Of Black Swans and Pigeon Livers

Yesterday, Ira took me to see “Swan Lake” at the National Opera and Ballet Theater in Kyiv. We went in early to hang out and also to see if I could get a transformer at Tsum, the enormous department store that I think is somehow related to the “Gum” megastore in Moscow.

Getting ready took much of the day, what with baths, hair and manicures. I also had to study, so even though I got up at 8am to run in the park with my fellow cluster mate, Larry, suddenly it was 3pm and time to go.

We ran into other cluster mates Chris and Maria at Tsum. After unsuccessfully looking for a transformer, Ira and I bid Chris and Maria goodbye and wandered around Kyiv for a while. I was able to avoid going back to the 3 story underground mall that Ira loves and reminds me of parts of modernity that I dislike. Next time, we’ll go there, in deference to Ira.

This time I got to see some beautiful parts of the downtown area, including a monument to a cat that saved its owners by alerting them to a fire. The city has many ornate buildings (I’m sure there’s a predominant style, but I’m woefully uninformed about architecture) and much has been restored, some well done and many done then painted in what I consider gaudy colors. Nevertheless, the city has a strong European feel, with many cobbled streets and squares, and many spots that Ira kept pointing out as spots where cafes will open later in the spring.

Ira gets really excited when she hears other people speaking English and hastens to point this out to me. I’m rather a curmudgeon and usually grunt and change the subject.

We ate at the coolest cafeteria. It bills itself as Ukrainian home cookin’ and seems to really offer good food at reasonable prices. As such it was fully mobbed, but we were able to get a decent cappuccino and dessert and people watch.

Then, the theater! It is simply grand. Ira got us box seats and I felt rather posh sitting there. I realized how lovely it was of her to get the tickets and spend another whole day with me. An aside: I also realized on the metro to Kyiv that I’ve only been living here with Ira and Helena for two and a half weeks! It’s good to remember, especially to appreciate how well things are going and how close I feel to them and how comfortable I am here.

Anyway, the ballet was wonderful. I’ve only been before to the Nutcracker, also by Tschaikovsky, so I was unsure of some things. For example, I don’t know if it is universal ballet behaviour to clap after any good solo, during an act. I also was confused when the principles took a curtain call between acts 2 and 3, suggesting to me that the ballet was over. Also, at some points, the clapping changed to be in unison.

At the ballet, I saw our PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer), Nurse Linda. It was funny to be in such a big city and run into 4 PC affiliated people. There were many expats at the ballet and I’m looking forward to going again and maybe even venturing into opera.

One thing I felt while walking around Kyiv is that I really want to do whatever I need to do these next two years to learn Russian, get a masters in international development, whatever, in order to be able to live abroad and do interesting development work. I feel so lucky to be able to get this training via Peace Corps and in particular the language training.

In a couple of weeks, we’ll go back to Kyiv and have a mid-training conference for a couple of days, then have a 4 day site visit. I’m super excited to find out how far away my apartment is from work, as work is right downtown and I’d be really lucky to be less than 20 minutes from work. I could be as far away as 45 minutes via public transport. The metro here is quite nice and there are many marshrutkas (mini-vans that cost about $.25)

Back to Sunday, when we returned Brovary and the apartment at about 11pm, Helena was waiting up to find out all about our evening. I changed and then came out to find a small meal waiting, along with the ubiquitous chai (tea). Helena had made amazing blini (crepes) w/ a sweet cream cheese filling and also blini with grated apple. There was also a plate of something I at first thought was sautéed mushrooms and I began to worry, as I hate mushrooms. Then I realized it was some kind of meat and it didn’t smell good. I took a tentative bite and realized it was liver. I tried subterfuge by eating the blini, but soon Ira was asking me if I liked the other thing. I took a deep breath and said, “not so much.” I asked what it was, thinking it to be some kind of liver. At first Ira said chicken, then asked for the dictionary.

After a moment’s dictionary perusal, she said, “No, it’s pigeon liver.” Even though I felt guilty for not being grateful for whatever they give me to eat, I must admit to being happy I still haven’t eaten pigeon liver. I think maybe it’s a poor translation, and really it’s game hen or something, or maybe that’s what I tell myself so that I feel better at night. My cluster mate Larry asked somewhat seriously if I thought it was free-range pigeon.

Joking aside, people here live very close to near-poverty and as such, they eat what they have. Not eating something because they don’t like it isn’t a luxury many have. I sometimes forget this fact because people tend to be so well dressed and kempt and because I’m living in a relatively affluent suburb. Even so, there are countless babushka selling something on the street, sunflowers, pickles, gnarled beets and they do this to survive. There are also many babushkas begging and this is difficult to see.

It was a fowl day, full of birds one finds at the park, on stage and on the table.

Ring a death knoll for hot water: the word on the Brovary streets is that it will be officially turned off on April 15. Hmm, US tax day and the end of hot water. I feel lucky that at least I’ve had hot water during the cold weather this past month and at least the temperature is heating up now. Sort of. Anyway, I’ll take it like a Peace Corps Volunteer and pretend I got some really hard assignment instead of the Posh Corps like I did. Sponge baths aren’t so awful, right? Right?

Tonight, the babushka downstairs who is somehow related to Ira and Helena came up to ask me to try to find her friend that lives in America. She’s told me about this person every time we meet and tonight brought up a letter from 1999 w/ a name and address. With Ira translating, she asked me to find her, then maybe see if someone in America could phone her. I told her I’d try to find her phone no. and/or address online first. She hasn’t gotten a reply from this friend since ’99 and she wants to try to find the friend or her daughter to find out what happened. I tried not to promise too much, but it would be cool if I could find an email for the daughter, who apparently is a journalist.

Dobre noch - good night…