I travel to UKRAINE!

I’ve visited Ukraine several times over the last few years: exploring the Carpathian mountains, biking the Crimea peninsula. The countryside is wonderful but it’s the Ukrainians’ smiles and curious questions which always make me return. What kind of car do I drive? What’s my job? Do I ride a horse like Walker, Texas Ranger? For even educated Ukrainians, its almost impossible to get a visa to travel to the West. Even if they could get out, they can hardly pay for the travel. My presence is a window to the outside (western) world that Ukrainians can only otherwise look through by illegally downloading American movies.

E and I walk the shortcut back to the 1-bedroom apartment I’m renting for the next 6 weeks. We follow a broken sidewalk, turn into a dark courtyard, navigate around potholes, overflowing trash bins and abused playgrounds. The apartment is in a four-story bare brick building built during “Cheslov”. E unlocks the ground floor door. We climb the dark stairs. all of the light bulbs have burnt out. This makes it difficult to navigate the drunk sleeping in the third floor stairwell. Rumor has it, the 45-year old was a successful business man until he lost everything and moved back with his parents.

It turns out I’m renting E and her roommate’s one bedroom. They’ll be sleeping on the vinyl, foldout sofa in the living room. No, of course it’s not awkward for them, they say. They just didn’t disclose it on the online rental site. E and X are both law students, 22 years old and saving money to do a master’s degree anywhere outside of the Ukraine. We drink hot tea and chat about life, law and their plans to protest the next day. I’d come this time to Kiev on a mid-life travel break. I hadn’t come to protest.