FROM KIEV, UKRAINE

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Kiev: A City That Grows on You  

KIEV, Dec 1, 2006 - My first (negative) impressions of the Ukrainian capital have improved quite a bit over the last couple of days, as I got to see more of the city.  Kiev is a city that grows on you.  The more you see, the more you like it.  And here's some of what I saw today...

This enormous statue of a woman with a sword and a shield - Mother Ukraine - is a part of huge WW II memorial, situated close to the banks of the river Dnyepr (see the map above).

And this is the entrance to a bank that I visited this morning.  Overall, I have found security to be very tight in most establishments here, even more so than in Moscow.  At the entrance to one office building that housed  a part of the British embassy, for example, the undercarriage of every car is checked with mirrors, as are both the hood and the trunks.  Given the absence of large scale violence or terrorism in this country, the only way I can explain that is by figuring that the Ukrainians believe in the "it's better to be safe than sorry"-principle.

Back near my hotel, atop the hill on which the old town Kiev lies, I took this picture of the river Dnyepr.  A large statue (there are a lot of very large statues in this city!) visible through the tree branches, depicts a holy man with a cross, as if blessing the river and the sailors on it.

View of the more industrial part of the city, including a busy harbor in the distance.

Remember St. Michael's Patriarchate from the first Kiev travelogue?  Here it is again, this time as seen from the riverside.

Walking along the Patriarchate's fence, I came across this scene.  A man offering rides on a small horse (I don't know the name of this breed, but I know I had seen them in Asia). 

Right next door to the Patriarchate is this imposing structure.  "This has got to be the presidency or the parliament," I figured.  Wrong.  It turns out this is Ukraine Ministry of Foreign Affairs, i.e., their "State Department."  If this building is supposed to be an indication how important foreign relations are to this country, then the message is quite clear.

Just down a very pretty street, along river bank from the "State Department," is the British Embassy.  And bit farther from that is a row of very beautiful buildings, including the peach colored one that houses a museum.  I could not help but notice that even in third world countries one can see evidence of wealth, as represented by the Hummer and the Beamer in this photo.

You may have noticed from the previous shot a hint of baroque-style church.  Voila!  This is what St. Andrey's church looks like closer up.

The church was built in the 18th century on the hill where the old town Kiev rests, and it dominates the city skyline as seen up from the river.

Kiev streets are full of surprises, especially in this old part of the city.  Here's, for example a bronze statue depicting a young man proposed to a woman of his heart.  Both are clad on the late 19th century-early 20th century garbs.  The building in front of which this statue is places is the Ministry for Family Affairs and Sports.  I am not sure I see any direct connection between the statue and the ministry's function.  Maybe that the artwork is supposed to symbolize the start of a family?

Right across the street is an ancient market, now being used by souvenir and art peddlers.  The building with the green facade in the background was constructed in the 1911-1912 timeframe on the site of another ancient palace that dates back to the 10th and 11th century.  See what I mean by an old city?

I returned to the old city center this evening to say goodbye to my favorite sites.  The St. Michael's was basking in floodlights.

And that's all she wrote from Kiev, a city that grows on you.

Epilogue: Leaving Kiev

The Kiev airport has only two jetways, so passengers have to be bussed to most flights.

SCOTTSDALE, Dec 3 - Arriving in Kiev was hard.  Leaving it was harder.  Not because I was heartbroken.  Because the circumstances made it so hard.  Here's an excerpt from my letter that summarizes what happened (click on thumbnail images to enlarge them).

I am sending you this from aboard my Lufthansa flight to Denver.

Hope you got my two phone messages.  Oh, boy... what a nightmare this
homebound trip has been.  Since I left my hotel this morning around 6AM,
just about nothing has gone as planned.  The taxi driver tried to rip me off
by asking for $50 instead of the $30 that my hosts here told me it would
be.  Of course, I did not have that much money in Ukrainian currency as I
changed just enough for the fare that my hosts told me.

We ended up in a shouting match, each speaking a different language.  He
called his dispatcher who said he should charge $40.  I did not have that
much, either. And even if I did, I would not have paid him that much for
what amounted to a ransom.  I gave him what little extra money I had.  He
finally and reluctantly opened the trunk and gave me my bags.  Overall, it
was an ugly situation that accentuated all other hassled I've endured on
this trip.

Once at the check-in counter, I discovered that there was a mix up with my reservation.  That took about 20 mins to sort out. 

Once in the business lounge, I was impressed that they had wireless connection here at Kiev.  Alas, I could only receive but not send e-mails, the same problem I originally had at my hotel.  Given how much effort that took to resolve, I did not even try it here.  Will just send you this from Frankfurt.

Next came the flight delay.  Our scheduled departure time was approaching
and no one was making a boarding announcement.  With about 20 mins left, I
went to the gate anyway.  Nobody at the check in counter.  Only the airport
security staff who knew nothing about nothing.  The scheduled departure time
came and went, and still no person at the counter, nor any announcement,
either over the speakers or on the flight monitors.  I was ready to pop my
tonsils, but kept telling myself to keep my cool as there was obviously
nothing that I could do about it.

Finally, after about 50 minutes, an airline agent sauntered to the check-in
desk, and lazily started to open the door and commence the boarding process.
When my turn came, I asked her what the reason for the delay was.  "I don't
know," she said with the shrug that indicated she did not care, either.
Once on board, I asked the crew the same question.  "Fog in Frankfurt," was
the answer.  "And do you always keep your passengers in the dark about
delays.  I have a connection to make, you know.  And looks like I might miss
it, too."

I did.  The irony was that the Ukrainian jet parked right next to my
scheduled Delta flight.  But, of course, the bus had to take us two miles
away to another terminal for processing.  This is where a nice Frankfurt
airport agent confirmed that I had definitely missed my Delta flight.  "So
what do we do now?" I asked. "You have to go through immigration, and then
renter the main terminal, where I will assist you in getting the Ukrainian
Airline agent to rebook you."

"Oh, my God," I said out loud.  "Not the Ukrainians again.  They are the
reason I missed my flight in the first place."  But she promised to stay
with me through all this, and did.  "Thank God for you," I said and meant
every word of it.

The next hassle was at the ticket counter.  Since I had an electronic Delta
ticket, and the Ukrainian Airline tickets are only on paper, it took about half
an hour for them to figure out how to rebook my itinerary.  Finally, they
said they would get me on a United flight to Denver that would put me down
to Phoenix at roughly the same time as my original itinerary.  I nearly
kissed the agent when I heard that.  I never wanted to get home more badly
than at this point of this wretched trip.

But I only had half an hour to make the flight.  And that's no small feat at
an airport as large and complicated as Frankfurt.  I had to "do an O.J."
(sprint through terminals), catch the Skyline train, and arrive at the
United Airlines counter just to find out that the Ukrainian airline made a
mistake, and that the flight I was on was actually operated by Lufthansa.  I
was ready to spit nails by this point.

Luckily, the Lufthansa counters were in the same terminal.  So I got my
boarding passes relatively quickly.  They also changed by baggage tag (in
their computer), though I have grave doubts that I will see my bag tonight
in Phoenix.  But you never know. We'll see...

Then I had to go through no less than four (4!) security checkpoints,
jumping the line each time (with the first passengers' acquiescence), before
finally arriving at the departure gate.  That's when I called you to let you
know about the change of plans.  Ironically, that's when I also heard that
our Lufthansa flight would be delayed by about half an hour.  The reason?
Waiting for the connecting passengers.  I could not help but notice the
difference in the way Lufthansa and Delta treat their passengers.  From now
on, I will try to avoid both Delta and Ukraine if at all possible.

And so that brings us to the present time.  I hope my United Airline flight
from Denver to Phoenix is not delayed.  The forecast for Denver is cloudy
with occasional snow, with temps between 15F and 20F.  So it doesn't sound
like the kind of weather that ought to be causing delays.  But you never
know with the airlines.  Something else may delay the incoming aircraft.  So
we can just both pray that the rest of the trip goes according to plan, and
that we end up in each other's arms tonight.

I did make to Phoenix, more or less on time last night.  But not before having to go through the hoops again in Denver.  I had to wait for my wayward bag so long that I almost missed my connecting flight.  Finally, I went to a Lufthansa agent to find out the status.  "Oh, you're bag is not on this flight," she said, looking at some printout.  "And you could not have told me that sooner?" I said, shaking my head.  "Sorry, Sir."  

It was par for the course today, the day, that nothing seemed to go right.  And off I went, "doing an O.J." again in Denver.

"It's a minor miracle that I am here at roughly the same time I was supposed to arrive on my original Delta itinerary," I said.  "Frankly, I could not care less if they lost my bag permanently.  There is nothing in it that's irreplaceable." Or priceless.

Except for the memories. They are priceless.  As is being home again.

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