Street Musicians

This afternoon I spent a few hours in Book Heaven-the little book district near the Arsenalna Metro station, which I stumbled upon in 2007. On my way to and from Arsenalna by way of Kreshchatik and Maidan, I saw quite a number of street musicians performing on accordians, guitars and (I think) a bandura. These hardy souls were plying their wares in Metro stations, tunnels or underground shopping districts. I include a few videos below.

One of these street players--a woman--was playing a most interesting stringed instrument--I am almost sure it was a bandura, a Ukrainian folk instrument of from 20 to 24 strings. She played with great skill, and then stopped playing to ask if I wanted to buy her CD.

I saw two of these musicians (here and here) playing in the same locations in 2007, which means that there are at least a few troubadours who can scrape by on the coins and small bills given to them by appreciative passers-by.

This gives me hope--if even a handful of street minstrels can make their way in Kyiv, then surely I should be able to live my dreams anywhere in the wide world.

Long Run in the Cold

Today I did a long run of about ten to twelve miles, primarily over hills, ending up at the World War II Monument. It was bitterly cold, and halfway through the run the wind kicked up and it started to snow lightly.

I first ran through the Volodymyrska Hill Park, then down to Kreshchatik and up the hill on the other side and through the Friendship Arch and to the base of the Trukhaniv Ostriv Bridge. I then had planned to run south through the heavily wooded section along the Parkovo Doroga, but found a pack of very large stray dogs zealously guarding their sylvan territory so cut back down to Grushevskovo Blvd., and so south parallel to river past Arsenalna, the Park of Eternal Glory, Pecherska Lavra and then further south down the hill to the base of the roadway leading to the World War II Monument. The only obstacle on this route was adjacent to the Presidential Palace, where they have inexplicably closed off the sidewalk, forcing pedestrians into the street. Whatever.

At the World War II Monument I ran around the hill, waved at the sleepy guard manning the security booth, and then onto the museum plaza with its vast array of World War II tanks, planes and artillery pieces, then finally up the grand sequence of stairways to exit. This last section reminded me of the first "Rocky" movie, and I almost wanted to pump my fists as I surmounted the last flight of steps.

The centerpiece of the monument is the 200 foot tall Motherland statue at the top of the cone-shaped hill. At the monument there is a continuous playing of dramatic music, including operatic pieces and patriotic music of the 1940's, as a backdrop to the monumental works of art on the hill. I include a video taken at the monument.

Dear Jonathan: This is for You

To my dear son in law, Jonathan:

I found another accordian for you in Ukaine. Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy it.

Your loving father-in-law.

P.S. Is that really all you want for Christmas ?

The Sun Appears

After an entire week of overcast skies, sub-freezing temperatures and snow, the Sun showed its welcome face today. I left the apartment at nine for an excursion to Kyiv-Pecherska Lavra, taking the Metro to Arsenalna, where I came up to see blue sky and sunlight for the first time. The wide sidewalks of Hrushevs'kovo, which connects Arsenalna and Pechersk Lavra were filled with pedestrians (including, wonder of wonder, children!), and everyone seemed in very good humor. When I took a picture of the sun on the sidewalk, some utility workers called to me, "What about us?"

Navigating the Metro

It is now about 5:30 p.m. I had a wonderful day. I first decided that I needed to learn how to use the Metro system. I purchased a couple of little green plastic tokens at a cashier's station (they cost 50 kopiykas each, or half a griven). I deposited my token in the turnstile, then followed a vast throng of people and we descended into the entrance at Lva Tolstovo. Here you descend into a long escalator, perhaps several hundred feet long, into a cathedral like space with archways opening onto parallel tracks, one on each side. I noted that some of the ornate grillwork bore the year, "1960," so I am assuming that is when it was built or refurbished. There is also, embossed in the brick and cement work, colored signs showing the direction of travel, all of the succeeding stops, as well as connections down the line. The trains come rushing in every few minutes, pause probably twenty seconds, and then hurtle off down the tunnel. After observing the procedure for a few minutes, I ventured into the subway car headed for the Maidan station. There I disembarked, and found the connecting tunnel which leads to the sister station, Chreschatik, which is on a different line.

The connecting tunnel is amazing. It has a high arched ceiling, and the whole thing gradually rises, then falls again to the other station. The connecting tunnel must be considerably longer than a football field. It was here that I met my new friend, Valery, playing his accordian for passing change.

At Chreschatik, I again observed and studied the signs, then boarded an east bound train for Arsenalna, a station further east. It was here that I hoped to begin a walk down the Dnieper River to Pecherska Lavra. When I got to the surface, however, I found that it was now raining steadily. I paused in the square at Arsenalna long enough to watch a plainly dressed woman, wielding a very old-fashioned looking broom, sweeping a spot for her to display her fresh flowers. I also inspected the Arsenalna statue, which is a war memorial, noting both the remaining sickle and hammer imagery of the former Soviet Union, as well as the poignant flowers and bouquets recently laid there.

Deciding to go to Pecherska Lavra another day, I again descended into the Metro at Arsenalna. Here the depth of the train platform is amazing. There two very long escalators leading down, each of which was easily 3-400 feet.

I left the Metro at Chreschatik, and decided to look for "Arena City," where I understood a somewhat Western-like grocery store exists. I had in hand the handwritten notes from the family of one of the other judge instructors, giving directions. Their teenage daughter wrote the notes out and, not knowing any Russian or Ukrainian, had drawn a very nice picture of the Cyrillic words "Мандарин Плаза" ("Mandarin Plaza")and logo on the grocery store door. I soon became lost trying to navigate the streets of downtown Kyiv, but in my travels, I recognized the logo and words written by the judge's daughter, and so decided to buy groceries. I purchased a couple of loaves of bread, some butter, honey, milk, orange drink, cheese, oranges and cold cereal. Upon leaving Mandarin Plaza, I asked a uniformed security guard how to get to the Lva Tolstovo Metro stop. He told me that it was only one street away and showed me the direction. I was quite proud of myself for being able to converse enough to find my way. Incidentally, I must not look like a total American idiot here, because in my travels I had two different people stop me to ask for directions.