metro station. The abundance of beer + food product shacks on the street (they are standing in front of one) makes this possible anywhere anytime.

Kiev Apartment and First Impressions

I'm very excited about my Kiev apartment. I have the whole place all to myself. Someone very clearly lives here, but I guess it's a second or maybe summer apartment. It's well stocked with good stuff like electronic appliances, oatmeal, sugar, toilet paper, and cleaning supplies, etc. Photos left to right, are of: entrance into apartment with salon in front and kitchen hall on left; salon from entrance; salon view from back (notice my Ukraine map cleverly hung up without tape); bathroom; kitchen inside; kitchen from entrance. (Sorry about the weird layout. Can't fix it).

Even better than the apartment is its location, in the geographic center of the city and within walking distance of the old town and all the city's major attractions. On one end of my little street is the Golden Gate, the 11th century original entrance into Kiev. At the other end the highest copula of St. Sophia's Cathedral can be seen. It's only a 5 minute walk to St. Sophia's square and the main streets of Kiev (Volodomirskaya and Kreshatyk). The bottom two large photos were taken from the center of St. Sophia's Square. On one side of the square is St. Sophia and opposite from it is the monument to Bogdam Chmelinsky and St. Michael's up the road.

Walking to Town

In an effort to counter-act my dinners of beer and dried fish (see below), I have taken to walking into Odessa's center from home in the morning (about a 30-45 min. walk). On the way I walk through this beautiful park which has a huge statue of Lenin in the middle of it. Lenin is looking purposefully at something, unfortunately not quite at the colorful TV screen flashing with advertisements at the other end of the park (Odessan humor is not quite ironic). The yellow Illinsky Cathedral (close-up below) can also be seen down the main pedestrain path of the park (on which I am standing in the first photo). The stray dog in the last photo is curled up on a manhole cover. Incidentally, I was told by my JDC guide on one of my first days here not to walk over manhole covers in Odessa because they might be loose and I might fall through. Of course she also told me not to walk under balconies on the streets because they are old and might fall on my head. Cautious or paranoid?

Happy 8th of March, Women's Day

Women's Day is a serious holiday here. Businesses, schools, and banks are closed. Women of all shapes and sizes receive gifts from the men in their lives (flowers, cosmetic products, and jewelry here in Odessa). Genya's boyfriend couldn't make it due to some financial complications which included paying bail at the police station for a fight he got into the night before. So we went out just the two of us, a woman's night if you wish. First to an Irish pub (photo 1) then to a smoky German beer pub (photo 2) which has become my favorite place in Odessa. I have been replacing dinners with beer and dried fish. Beer and dried fish, I am sure, is not a healthy alternative to dinner, but it seems to be the way things are done in my host family and how can I resist?

Duke Richelieu and the Black Sea

This photo is taken from the top of the Potemkin Steps. The statue of Duke Richelieu looks out down the steps and into the black sea, which you can see if you look closely at the photo. It was cloudy, sorry.

Yesterday I talked Genya into taking me to the central market "Privoz", which was dirty, crowded, and smelly, as it should be. I loved it. I was a lot like the one in Kishinev, except there was a significantly better selection of produce (though not really of meat or dairy, which there was a whole lot of in Kishinev too). My favorite part of the "Privoz" was the section with Korean pickled products sold by people who were very Korean and spoke perfect Russian, and they were at least 100% nicer and less obnoxious than the Russian sellers. There wasn't any Kimchi, but the stuff they sold was an interesting hybrid between Korean and Russian side dishes and salads. And no mayonaise!! I picked up some spicy shredded carrot salad and some "soy meat with shredded carrots" which was really tasty and reminded me a bit of gluten. All of the Korean ladies were basically selling the same exact assortment of salads made from different kinds of cabbage and carrots and different types of pickles. You could try each and see which you liked best. The very unsanitary section with dead poultry was pretty scary in the context of Avian Flu so I tried to stay away from it. (Apparently there is a live bird section which has been closed due to an Avian Flu case in Ukraine - that's the word on the street anyway.) I was forced to walk through the meat section which had a horrible stench and made me want to vomit profusely. (Genya insisted it was the only way to the dairy section, and I got very mad when I realized it was just a shortcut.)
This is Genya, my 16-year-old host sister whom I have been writing about. This is her in her favorite cafe in town. She is not posing with the least bit of irony. I'm serious.

This is a cat, the owner of which I interviewed last week. Cats here are more obnoxious and curious than the ones in the US. I think that's because they are usually not neutered or spayed. Lots of old people seem to have cats with attitudes. And a few days ago I had a semi-stray cat (fed by the Hesed welfare center, and allowed in once in a while) try to climb right up my leg and into my lap and then steal my chair when I got up for a second.

Psychoanalysis

Over the last few days I've interviewed some interesting veterans of the Winter War with Finland and WWII. Pictured here is Leonid Davidovich Schwartz who gave me a pretty good idea of how horribly prepared the Red Army was at the beginning of WWII, and how terribly they were doing in those first weeks. He was an aviation engineer of some sort and told me that in the first few days of the war 90% of the planes in his aerodrome were destroyed. One day they were sent to the banya (bathhouse) and their last 5 planes were destroyed in an aerial bombardment. With no planes there was nothing left for him to do so he was sent to a Tank Corps. Later in the war he was forced to swim across the Dnepro river with the Germans on the opposite shore ("So many died from my corps that day, the river was red," he told me). His jacket with medals and honors was really impressive. As one can imagine, these people are very proud of their service. My grandfather didn't talk to me much about his service in the wars, and I never saw his medals or honors (my mother says she doesn't know what happened to them, but she thinks they were confiscated from him). I can only imagine he was just as proud.

Yesterday I met with an awesome Odessa historian by the name of Anna Mishuk. After skimming through grandpa's autobiography for only about 15 minutes, she had some of the best insight of anyone I've talked to about the book, and also some great advice on how to approach my project. The first thing she said to me was: "Your grandfather was a very Soviet person." She explained that for him politics, history, and official business was most important. That he totally separated his private life (his wife and family) from public and official matters (like those he writes about in his autobiography). I had wondered for a long time why there is no mention of my grandmother in the book, or of my grandfather's marriage, and very little about his daughters (mentioned only in passing in the section on immigration). Honestly, it was sort of a relief to hear Anna tell me she thought this was normal and understood it perfectly in the context of his life and times, and that it said nothing of his devotion.
Anna and I discussed how her mother (and my grandmother) are embarrased to be seen outside without make-up, or how they're even more embarrased to go outside with a walker ("but people will see me and what will they think!"). It is a mentality she claims in very Soviet, and a mentality she thinks comes through very clearly in the book. There are very few parts in which grandpa's emotion comes through, and upon reading a section about my grandfather's encounter with a starving Leningrad family during the blockade Anna claimed she could feel that he was embarrased having to admit that his emotions got to him that day.
Anna suggested that instead of translating the whole book and take out excerpts and make the rest a commentary and sort of analysis of the autobiography, of my grandfather, and of the people of his generation (informed by my interviews). I've been thinking about this point of view, and about integrating this sort of thinking into my project, but I don't think I want to take it as far as she has. I'm afriad this would distance me from the book and from my grandfather, and I don't really want to do that. I have to think about keeping this both personal and also academic.

Odessa at Dusk

Yesterday it finally got sunny enough for me to take a few photos. I'm glad I took the opportunity because we had a big snow storm last night and it hasn't yet stopped snowing. The traffic jams here are horrible - I feel like it's big city traffic trying to get through small town cobblestone streets. The second two photos are of the famous opera house, which my mother claims is a replica of the one in Paris (though my wikipedia research has claimed otherwise).