It has been a very snowy Holiday Season!

We went for a walk on Orthodox Christmas Eve, and there was high pressure in the air. It was cold and crisp, and we enjoyed the briskness of it all.

And, smokestacks in the distance, which are actually pretty close!

Unfortunately, not all of the creatures like the cold so much.

Hungry Buggers!

On our walk from the Metro we caught some varmints finding refuge on the ground over some heated pipes (below the surface). Obviously the heat was significant, as it melted all of the snow in a 2-3 meter patch. Actually, there are lots of these spots around apartment buildings — It’s fairly common to see a group of 4 manholes oriented in a square. I guess there’s a room down there, with valves and stuff, to regulate the flow of water, etc… Anyway, we could see the steam spewing from the crack around a manhole cover. The pooches actually seemed pretty happy there – as they should – because there are many dogs (and other animals) out in the cold (especially outside of the city) that aren’t as lucky, and don’t make it through the winter. They first barked. But their defensiveness quickly turned to curiosity when we stopped walking. They were obviously just hoping we’d give them something to eat. No luck, and no love, as we had nothing to offer, and didn’t want to touch their [potentially] nappy fur.

We were on our way to pay our buddy for storing my Dnepr 11 (motorcycle) for the winter. As we walked through the park adjacent to the Metro, we snapped a couple of wintery pictures. Here’s a great view of Kiev’s “TV” tower – although everything has gone the way of digital cable now.

The TALLEST lattice steel structure in the WORLD.

I also became a treehugger for about 10 seconds.

Yep, I put myself on the world wide web.

Incidentally, I think I represent the 1% of the Kiev population that wears a colorful jacket. Everyone else — BLACK, GREY, DARK, DRAB, or Big-Cat patterns.

On our way to pay, we also caught a presumed grandfather playing with his grandson on a sleigh in the snow. There were small hills all over this park – where people sled and play in the winter. Actually, and very sadly, it’s a Jewish Memorial) – read the Wikipedia page and you’ll learn why there are hills here.

It’s a bit fuzzy (sorry), but you get the idea.

woooooo-hoooooooo!

Immediately ahead, we saw the “grown-up” version, and you didn’t need your own vehicle. Frozen tires were awaiting anyone stupid enough to attempt a ride down the icy luge. The main issue was the waviness of the descent. It’s hard to see, but by midway down the hill, you were going to be catching air for sure. Helen said it’s a common way for kids to lose teeth and break collar bones (clavicles) in the winter, when they go head-first. Which is what you do, when you TOUGH!

Be very, very careful...

We chose not to test fate. I like my smile the way it is, and a good dentist is extremely hard to find here in Kiev

After paying the dude, we walked on sidewalks covered in ice for most of the way back home. Kinda sketchy, but you do what ya gotta do. Helen still doesn’t have satisfactory winter boots, and they’ve stopped re-stocking the shelves with winter apparel. Go figure.

We passed by the front side of the Dnepr Motorcycle factory. This is fairly close to what my motorcycle looks like, though mine is (somewhat) warmly tucked away in the back of a garage at the moment.

I don't think this one ever gets off the pole

As we walked, we saw a sign with the time and temperature. Yep it was cold, at only 4:30 in the afternoon:

Just a bit chilly...

But as the night passed, the pressure dropped. Consequently, the clouds returned, along with their associated moisture, and we woke up to a beautiful white Orthodox Christmas (Jan 7).

snowy

Russian New Year is this coming Wednesday (Jan 14). Just one more reason to celebrate in Soviet Style

These people celebrate in a way that is completely foreign to the USA. Forget about the vodka and hot chicks wearing next to nothing in the after hours dance clubs….

This is unregulated, unsupervised, unrestricted, unaccompanied, unwieldy, untamed, unconditional… celebration of the new year.

with fireworks, that is…

It is currently approximately 2:30am (Jan 1, 2009, in Kiev — though it’s still 2008 in the USA), and the fireworks are STILL going strong, all over the City of Kiev. I didn’t get to experience the vastness of the celebration when living on the other side of the Dnipro River, last year. Sure, sure… I saw some fireworks, and I enjoyed them.

But the view from our new apartment is, relatively speaking, OUTSTANDING. We have close to a 225° view if you move from the bedroom to the living room/kitchen.

There are fireworks going off all over the City. Anyone can buy them, anyone can deploy them, anyone can set them off, and everyone can enjoy them.

I hate to say it, but at one point it looked like the landscape view of Baghdad on CNN back in 2002. Lights flashing as explosives went off over all parts of the city. Flashes of light so far away, that you couldn’t hear the sound — but you could definitely see the combustion.

Still, as I write, fireworks are surrounding the environment around us. It is both brilliant and beautiful. It is not like a single celebratory display at the local town center. More like a thousand displays ALL OVER THE CITY. I’m not kidding. I can only assume this will proceed until dawn. Most people stay awake until the sun rises on the new year. I would consider doing so too, but I’m old, and don’t really feel the need to do so… this year.

Well, maybe I’ll set my alarm…

Happy New Year…. and…  С Новым годом!

WITH ALL DUE RESPECT.

It was a neighbor that passed away…

No, I didn’t know him. In fact I don’t really “know” any neighbors, though I do recognize some.
Anyhow, this post isn’t about me, it’s about the man that passed away — and how interesting and different Russians (Ukrainians) approach the passing and burial of their loved ones.

People die all of the time, obviously. Just like little ones are born all of the time. “The circle of life.” And this circle is quite evident in the concrete jungle in which I live. For lack of a better word, I live in a slum. It’s not dirty or nasty, per se, but it is a concentrated with semi-poor people, and the environment has undoubtedly decayed into what I would say is an unattractive neighborhood, where the quality of life is surely sub-standard in comparison to Western ideals. But more importantly, there is a rotation of people. There’s obviously lots of breeding going on… and surely there’s also lots of elderly passing on.
The man had lived in the [attached] building next to ours. So what’s the big difference? Russians (at least around here) have ceremonies for the dead at their houses. Well, I’m not all that sure about the ceremony part – I’m sorta guessing that there’s some sort of wake that goes on inside –> but the official passing of the body from this world into the next (if you believe in that sort of thing) really begins at the family home. Even if the person did not pass away at their home, the body is brought BACK to the home, and prepared for burial. Again, in this case it was in one of the neighbors from an apartment in the adjacent building.

I don’t want to profess that I know much of anything about funerals, and honestly, I know even less about Russian ones. But I thought it would be a meaningful post to share a bit of what I see around me. I’m sure this is a daily event around here, but this is the first I’ve seen directly in front of our apartment. I’ve seen several ambulances, but only one other funeral. Several months ago at another building in our complex, I was returning from the store and noticed many (semi-formally dressed) people had gathered around the building’s entrance. There was a band playing VERY somber music. Indeed, it was a funeral. I was surprised that funerals were happening right here, in front of our homes. I was interested in what was happening, but I stayed far away and just listened to the band for a few minutes. Definitely — a reality check. And then today, this morning, I saw another funeral – in the building immediately next to ours, whose entrance we can (almost) see from our balcony.

From what I’ve gathered, Russian funerals originate in the family home, with the extended family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances visiting the residence on the day of the burial. The body is placed into the casket within the sanctuary of the home (probably with only family in attendance), and is then carried outside to the hearse. Surprisingly, to me, they often have open caskets. And the dead are exposed for everyone to see and visually “say goodbye” to. I thought about it for a moment, and realized there’s no way the casket would fit in the elevator (which is quite small in our very typical concrete Russian “hives”). So I’m assuming that the casket is carried down through the stairwell. My wife told me that it is generally it is carried by family members and close friends (similar to elsewhere, I suppose).
To be honest, my curiosity about the event peaked when I saw the hearse back up into the lane in front of our building — an unusual approach. I didn’t know what was going on. I was just peering out of our balcony, and I saw the small bus intentionally reverse into the lane in front of the building. “Why would someone do that,” I asked myself. Then I saw ~20 people or so gathering at the entrance of the building. I’m embarrassed to say that I thought it was a wedding, and the bus was for transport! Then I realized that people were not very joyful at all, and many were wearing black. I then noticed that the hearse (basically a small bus) had all of its window shades drawn – so that you could not see into it at all — and I thought that was a bit odd, indeed. All of my observations took place withing about 15 seconds, and I quickly realized it was a funeral, not at all a wedding.
I couldn’t actually see the door to the building, so I couldn’t tell exactly when things were happening. But sure enough, soon after the hearse stopped I saw people line up on either side at the rear, and the driver of the hearse opened the back hatch.

A young man held up a small (paper-sized) framed picture of the deceased. It was from yesteryear, when the man was in the prime of his life. Most of the women wore scarves on their heads, and many men had scarves tied around their arms. Others held flowers or supported standing wreaths. The top of the casket came out of the apartment building entrance first. And then the man in his final resting place. I took a couple of pictures with the utmost respect, only to share my experience with others that, like me, have never seen or really experienced such an event. I blurred the man’s face to maintain anonymity, in respect of him and the rest of his family.

I was moved, emotionally. I know that people die. But in my experience (in the West), death is something that people don’t want to be too close to. Here, it’s a bit more raw – where outright displays of emotions – respect and adoration – for the man (or woman) that has passed is allowable, and even fostered in a final exposed exodus from one’s residence.

May this man, and all men, women, and children that have lived on this earth -

Rest In Peace.

Yep,

hard to believe, but I was there. His house is on the right, and a church is in the background. My wife got an invite, and I was allowed to attend as her guest. Man, did I get a look at the table from the secretary checking off names. I even “dressed up” for the occasion — but obviously we were under dressed when compared to the fully adorned dignitaries in attendance: virtually all of whom were wearing their best stuff — crowns, jewels, cuff-links, pins, wings, hats, regalia, etc… Moreover, only the rabbi and some Greek orthodox dude had beards, . Anyhow, I was miffed at the idea that some American secretary would even smirk at my attendance. Whatever.

So, we enter the compound (I mean, Ambassador’s residence) and begin waiting in a long line to pass the gate. Various officials kept passing us in line and letting themselves in. I’m wondering what we’re waiting for? Ahhhh… I see.. To greet (introduce) and shake the American Ambassador William Taylor’s hand. As soon as I saw that, I bailed outta line. “Where’s the beer? – there’s supposed to be free beer…” I asked my wife. We skedaddled over to the beer line, and I obtained a frosty summer beverage (Славутич, on draught), and began to mingle.

We passed by the cake table, and I had to snap this picture. I did elicit just a bit of homesickness, I have to admit. So we meandered up to the top, fairly large lawn and grabbed a little pulled beef BBQ sandwich, some salad, and some salsa. Good stuff. Our family doesn’t really eat much beef, so it tasted extra good! Before too long I needed a bevvy refill, and we headed down to the salmon tent. Whoa — AWESOME fish. GIANT salmon were baked on wood planks in huge BBQs — and they came off steamin’. I think I had 3 portions along with my second beer. Just as we began feasting on the Pacific Northwest delight (we were conveniently perched right in front of the salmon line), the Ambassador began addressing the 300-400 person gaggle of American semi-royalty (not really).

Nice guy, that Mr. Bill. The other guy (on the left) was the interpreter, though Willy tried to speak (and somewhat successfully, I might add) a bit of Ukrainian to the people. Looking out to the right (not shown) were ~3 or 4 levels of lawns and shrubs where people were eating, drinking, and watching the Ambassador’s address. The first picture shows a mid-level view. So we helped ourselves to the fish while everyone’s back was turned towards the serving tables. Damn good stuff.

We then walked around a bit and ran into a couple of people that Helen knows. We met a Marine and his wife, an Air Force Major and his wife, a Navy guy and his wife, and several others that were consular attachés. Funny — I never thought I’d find a reason to use that those words in print, but there you have it. It was fun… we chatted, talked about typical American stuff, and how it is to be an American living here. Of course, all of these folks are really quite isolated in their experiences. I won’t go into it, but they pretty much have their lives planned for them — where to live, where to work, when to travel, where your driver is supposed to take you, etc… I, on the other hand, live in Troeschina; my favorite white ghetto this side of the Mississippi. I get to see real life in Kiev

So we chatted for a while, and enjoyed the July 4th BBQ and the American colleagues. Mmmmmm M&M’s. We passed out some business cards to try to drum up business for Helen (God knows there’s plenty of need), and we called it an evening after about 3 hours.

Definitely my first 4th of July in a former Soviet block country!!!

Man do these people like fireworks. Well, what’s not to like about them, after all. It is a part of most celebrations, and they can be purchased anytime — all year long — across the city.

What’s kind of scary is the overall reckless way that Ukrainians tend to go about lots of things — and then you go ahead and give them a license to set off explosives? Crazy.

I saw some kids that couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9, setting off “roman candles.” Granted, they aren’t the most dangerous of fireworks, until you point them at someone’s head.

Above is a picture of us celebrating with friends on Ukrainian Christmas (Jan. 7). It wasn’t easy to catch the picture, timing wise…

Also, to give you an idea of the magnitude of publicly available fireworks, I took a video on New Year’s (Jan. 1st, at like 3AM) in front of our house. I thought it was awesome! There were tons of fireworks going off, all night long. Car alarms going off all over the place, constant explosions, flashing lights, champagne popping, etc…
Download Fireworks on New Year’s morning, 2008! Kiev, Ukraine.