Going home via volcano April 16, 2010

We're sitting on the airport tarmac in Borispol after a nightmarish day of waiting and tension. My flight this morning was to leave at 6:20 am, so Lyuda and I got up at 3:20 in order to take a taxi at 3:40 to get to the airport by 4:20 check-in. Last night, though, we watched British news and heard of a volcano eruption in Iceland which was delaying all air traffic in western Europe and shutting down Heathrow. Lyuda assured me in various ways that this would not impact my travels, and when I asked if we should call the airport, she stated simply, "I do not have the number." and that was that. So, we rose, arrived at Borispol in the early morning quiet, left the taxi waiting at the curb so that Lyuda could then go from there to the downtown bus station. As we walked in, we immediately saw the board where all flights were canceled or delayed, mine until 4 pm. Lyuda was extremely upset, torn between leaving me and catching her taxi, knowing I had no Hryvnas left (though I had dollars) and there was a good chance I'd be stranded there with a canceled flight and no back-up plan. We wandered over to the food court area and settled me and my luggage next to some folks speaking English. Once she realized I had some people who might be able to help, I was able to persuade her to take the taxi. I sat down near this group: a British postal worker who had booked a flight through Ukrainian airlines (the two Ukrainians there were somewhat horrified that he'd deliberately pick this airline over western European ones, saying that no one did that unless all other options were closed), a Canadian--Clarence, a high school teacher of religious studies, and a young Ukrainian woman, Natalia,traveling to Miami for her first job in America who was speaking with another Ukrainian man who had just flown in from Denver and was killing time there before his bus later in the afternoon. We waited together for several hours--I,until 9 when I tried calling the Kiev contact number for IREX only to realize that this was a FAX number, and then called the US number, leaving a message in the middle of the night. Eventually, I called home, left a message, and soon Angus called me back. As KLM was the airline for Natalia, Clarence,and me, Natalia stood in the growing line, holding our places while we watched all the luggage. Finally, they opened the window at 11 am. Rumors were flying, more and more airports were closing every few minutes: Frankfurt, Paris, Amsterdam, yet our departure on the screen stubbornly still displayed "4 pm, Delay" not canceled. For Natalia, the agent at the window said in so many Ukrainian words, "We can't help you", and turned her away. When I stepped up, filled with dread after having watched several other people get summarily dismissed or rebooked on flights several days later, I handed over my itinerary. She punched a few buttons and then told me "your agency has changed your flight to the 20th." I told her this was impossible and that I hadn't heard from anyone and that I was not allowed to stay longer. She briefly checked again and responded that she had me on a flight for later this afternoon. This all took place over about 3 minutes. Given that most around me had been told 48 hours to 4 days delay, I was astonished! Clarence eventually got on the same flight, sticking together through the Byzantine security and boarding procedures (3 separate times). Meanwhile, Bill the Brit I left waiting for Heathrow to open-- he was assured it would by 6 pm). He had been visiting his internet Ukrainian girlfriend for the first time; I hope this was worth it! Young Natalia, I hugged and tried to reassure her that she wouldn't lose the job awaiting her. I think it was on some kind of cruise ship and she was worried it would be gone by the time she was able to make it to the states. I felt terrible for her; I don't know what she was going to do. Another woman I had been waiting in line with was a Canadian trying to return with her husband, young son, and the newly adopted Ukrainian toddler. When she discovered I had a flight to New York today, she wanted on the same flight, but she had no visa for the toddler to go through the US so she had to wait for a flight straight to Canada. She had been in Uk, for 7 weeks already, 3 more than they'd initially planned for the adoption process.
Finally, Clarence and I made it into the boarding area, and by 1:15 we were through customs and security, just waiting to board our 1:35 flight. However, we didn't board until 2:15 and only departed at 3:45. By that time I realized that I would miss my connection in New York for Seattle. (I was originally to go Amsterdam, Seattle, Pullman, but now it was to be New York, Seattle, Pullman). The couple next to me seem to be on the same flight to Seattle (though they don't speak English and I had to pull out my phrasebook and do some pointing and hand gestures). They'll be sticking close to me when we deplane. I think we'll get to NY some time around 8 pm, and we'll have to figure out new flights then! I realize, of course, that I am indeed on the dreaded Ukrainian airlines we had all been joking about earlier.

11th day April 15, 2010

This morning we ate the breakfast food we'd bought at the supermarket where we'd stopped last night. This store was more similar to what we have at home, though many bins of food sat open, unlike all of our "sneeze guard" protected bulk foods. We took a couple of pictures while in there until the security guard came by, frowned and told us to put the cameras away. Vika made sure to recommend the best Ukrainian vodka. After breakfast we took a taxi to Vika's office (when the driver saw my ostrich feathers, he called us "Queens", and treated us so!) After a visit to Vika's journalist office, we collected our luggage Oleg brought for us when he drove in to the city for his University class. Luckily, we were across the street from the bus station and we had some help from Vika's office friend.
From there we took a 5 hour bus ride to Kiev, watching a Russian television series that reminded me of the movie Arthur; the dissolute rich boy falls for a peasant girl, but she straightens him out. Finally, we took one last taxi ride from the bus to the heart of the city. What a stunning view in the afternoon sun, with the gleaming church domes.
Once at the hotel (not the friendliest staff and less than stellar accommodations), we went down to the coffee shop for a bite before exploring the downtown. With no rain in site, we walked and walked around the main streets: Lenin's monument, Shevchenko in the park, lovely churches and plenty of wonderful shopping. The afternoon light was extraordinary, and the golden church domes were glorious. We even indulged in having our pictures taken in 19th century outfits next to an old fashioned carriage in the central plaza. What silly fun! Then more walking down to the side of the hill overlooking the main river and then swung back toward the hotel as the sun set.

First day April 5, 2010

I've been in Ukraine for 24 hours now. Yesterday I arrived at 5 pm in the Kiev airport (pop.2 million), much smaller than I had anticipated--only somewhat harder than Lewiston's (an airport serving an area of about 60,000 people). I went through customs with no questions; no one even looked in my bags. Lyudmila and her son Sasha were there waiting for me with big hugs. We waited for a "real taxi", one called, instead of one on the street front. We took the taxi to the bus station, had a bite to eat there, then got on the bus for a 5 1/2 hour ride to Kirovograd, talking all the way about school, the country, her children (Sasha is a dance teacher in Moscow, Russia, who is visiting until Saturday). After a long ride, L's husband met us at 1 AM in the bus station at Kirovograd and then we drove to Novoukrainka. The roads are in terrible shape, with huge potholes, and unlit. It made me glad I was sitting in the back so I couldn't see the road. About 45 minutes later, we arrived at the hotel, then spent some time debating how hot the water was and how cold the room was. I have 2 large rooms, bed and sitting room, and a private bath; I eventually showered in the sauna downstairs, because the water in the room wouldn't get hot but I took the wrong bag downstairs, so without shampoo, I had to wash my hair with soap--it looked terrible this morning!