My last few trips had seen me fall for the effortless charms of Lisbon, vibrancy of Berlin, and progressiveness of Sweden's Gotlands island, and I was looking forward to going somewhere that would make me happy to come home. Kiev seemed perfect. I imagined a bleak city of depressed people and endless grey tower blocks, sure to make me love my home city again.
At first sights my stereotype held true: the post-Soviet bureaucracy was immense (having waited an hour at immigration and collected my luggage, I then had to pass it through a scanner before being released); the traffic barbaric (speed limits routinely ignored and often doubled, and under-taking was as popular as over-taking); and the tower blocks enormous, everywhere, and extremely ugly.
But as I strolled the quiet streets I saw beyond the depressing facade and began to notice the quiet contentment of those around me. Ukraine is a vast and very proud country, and Kiev is in many ways a beautiful and impressive city. The centre of town is surrounded by parks and an enormous river, the Dniestr, runs through the city, dotted with green islands. And it's dotted with a number of magnificent Orthodox churches.
The scale of Kiev and the intense nationalism, combined with the lack of English speakers and use of the Cyrillic alphabet, made it an awesome and daunting host.
I was only there for three nights, in order to plan a new project with our Ukrainian and Moldovan partners - which consumed my first day, lasting 12 hours - and to meet with potential stakeholders (a schedule of six meetings on my second day). This required quite a bit of travelling around Kiev, and I can safely say it is the hardest city to navigate I have ever visited.
The main challenge is that it's almost impossible to know where you are, either on the metro or on foot, because all signs are only in Cyrillic. In addition the distances between places are deceptively great, and almost nobody that I asked could speak any English. I am normally punctual, but in Kiev I arrived for every meeting late, dishevelled and exhausted.
Though I must admit part of the delay was due to me marvelling at the stunning Metro stations, the most stunning of which is Teatrina, famed for it's intricate mosaics...
... and imposing Lenin bust
Luckily I did meet one Ukrainian who spoke English. Like a disconcertingly high proportion of Ukrainian women, Olga was beautiful, though she was unusual because she speaks not only English, but perfect Spanish, which she was teaching to local businessmen. She described the widespread political apathy she and much of the country felt, following the broken promises of 2004's much heralded Orange Revolution. Everyone I spoke to repeated that nothing had changed: politics was still corrupt and in the thrall of business interests.
Whilst surprised at the political disaffection - like many naive westerners I too had believed the hype promoted by our media in 2004 - I was also pleasantly surprised by how friendly people were. Ukrainians are known for smiling rarely, and this my experience, but on the whole the people I asked for help (which I was forced to do often) went to great lengths to assist me, despite us not being able to speak a single word of a common language. I was much relieved when, arriving at my final meeting of my final day, I was greeted with a colleague's birthday banquet and a never ending glass of Ukrainian vodka. Many toasts were made, and my hosts were extremely kind. I have never drunk so much in an office before.
So in a strange way I also fell in love with Kiev. I started to feel an affinity with the people of Kiev, and their proud culture. I also revelled in the fact I got so lost, as not only was it challenging and exciting, but it also made me realise and rely on the kindness of strangers, which is often the most life-affirming lesson of travel.
Ukraine will host the European football championships in 2012, and I suspect that the metro stations will finally be translated into Latin script. It will be a great shame.
At first sights my stereotype held true: the post-Soviet bureaucracy was immense (having waited an hour at immigration and collected my luggage, I then had to pass it through a scanner before being released); the traffic barbaric (speed limits routinely ignored and often doubled, and under-taking was as popular as over-taking); and the tower blocks enormous, everywhere, and extremely ugly.
But as I strolled the quiet streets I saw beyond the depressing facade and began to notice the quiet contentment of those around me. Ukraine is a vast and very proud country, and Kiev is in many ways a beautiful and impressive city. The centre of town is surrounded by parks and an enormous river, the Dniestr, runs through the city, dotted with green islands. And it's dotted with a number of magnificent Orthodox churches.
The scale of Kiev and the intense nationalism, combined with the lack of English speakers and use of the Cyrillic alphabet, made it an awesome and daunting host.
I was only there for three nights, in order to plan a new project with our Ukrainian and Moldovan partners - which consumed my first day, lasting 12 hours - and to meet with potential stakeholders (a schedule of six meetings on my second day). This required quite a bit of travelling around Kiev, and I can safely say it is the hardest city to navigate I have ever visited.
The main challenge is that it's almost impossible to know where you are, either on the metro or on foot, because all signs are only in Cyrillic. In addition the distances between places are deceptively great, and almost nobody that I asked could speak any English. I am normally punctual, but in Kiev I arrived for every meeting late, dishevelled and exhausted.
Though I must admit part of the delay was due to me marvelling at the stunning Metro stations, the most stunning of which is Teatrina, famed for it's intricate mosaics...
... and imposing Lenin bust
Luckily I did meet one Ukrainian who spoke English. Like a disconcertingly high proportion of Ukrainian women, Olga was beautiful, though she was unusual because she speaks not only English, but perfect Spanish, which she was teaching to local businessmen. She described the widespread political apathy she and much of the country felt, following the broken promises of 2004's much heralded Orange Revolution. Everyone I spoke to repeated that nothing had changed: politics was still corrupt and in the thrall of business interests.
Whilst surprised at the political disaffection - like many naive westerners I too had believed the hype promoted by our media in 2004 - I was also pleasantly surprised by how friendly people were. Ukrainians are known for smiling rarely, and this my experience, but on the whole the people I asked for help (which I was forced to do often) went to great lengths to assist me, despite us not being able to speak a single word of a common language. I was much relieved when, arriving at my final meeting of my final day, I was greeted with a colleague's birthday banquet and a never ending glass of Ukrainian vodka. Many toasts were made, and my hosts were extremely kind. I have never drunk so much in an office before.
So in a strange way I also fell in love with Kiev. I started to feel an affinity with the people of Kiev, and their proud culture. I also revelled in the fact I got so lost, as not only was it challenging and exciting, but it also made me realise and rely on the kindness of strangers, which is often the most life-affirming lesson of travel.
Ukraine will host the European football championships in 2012, and I suspect that the metro stations will finally be translated into Latin script. It will be a great shame.
Hi, me again, sorry, was intrigued by the title of you blog "a travel blog, of sorts" as travelling is also my "cup of tee" so to say..
ReplyDeleteJust a small comment about the name of the river that runs through Kyiv and divides it in virtual halves, of which the right bank is prettier (as I live there :) ), so the name of the river is Dnepr, and the Dniester that you mentioned runs in the west of Ukraine bordering on Moldova and Romania.
Liked this post perhaps as much as the one on Uganda, though didn't get the las sentence of this post... (well, you said we are a proud nation)...