I Reconnoiter

Last night I returned to the Kyiv apartment near 11:00 p.m. It was odd to return here in the dark--I had not yet seen the apartment or the city in the light. After doing some wash, I went to sleep.

This morning is a new day. It is bright and fairly warm outside, and I scouted out the neighborhood. First item of business was to find some groceries and water. A call to my faithful friend and handler, Olga, led me to a nice little market located in the basement of my apartment building. I got eggs, bread, milk and a huge container of spring water--at least two gallons in size. I had breakfast while listening to a Mozart string quartet and then went out again to reconnoiter the neighborhood. I walked across the street to the Baptizer statue, down the ravine to the National Philharmonic house, then along the crest of the bluff overlooking the river to the great arch monument on a high hill above the river. This arch is called the "Friendship Arch," and supposedly symbolizes the friendship between Russians and Ukrainians. I understand from one source that in Kyiv it is sometimes called "the Yoke," as the relationship historically has been less friendship and more servitude on the part of the Ukrainians. Underneath the arch are two great statues--one a Soviet bronze of two workers--Ukrainian and Russian--holding the seal of the U.S.S.R.--the other one a statue of priests and other participants in the Pereyaslavska Rada of 1654.

Most impressive is the grand viewpoint next to the Yoke Arch overlooking the river, which was blazing with light and vitality in the sunlight of this wonderful day.

Running on Труханів острів (Trukhaniv Island)

My faithful Ukrainian correspondent, Olga Kupriyevych, writes:

"Dan. You can not only run in the park but also cross the Dnipro using the pedestrian bridge and run on Trukhaniv Island in the middle of the Dnipro River. My husband and I used to ski there in winter with our children."

Studying my map, I now see the pedestrian bridge, which is only about 500 feet or so down the hill and across the Vladimyrskyi Descent from the statute of the Baptizer. (In fact, here's a nice picture of the foot bridge behind the Baptizer, which I took in 2007). I read that the bridge was built in 1957 and connects the historic Podil neighborhood of Kyiv with Trukhaniv Island. The Island contains about 4 square miles of forest, meadows and footpaths.

Thanks, Olga! I've got my running shoes all packed.

The New Kyiv Apartment

Corresponding with Chelom Leavitt and Olga Kupriyevych over the last 24 hours, I have received some more detail about the apartment in downtown Kyiv, which will be my home base for much of November. It is located at Triokhsviatytelska St. N

o. 9. It appears from the map and from Olga's excellent description that this apartment is directly across the street from the Volodymyrska Hirka park where the statue of the Baptizer is located overlooking the Dnipro, and only a few minute walk from St. Michael of the Golden Domes. It is also very close to St. Sophia's as well as the Maidan. I also note from the maps and a German language guidebook of Kyiv that I own, that the apartment is almost next door to the Catholic St. Alexander's Church. Olga tells me that it is only a twenty minute walk from the apartment to Taras Shevchenko University, which is one of two Kyiv universities where I will be lecturing. The second university--the National Aviation University, is reached by Marshrutka bus connections.

As I wrote in 2007, this neighborhood is very special to me, and I spent several days exploring this hill and all of its pathways, churches, monuments, gazebos and groves. I spent part of Thanksgiving 2007 writing in the Victorian gazebo overlooking the Dnipro. I also rode the Funicular almost every day from the Metro station at the bottom of the hill up to the rear of St. Michaels. This is also where I attended the very memorable Liturgy in the refectory church of St. John the Theologian, chronicled elsewhere on this site. Below is a view of St. Michaels on the right, and the little refectory church on the left.

Journey Home: The Apartment to Borispol Airport

I arose early this morning to complete my packing, close out the apartment and prepare for the trip home. Olga Kupriyevych arrived a few minutes after eight to tell me goodbye. The apartment manager, Evgeniy, arrived at 8:30 and I was off to the Borispol Airport. It was a cold, foggy morning in Kyiv with the trees appearing like ghosts on the side of the motorway. I had a nice talk with Evgeniy of the drive. He is age twenty-six, married, with two children. He has abandoned a career as a teacher to pursue the real estate business, as he found that he was unable to adequately support his family with teaching.

At the airport I checked in at the Delta counter, went through passport control and customs, and sat down for a long wait of about two hours in the terminal. An hour before takeoff, the passengers on my flight to New York were lead as a group through screening, and I finally boarded the Delta 737 at about noon. This time, the plane was able to come directly to the gate, and I did not have to be transported by bus between the terminal and the plane on the tarmac. We took off at 12:30 and I left Ukrainian soil behind in the fog.

An "Avoska"--Just in Case

I learned a valuable lesson this week from the Leavitt Institute's Ukrainian "handler, confidant and guardian," Olga Kupriyevych. (Olga is pictured here with Ukrainian First Lady, Katerina Yushchenko). On Tuesday night we were walking past the myriad humble food vendors lining the sidewalks near the Byeresteyska Metro station, when Olga spied some very nice looking potatoes. "Oh," she said. "I need some potatoes." She then reached in her blue briefcase and pulled out a large, sturdy plastic sack. She purchased the potatoes and stowed them in the bag, and we were on our way.

She later explained that growing up in a small village north of Kyiv, her grandfather taught her that she should always carry an extra bag. He called this an "авоска," which means, "just in case." Thus, "just in case" you saw something along your way that you needed, you could immediately buy it and place it in your "avoska" without having to return home for something to carry it in.

There is great wisdom in carrying an "avoska" in our journeys. We ought never to be so smug to think that we know it all, or we have all that we can ever need. There will be rich stores of experience, knowledge, friendship and Wisdom along our paths. When we meet someone new, or attain some new insight--think thoughts we have never had before--we should pull out our "avoskas," and go on our way rejoicing. Thanks, Olga, for sharing your rich experience and perspective with me these past two weeks. I will carry them in my "avoska" forevermore.

Food for the Weary Traveler

It took me several days to fall into a rhythm of working and eating which was satisfactory. For the first seveal days after my arrival, I attempted to buy groceries to prepare and eat in the apartment. This was time consuming and awkward, especially since the nearest grocery store is a couple of blocks away. Early on, I also visited McDonalds a couple of times, which is directly across the street from the apartment. This also had great drawbacks, not the least of which is the cultural irony of traveling ten thousand miles from America to one of the great cities of eastern Europe--to eat American food. And, of course, on at least two days a week I would eat at University cafeterias while we are teaching, and Olga has invited me to eat with her a few times (although walking to and from her apartment can be very time consuming.)

In the last seveal days I have fallen into a new, economical and time-saving rhythm of eating Ukrainian food prepared in any number of inexpensive cafeteria style establishments. Here you can buy borsht, shashlik and a wide variety of authentic dishes for a few hyrvnia. I have located a number of these establishments, including one only a block or so from my apartment. I usually visit these establisments twice a day.

I then supplement my daily dining with eating fruit for breakfast--oranges, etc. These can be purchased at a number of street locations, including an excellent fruit stand located on the near corner of Taras Shevchenko park.

A "Reasonable American"

On Sunday night I was invited to dinner at the home of Olga Kupriyevych, the director of the Leavitt Foundation's on-the-ground efforts in Kyiv. Also present was her three year old grandson, Nestor. I took gift books both the Olga and to Nestor, who seemed very anxious to talk to me, and came several times into the living room to invite me to come into the sitting room to talk to him--in Russian, of course, as he knows no English. Actually, I found that I conversed better with Nestor than with anyone else I have spoken to in Russian during my visit.(I guess that is about my level--three year old conversation).

Today Olga told me that Nestor had really enjoyed my visit. He told her that he was very impressed that (unlike the other Judges who have been here this fall) I speak Russian, and that I therefore was "a reasonable American."

The Bells from St. Michael's of the Golden Domes

On this beautiful Sunday morning, as we approached St. Michael's of the Golden Domes from afar, coming from the direction of St. Sophia's Square, we could hear the fabulous ringing of the bells from the Monastery tower. I cannot easily describe the thrill to hear these bells--the swelling, rolling power of it. It shakes one's very soul. I have never heard bells like this, with the intricate melodies through such a full range of the musical scale, from the deepest through the highest ranges. To compare the bells of St. Michael's to any ordinary church bell I have ever heard in the United States, or even in the great cities of Germany where I lived for two years, would be like comparing the song "Happy Birthday" to a Bach cantata. It was thrilling to hear those sweet, heavenly bells.

And then, to cap our wonderful visit to this special monastery, we were invited by the museum docents to ascend to the carillon platform in the bell tower itself and stand immediately below the dozens of bells of all sizes, with their hammers poised, ready for the next hour. Posted in the carillon were the melodies and composers to be played each hour. I hope to be able to have time to return and record the sounds of these marvelous bells.

I noticed on the platform itself a large collection of very aged bell clappers, encrusted with the rust of many decades or centuries, lying in a pile in the corner like a bunch of titanic radishes. The largest of the overhead bells, which appear to be up to eight feet in diameter, appear very old indeed, while many of the smaller bells and their ingenious sounding mechanisms, are obviously very new--probably installed after the fall of the Soviet Union. It invoked contemplation of the silent state this tower likely endured for so many years when the priests were driven from the precincts of the monastery by the Soviet authorities. This gives added beauty and poignancy to the hourly sounding of these glorious bells, as each musical note is a testament not only to religious freedom, but to the freedom of the nation itself. It gives added meaning to the often trite recitation of the words, "Let Freedom Ring." It is a beautiful thing to have the sound of these bells echoing down the streets of this ancient city. As long as the ringing is allowed to continue, all may be well for Ukraine.

Daniel the Chronicler

At the conclusion of our wonderful visit to hear the Ukrainian Orthdox mass presented by the young seminarians at the Refectory Chamber in the very ancient Church of St. John the Theologian, Olga gave to me, as a gift, a beautiful icon depicting "Даниил" (the Old Tesament Prophet Daniel). She then said that I am becoming "Daniel the Chronicler;" that through my descriptions of Kyiv, I will open many eyes, not only of Americans but also of Ukrainians; and that my insights are important to record. This special gift will become one of my most treasured remembrances of Ukraine!

The Ukrainian Orthodox Liturgy at the Refectory Church of St. John the Theologian

This morning I spent one of the most fascinating and instructive hours of my entire stay in Ukraine. I was the guest of my "guide, interpreter and handler," Olga Kupriyevych, in attending a Ukrainian Orthdox liturgy (or "mass," as it would be referred to in western churches) in the Refectory chapel in the Church of St. John the Theologian, which church is on the grounds of the marvelous monastery known as St. Michael's of the Golden Domes. I say that I attended "a Ukrainian Orthdox Mass" very deliberately, because the supervision of St. Michael's falls under the Patriarchy of Kyiv, unlike Pechersk Lavra and some 6,000 other Orthdox churches in Ukraine, which fall under the Moscow patriarchy. In this I perceive one of the subtle and frequently hidden tensions that exist in this society--namely this, that the dominance of the Ukrainian national spirit has been and in many instances continues to be dominated by Russia. This was true under the Tsars. It was definitely true under the Soviet regime, and it continues today in many things commercial, linguistic and religious. What I witnessed the other day in the Refectory at Pechersk Lavra was an Orthodox mass under the ultimate liturgy and direction of the Patriarch at Moscow. What I saw today was a mass under the priesthood claiming authority and direction under the Ukrainian Patriarch. It may seem a subtle difference to many, but I have come to believe that it is far from insignificant.

St. Michael's has a unique place in all of this, as it is the primary training ground for young Ukrainian Orthodox Priests. I was struck by the vast numbers of youthful, vigorous, joyful young men who are in this place, all dressed in the black shoe-length cassock of the seminarian. Many still in their teens, most in their early twenties, these young men are the future vigor and hope of the remarkable Ukrainian Orthodox Church. The Mass which I witnessed today was presented in large part by these young men.

The Refectory chapel is a small building immediately adjacent to the great central cathedral in the midst of the walls of the monastery. (I didn't get a good picture of it today, but in the picture below, you can just see it off the right of the square, beyond the ornate blue edifice capped by the famous golden domes. At the end of this post is a picture of the Refectory which I took on Thursday, when it was overcast.) The Refectory is the place where the monks and priests traditionally took their meals, and the services there are as much for them as they are for worshippers joining in from outside. Inside the Refectory one finds himself in a fairly compact chamber, perhaps forty feet wide by sixty feet long, with a high vaulted ceiling lined with niches containing intricately carved icons as well as the richly painted realistic murals which are found throughout the Churches I have seen in Kyiv (both in Russian- and Ukrainian-Orthodox Churches). At the head of the room is a permanent choir platform and low screen on the right, a table or altar of bread and wine on the left, a central altar facing an arched opening, through which can be seen the most sacred priestly precincts. In the main room are also four golden colored round platforms, each with many dozens of small candle holders. In these the long golden tapers brought by the worshippers are burning brightly. The worshippers will each bring or purchase on site one or more candles which they light immediately upon entering. The devout may also, I noted today, prepare small lists of names which the priests will read, or more properly "sing" during the services. The lists are of two kinds--lists with a red printing are for living persons, while lists with a blueish-purple color are for the dead. These lists, I understand, are maintained in the priestly prayers for a period of forty days.

Today there was a beautiful choir composed of about twelve young priests, dressed in black, who stood with their chorister in the choir. Again, as with the Russian Orthodox Mass I observed on Thursday at Pechersk Lavra, there is a glorious counterpoint between the recitative-like singing of the solitary priest, and then the multi-voiced, harmonized chorus by the choir. Also, throughout the service, the deep baritone of the priest behind the screen can be heard. He is not in black, but is dressed in a long white robe, running all the way from his shoulders to the floor, fringed at the hem and the cuffs in gold. He wears over this long white robe a curious gold colored front piece, which has a hole for his head and flows down his front and back to about his knees. This is tied with a textile belt of gold color, and he has a flowing robe or cape over his shoulders and running to the floor. His head is uncovered during the service. I was most intrigued that at key points in the service, this priest in the white robe covered with the golden cape, would enter into the room of the devout worshippers, swinging a golden senser, with filled with burning incense, and to this censer were attached what appeared to me to be what we would call sleigh bells. It was a curious thing to hear these beautiful small bells ringing, as the priest came into the room, a thrilling thing, really, when juxtaposed against the glorious harmonic singing of the priests. I am attempting now to describe the indescribable. Sacramental bread and wine was adminstered to both priests and the public worshippers. I also noted that during the singing of the mass, several men and women approached an altar on the side, where they kissed a book and a cross, and then with head bowed had a priest place a gold and white colored cloth over their heads and incline their heads together through this covering. I was later told that this was a confession, made through the cloth.

One of the hallmarks of what I witnessed was the amazing demeanor of the priests. It was not forbidding, it was not distant. It was joyful, it was radiant, it was connected to the people. This, above all, when a priest probably in his teens, during the service, placed a movable lecturn in the archway leading to the priestly precincts, and a young priest in his twenties (dressed in white and gold) stood at the lectern and delivered an extemporaneous sermon in Ukrainian. His subject was the account of Jesus passing through the throng of people, when a woman in need of healing surrepticiously touched the hem of his garment. Jesus turned to his disciples and said, "Who touched me, for I have felt virtue pass from me." This was beautifully and plainly told, and the priest's own interpretation given to the story. This was very impressive to me. Later, the chief priest (the one who swung the golden censor) remained in the room with the worshippers after all was over, visiting with animated conversation, and penetrating and joyful glances, to a young couple, to an old woman, then as I stood near the back door, passed by me with a mother and young son into a private office, all the while exuding a joy in his service that belied many preconceptions I might have had about the distance and the barriers placed between the priests and the people in other ancient religious traditions.

All in all, this was the most interesting experience I have yet had in this fascinating, complex and beautiful land.

The Taras Shevchenko Museum

Olga told me on Thursday that she thought I was beginning "to understand the true Ukrainian Spirit" and urged me to pay a visit to the Taras Shevchenko Museum. This I did after a long day of sightseeing in the oldest parts of Kyiv.

My experience was unique and enriching. First, my story of visiting the museum itself. This is housed in a beautiful, ornate and grand residence of the nineteenth century, with eighteen foot high ceilings and spacious rooms. I entered the building, which was as quiet as a church. I was apparently the only visitor in the building at the time. I first spoke to a security guard and two receptionists in the grand marble foyer. They directed me downstairs to buy a ticket. In a warren of rooms in the basement, I found a little woman in her seventies at a ticket desk. She told me the price was five grivnia. I produced a fifty grivnia note. She frowned and then laughed and shook her head. I deduced from this action that at that point in the day (4:00 p.m.) they had not yet had ten visitors to the museum). I dug for coins in my pocket and was finally able to produce the five grivnia admission price. She handed me a pair of hospital-green foot covers, telling me (all in Ukrainian/Russian, of course, as was my interaction with all of the Museum staff) to put them over my shoes. She then directed me further into the warren to check my coat. There was another functionary in the very ornate coat-check room. Mine was the only coat hanging on the many, many coat racks in this large room. She gave me an ornate numbered token--68 I believe, although I don't know why I needed a token for my coat since I was the only one in the museum--and sent me back upstairs.

Upstairs I was greeted by two other women, who asked for my "билет"--my ticket. I produced my numbered token--68--and smiled. Oh no, the woman said. I needed a ticket. The other woman frowned, pointed to my feet and stage-whispered to her companion, "But he has the coverings on his feet." I explained that I was given no ticket by my little septuagenarian friend downstairs, only the token by the coat woman. One of the women then said she would check, so she went downstairs and returned with my "ticket," which was a small crumpled up cash receipt. I was then in business.

Since the women spoke no English, I was given an English script detailing the contents of sixteen grand rooms containing artwork, manuscripts and memorabilia from the life of Taras Shevchenko, the greatest Ukrainian writer.

I had a marvelous time proceeding through this museum. As I entered each room--with high ornate ceilings, chandeliers, long windows with heavy curtains, thick Victorian era carpets, parquet wood floors, intricate wood carvings, etc.--I found a separate woman docent sitting in the room. They would snap on the light for me as I entered, and turn it off as I left--sometimes with great alacrity. It was dark outside by now, and so the docent with no museum visitors in her assigned room was required to sit in the dark waiting for a visitor. Sixteen rooms. Sixteen docents. And me. In two of the rooms I found the new docent alseep, whereupon the previous docent would run into the darkened room ahead of me and find the light. This light followed me around the museum as if I was the prophet Samuel carrying a lighted torch, filling each room with light and then leaving darkness in my wake.

Now to Taras Shevchenko. He was an artist and a writer of the early to mid nineteenth century. In trouble with the Russian authorities because of his Ukrainian nationalism, he was tried in St. Petersburg, then sent in the military for an exploration of the Aral Sea. There he honed both his writing and his drawing. His drawings are very appealing to me, reminiscent of the charcoal and pencil drawings of the German Carl Spitzweg which I have collected.

The other day I bought a copy of his life-work "Kobzar" and found a beautiful poem about "моя Україна"--"My Ukraine".

• Світе тихий, краю милий,
• Моя Україно

(See page 220 in my edition of Kobzar) I copied down the first lines and showed them later to Olga, who helped me translate a couple of unknown words. Well, in the museum this afternoon I found the original manuscript for this very poem. It showed that the first word, had originally been "краю" тихий, which the poet had crossed out and changed to "Світе" тихий.

I am very glad that Olga suggested I visit the Museum. It has been one of the highlights of my trip.

Where Will the Children Play?

I fear a little for Kyiv. From my first day here I noted how few children are seen on the streets and in public. Olga once commented to me that Kyiv was no place for children. I have previously commented on how this is a city for the few with cars, not for the many on foot. Though I have traveled on the Metro many times each day, and probably seen ten thousand fellow commuters or more, I have seen only three children--two toddlers, and one infant asleep in a baby carrier. This appears to be the city of the University student, of the worker, of the professional, of the party-goer, of the entrepreneur, of the fashion model, but not of the child. I imagine that outside the City center there are many children living happy lives in happy homes and growing into beautiful young people. Among the most touching things I have seen in my few days in Kyiv are the parks with playgrounds, where each evening a very few parents can be seen playing with their children in the snow, running and laughing, or throwing snowballs playfully. I fear a little for Kyiv. There ought to be children on streets that are safe. This all brings to mind the words of a song I very much liked in high school:

I know we've come a long way,

We're changing from day to day,

But tell me, where will the children play?

Closing Argument Presentations at the National Aviation University

Ironically, our smallest group of law students at this point in the semester comes from the National Aviation University, with a student population of 35,000. We found upon arrival that the most fluent English speaking students from our class had been invited by the faculty to attend a special program at the U.S. Embassy.

Nevertheless, we proceeded to practice the closing argument with the smaller group in attendance tonight. In order to help them to be better prepared, Olga and I counseled with and helped them with lingering questions and concerns, and then we allowed both the students presenting for the prosecution and the defense to meet together to give mutual support in their final preparations.

The end result exceeded my expectations. We had very good performances from several students, including especially Katya, who is very fluent in English, having been an exchange student in Texas for nine months. Overall I was pleased with the effort, and hope to see the other stronger students return next week to work on opening statements.

Olga Prepares to Battle the Thought Police

Yesterday, Olga was very indignant when she heard that the Metro officer had ordered me not to take photographs of the statues of the artists, writers, musicians and scientists featured in the Universityet Metro Station. When she met me this morning in the station she immediately suggested that I finish taking pictures of all of the statues. I said that it was okay, and I didn't mind, but she insisted, and then said, "If you are challenged again by the officer, I will ask him by what right he would deny you the privilege of taking photographs!" So I proceeded to take the remaining pictures, albeit with a wary glance over my shoulder should my Antagonist confront me again today. But my Protector, Olga, appeared ready to go to battle for me, and despite her diminuitive stature, she is a real fighter.

I finished my pictures, just as the Antagonist appeared in the archway. I was able to quickly take his picture to complete my set before he spotted me. The series is suitable for framing.

"Keep Your Hands and Arms Inside the Vehicle At All Times"

It is difficult to describe the speed with which the Metro cars arrive in their various stations, and the speed with which they depart. Yesterday I barely got on the car when the tail of my overcoat was caught in the door. Two days ago I saw an old woman fall in the doorway and she was only rescued by three men just before the doors closed. Olga tells me that the Metro can be a dangerous place for children, and that is very nerve-wracking escorting a child by the hand into this underground world. This video was taken this morning at the Universityet Metro Station. Note that this is not rush hour, and so the number of riders is unusually small. It is said that over one and a half million people ride Kyiv's Metro system each day.

(Incidentally, the English speaking voice you hear faintly in the background is the Protector, Olga, urging me to take more pictures of the statues in the Metro station so that the Antagonist will emerge from his lair to challenge me again.)

Teaching at "KROK"

Today was my first experience teaching at the 15,000 student Ukrainian Economics and Law University (Університет Економіка та Права), also popularly known as "KROK," or "Step." I met with a small class in the mock trial room of the law school. Because we teach only a single two and a half hour session each week at KROK, the students did not have the benefit of two days preparation time which the other closing argument presenters enjoyed. I spent the first hour of my lecture going over the case file with the students and discussing presentation strategies with them. During the second hour about six of the students were brave enough to attempt a largely extemporaneous argument. Interestingly, at KROK, as with the other two law schools I worked at today, only a single student (in each case a woman) was brave enough to present for the prosecution. All of the others elected to argue the defense case. I suppose this was out of a mistaken belief that the defense case was easier. This, of course, is not the case, as the case file is so carefully crafted with balanced arguments for either side, that it doesn't really make any tactical difference to choose one side over the other. At KROK I was most impressed with the presentations of Ludmilla (seated on the front row at the right), who presented for the prosecution, and with Tanya (second from the left) who presented for the defense. Olga also tells me that there are other very promising students at KROK who were not in attendance today.

A Marathon Day

Today I taught at three different law schools for a total in-class time of five hours and twenty minutes. I first taught the second segment at the Academy of Advocates (Академії адвокатури України). We then traveled immediately to the Ukrainian Economics and Law University (Університет Економіка та Права), where I taught both segments one and two of my portion of the curriculum. This University is also popularly known as "КРОК,"which is the Ukrainian word for "Step." Finally, in the late afternoon I presented the second segment to the students at the Vadym Hetman Kyiv National Economic University of Kyiv (Київський нацiональний економiчний унiверситетм Київ). More about each of these three sessions in separate entries will follow. Following the final class, I had dinner with Olga, and then returned home on foot at about eight o'clock p.m. I was very weary after a long and productive day.

Passing By Grid Lock on a Snowy Evening

I had quite an adventure getting home from the National Aviation University this evening. This was due to a massive traffic jam that appeared to affect the entire city, from the center of the city outward for several miles, as far as the Polytechnichni Metro stop. We first became aware of problems when our bus stopped for several minutes near the large campus that gives its name to the Metro station. Finally, after several more minutes, Olga and I and a few other daring souls got off of our stranded and idling bus and walked through the snow to the wide pathways running through a stand of trees at the edge of the campus. We trotted along with a throng of other pedestrians under the snow covered trees, feeling a little like participants in Robert Frost's poem, "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening," trudging through the snow "between the woods and frozen lake" while repeating over and over the lines, "and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep." There were also many cars who followed us up over the curb and shared the sidewalk with the pedestrians. After several hundred meters, we finally attained the Metro station, whose warm depths felt very comforting to the frustrated traveler. When I got home a few minutes later to the Lva Tolstovo Plaza, I heard a cacophony of vehicle horns out of my window, and looked out to the site pictured above. The gridlock continued for about two hours, until a solitary police officer showed up with white gloves and whistle and little by little cleared out the traffic.

Eating in "the Lunchroom of the Cosmonauts"

Following my lecture at Kiev International University, Olga and I walked some distance from campus through the snow and caught a private bus to take us to the campus of the National Aviation University, which is very far from any Metro Station, and is thus the most difficult to get to of any of the five schools. The small bus was extremely crowded, with single seats down each side, packed with people, and at least twenty others standing in the narrow aisle, like pop cans in a vending machine. Since Olga and I entered the bus at the back door and there was no chance of working our way up to pay the driver, we sent the fare (one and a half hryvnia) up to the driver with the other passengers, who conveyed it hand over hand all the way to the front. I soon saw that this was de rigueur, and as other passengers entered and sent their money up, I saw that the driver would even send coins or bills back as change. Later in the evening, as we returned part way home on a similar bus, I marveled at the multi-tasking skill of the man, negotiating horrendous traffic, while also making exact change.

At the National Aviation University, we went to a large lunchroom where we ate and visited for an hour or so, while waiting for our next class. The National Aviation University is a very large school, with a student body of about 35,000. Under the former Soviet Union it was one of the chief training schools for pilots, members of the air force and for the Soviet space program. Thus, my very tasty lunch (Chicken Kiev, bread, with both mashed potatoes and rice) was partaken in the lunchroom of the cosmonauts. Seated around us were many University students wearing uniforms with wings. Olga explained to me that when the Soviet Union fell there was a great dearth of attorneys and law schools. It was in the early days of independence that a law school was formed here, as well as in many other major Ukrainian Universities. Thus, the need for lawyers and the schools to train them is a necessity (or, as ill-informed critics would say, a curse) of a free and democratic society. Notwithstanding all of the jokes and horror stories, without lawyers to stand up for the little man, there could be no true access to the courts and the constitutional protections they afford.

Over lunch, Olga and I also continued a most interesting discussion about the history of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, its relationship to the Russian Orthodox Church, and the history of political manipulation and suppression of the various churches by the Soviet authorities. Olga has agreed to accompany me to a Ukrainian Orthodox mass in St. Michael's on Sunday morning, which I am looking forward to with great anticipation and joy. Olga also agreed to accompany me to the ballet on Friday evening (provided we can obtain tickets), and she gave me a gift today of a beautiful presentation book on Kyiv. She is a most excellent guide, confidant and "handler of American Judges."

Teaching at Київський міжнародний університет

Today I lectured in the early afternoon at Київський міжнародний університет (Kyiv International University). I met Olga a little after noon on the platform at the Universityet Metro station, and we continued on to the Schulyavska Station. From there it was a short walk to the campus on Lvivska Street. It was snowing moderately during our trip, and the sidewalks were still unplowed from the weekend snowstorm, and the walking was a little labored at some points. I pressed a young man into service at the entrance to the main building to take this picture of me and my "handler," Olga Kupriyevych.


This was a day when Olga's expert guidance was especially appreciated, as we had to traverse a bewildering course to get to two far-flung campuses.


We had a brief power outage after we had arrived at the University and as I was starting to set up for my lecture. For a moment I thought we would have to move to some windows at the back of the classroom to proceed, but the outage was soon over and we were underway.



The students in this class are very sharp, and their English is excellent. I thought that there were a few members of this class who showed outstanding promise, particularly a young man named Oleg, who is standing second to my right wearing a light blue pullover sweater. Afterward a few members of the class stayed behind to ask some very insightful questions, showing an excellent comprehension of both the jury system and the tensions related to its implementation into the Ukrainian legal system.

There was much good humor in this group, and teaching them was very enjoyable. For example, I made a comment about the fact that most of the young Ukrainian women I had seen were wearing high heels in the snow. This brought a laugh, and one of the young women, Helena, showed us her very narrow steel high heeled boots (she is second from my left in the photograph, wearing black with a knotted pearl necklace, and if you click on the picture you can see her very interesting heels). As a reward, I gave her the narrowest American pen that I had in my gift bag. I understand that the teenage daughter of one of the previous judges was so impressed by the variety of leather boots with high heels worn by Ukrainian women, that she said she was going to the bootshop around the corner and buy herself a pair.


This group seemed to me to be the most open and outgoing of all of the groups I have taught thus far, which bodes well for their comfort "on stage" as advocates in the courtroom. After their presentations on Thursday we will see if this early assessment holds up.