I flew into Kiev a couple of days ago. We took an unusual approach, and flew right over Kiev. Our home is not visible in the picture (more to the left), but this is a picture taken when the plane was almost exactly over downtown, looking south, along with the flow of the great Dnepr River.

Anyhow, this was the first time I had seen a U.S. Air Force airplane at Kiev Airport. In fact, after we disembarked from our plane and boarded the shuttle bus from the tarmac to the terminal, I saw a second US plane. The one in front was a C17 transport, I think. I can only guess what physically rolled out of it in order to protect Dick.

Ugh…

That’s right. USA Vice-President Dickhead Cheney was visiting (I was to find out later). OK, fine, I’ll just spit it out:  I cannot stand the current US Administration — Bush, Cheney, Karl Rove (though he’s not officially a member), and all of the other F*ckers. They are evil, greedy, etc ….  the list goes on and on, and I’m sure I don’t need to repeat it here. Whew… glad I got that off my chest.
Anyway, I’m guessing that the plane behind the C-17 was Cheney’s private US Government jet (Air Farce 2, or something like that).

Look, I love being an American, and I never shy away from representing the USA. I’m proud of it. But damn… I surely didn’t vote these assholes into office. There must be a lot of stupid Americans out there. Or, oh yeah, somebody made (is making) a lot of money by rigging the electronic voting machines. Surprised? Don’t be.
When I arrived I obviously knew something was going on, but I had no idea what. I hadn’t heard that Dick (or any other high ranking USA official) would be visiting the Ukraine. Not that it’s all THAT unusual, but the airport was truly a mess when we tried to physically exit… cars everywhere, and we had to practically walk out off the airport grounds to get picked up (they wouldn’t let Andre into the roundabout to pick us up). Anyhow, on the drive away from the airport there were militzia everywhere: military guys in grey/black camouflage, hats, walkie-talkies, etc… (I didn’t see them with guns) lining the ~10 mile road into Kiev. There was at least one man every 500 meteres on each side of the road. Seriously. Overboard.

Here’s the pic:

That’s all. Just was incredibly surprised that we parked our Lufthansa jet right next to an American transport jet and “Air Force 2.”
The next day Cheney was in Italy. Putz.

I have to say, Russians love their flowers. Sure, sure… every culture (that I’ve experienced) around the world appreciates the simple beauty of Spring flowers. They represent the essence of life in the plant kingdom and beyond.

All around Kiev they are planted, nurtured, and cared for in places that you wouldn’t (per se) expect them. There are plenty of places where where there’s nothing but concrete, rubbish, detritus, garbage, junk, trash… it looks as if nobody cares about the spot, and nothing is going to get cared for there — but then, then you see a beautiful patch of Lilies in the middle of nowhere. And right then, you look over, and see a shortened and old brooded grandmother on her hands and knees, watering and tilling the soil that supports these phenomenal expressions of natural beauty.

I can’t say that I’ve taken many pictures of those flowers in the middle of nowhere, but I have taken quite a few at and around our summer house.

Here’s a selection:

These are from our potatoes:

And the rest of the pics below are from the field. In just a small area were I busted out the camera, I saw several small and very beautiful flowers as part of the ground cover.  There are many more, but here are a few pics.

Ahhhhh — I wish you could smell them all too. Maybe someday

So, please excuse the slowness in posting again.

(not that anyone is really reading this… I think it’s just my cerebral sounding-board)

Anyway, we were in Prague for a few days — Then Marianske-Lazne, and now Paris.

Here are a few pics.

Red Roofs over Prague

Horses pulling a Carriage

Old Town, Praha

And a visit to the Brewery was a must!
Catch you later!

One of the more recent additions to the transportation in larger cities in Ukraine are short buses. No, not exactly the kind that would take you to the school for special kids, but similar. The are nearly all yellow. They come in various shapes and sizes, generally with 15 to 30 seats. They look like the picture on the left, more or less.They zip around the city pretty well, and they are (currently) super cheap by American transportation standards. To get across town it can run you 1-2 Hrivna (where a Hrivna = 0.2 US dollars). So, not so bad from the monetary side of things. Also on the positive side, they have pre-specified routes, and a one price anywhere scheme. You go one stop, it’s the same price as 10 miles away.

On the more in your face side of things (literally), you are often crammed into these tin cans tighter than sardines, tighter than Pam Anderson’s bathing suits… tighter than a duck’s butt. It’s really absurd. You have to experience it to know what it feels like to be plastered in between Victor and Andrei after not showering for 2 weeks. Imagine being 20 meters deep in a cesspool, even though you have your scuba suit on (Nasty!) … and the ride has just begun! Fortunately, whenever given the opportunity or excuse, it seems that people don’t work — which is the ideal time to ride the bus!

Speaking of the ride, it can be brutally long. Particularly for people who work on the opposite side of the river Dnepr (as is the case for my wife), the bridges can be extremely congested. Sure, when it’s holiday time, or perhaps the weekend, the ride across the Dnepr ain’t too bad. Cars are the problem during the work week. You can generally get into Kiev city center in about 40 minutes without traffic. But when everyone goes to work during rush hours, you can STAND sandwiched in between Lyudmila and Olga, each of you getting intimate with each others’ typically restricted anatomical regions, for up to 2 hours. No shit… 2 hours of standing intimately with strangers, face to face, all to go ~5 miles. Absurd if you ask me, and one of the main reasons I refuse to get a job in the city.

Moreover, in the winter it can be freezing cold outside (right now it is -12°C), so the windows on the minibus stay closed: the chilled breathe condenses on the frozen transparent SiO2, all awhile you unwittingly become innoculated by festering infectious bugs, spewing around the cabin with ever cough, sneeze, and wipe of a runny nose (which precedes the grasp onto the community handrail). In the summertime, it gets so ridiculously hot that you can often see through people’s limited clothing, which, trust me, is not as pleasant as you might imagine. As you squeeze your way out of the bus, your escape is facilitated by the sweat dripping pores from various unattractive derma. On the bright side, at least it makes it a bit easier to get outta there. The main problem in the summer is that the bus sometimes STOPS on the bridge, or sometimes a mile or two before the span, and then slowly crawls across the river. Even with all the windows open, and the pop-tops expanded, when the air is still and it is 40°C outside, the taxi-cab colored Marshrutkas become Ukrainian hot-boxes; you can almost smell the slow cooking of human flesh, and feel one’s brain morphing into a more gelatinous consistency, losing the precious gyri and sulci that offer such intelligence. The only really intelligent blokes at that point, are the punks that bring cold bottles of beer onboard, thereby serving the dual purpose of keeping oneself a smidgen cooler than the rest, and concomitantly pickles ones brain enough to endure the trek one more time.

The buses themselves vary in quality (sorry, I haven’t take pictures specifically of the buses, but I will try to add them sometime). Some have been driven into the ground, and desperately need new seats and about a gallon of bleach. Most are painted on the inside with white paint, and all are decorated with three images of Russian Orthodox Icons — there to protect the bus and all its passengers. Other buses are a bit more sylized (often Mercedes), and boast a dark fuzzy, felt-like interior. You feel like you are in a rock-band tour bus instead of a Greyhound, if you know what I mean. Some have curtains, some do not. Some have working tail lights, some do not. Virtually all have some sort of rail system built into the bus to allow passengers to hang on (sometimes for dear life). I’ve only heard of a couple of minibus accidents — and those are not pretty. They are big enough to impart the frequent bulk of momentum that goes into the incident, but of course, the bus contains up to 50 people (perhaps more) all without restraining mechanisms (more on seat belts in another post sometime). In general, however, it seems like the minibuses have established a respected and important transportation presence in the City, and most (I said, most) other drivers allow them to get around, in and out of traffic without too many altercations.

Another questionable aspect to the whole process is payment. Did you know that Marshrutka drivers are able, incredibly as it may sound, to process up to 5 payments at the same time, while driving full speed across a bridge in 4 (sometime 5 if people squeeze) lanes of traffic. It truly is impressive. Then again — I cannot really see their eyes to know if these talented individuals are, in fact, capable of keeping one eye on the road while eagerly counting their take with the second eye. I often close mine.

Also, as you might expect, people fight for seats. Oh yes. Well… OK, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I have not seen any fights; but seats are coveted items in them there buses. If a vacant seat is on the bus when it pulls up, you get on and go straight to the seat. You then proceed to pass your money up to the front while staking out your spot with your tuchus. I guess the thought is that if you don’t get up, nobody can take it from you. You don’t stop to pay the driver on the way onto the bus, because someone else will see the empty seat and squeeze by you, sit down, and then pay later. Occasionally I have witnessed a hired hand (I’m presuming) that sits facing the rear of the bus, watching like a hawk who gets on and off – ensuring proper payment. On many of the medium and large designs, there are doors at the front and rear: doors that, if you are not careful, will injure you during opening and closing. Back to the payments — generally you simply tap the person’s shoulder in front of you and tell them how many (if you are expecting change) people you are paying for. Needless to say, it requires some interaction with Russian (or Ukrainian) speaking individuals — which can, on your first time or two, be scary. Nevertheless, the money chain generally makes it to the driver, and you get your full change without a problem. Oftentimes the rider who sits immediately next to the driver serves as a liaison cashier — depending on the driver’s trust, this person may actually delve out change so as to not distract the driver from their necessary responsibilities on the road.

Finally, although the routes and fares are established by the government (I think), each bus is independently owned and operated (I think). So needless to say, the driver wants to make as much cash as possible during the back-and-forth treks across town (over and over and over again, all day long — I have to shoot myself). Thus, they often wait for any opportunity to get additional riders. They DO NOT CARE how packed the buses get. If there is room, they will take you and your money — even if you are squeezed so tightly that your diaphragm seems to not work anymore, that is YOUR problem. Often the people at the doors get the most squished, because the people at the back of the bus (or in the middle in the 2-doored designs) establish some breathing space around themselves by widening their stance, stretching out their elbows, or angling their body in such a way as to not face anyone else en face. Even if the bus is packed to the gills, a driver will generally stop to allow the next sucker to attempt to board — all for another $0.25 USD.

Incidentally, traveling by car is is even more frightening. It will undoubtedly be the subject of another post or two.