A TRIP TO ISTANBUL
March 16-23, 2002
This section describes the events leading up to my departure
from Kyiv to Istanbul. I decided to include a vignette for this because
these experiences give an idea of life and crazy things that can happen in Ukraine. You can also read my travelogue
of Istanbul.
The Travel Agent
I think the trip really starts with my purchase of the
tickets. I went to Victoria, my
English-speaking travel agent whom I met through Business Club in Kharkiv about
a month before my trip. I said I wanted
to travel to Istanbul on Sunday the
17th of March and return on Friday the 22nd. (I teach classes on Saturdays, otherwise I
would have chosen to spend more time there).
She told me (as I already knew) that Turkish Airlines doesn’t fly from
Kyiv to Istanbul on Sundays or
Fridays, but AeroSvit, a Ukrainian airline, does. Turkish Airlines flies this route on
Saturdays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.
Victoria called her
contact at AeroSvit and made a reservation.
She did not take my passport number or credit card information. Then she offered me some tea and started
asking me about my favorite songs, or something like that. As we were sitting there chatting I became
apoplectic. When would I actually pay
for the ticket? I then told her that
maybe we were having a cross-cultural difference, that I didn’t feel
comfortable talking with her as a friend until we had finished our business.
She said it was normal, she does this with her friends all the time. Finally I realized that she didn’t realize I
wanted to pay that day. She called
AeroSvit again, and said that it costs a lot of money to change the ticket once
I book it. She said it would be better
to wait until the 13th of 14th of March. The ticket was being held only in my
name. Again, I was nervous about losing
the reservation. Victoria
assured me it was normal, but I asked for a reservation number anyway. It was totally the opposite of my experiences
in America,
where you can only hold a reservation for 24 hours, and you need a credit card
number to guarantee the price.
I went back to Victoria
on the 14th of March. I gave
her my credit card, and she said my ticket would be ready in an hour. I went to a nearby McDonald’s because I was
hungry and, more importantly, I had to go to the bathroom. I also needed some extra gryvnias to buy a
train ticket. I wanted to save my cash
so I tried to find an ATM. There were
two banks in the area, but neither of them had an ATM. So I went to the usual obmen valyut (currency
exchange) booth near Historichny Musey.
The exchange rate is one of the best in the area (5.38 to the dollar
that day, as of April it went up to 5.42), but the largest denomination they
usually have is a 5-gryvnia note. Since
I was changing $50 I walked away with a large wad of 5-gryvnia bills. Ugh.
I went back to Victoria’s
office exactly one hour later. She asked
me for my passport number (which I hadn’t given her before), made a phone call,
and said it would be about 15 minutes.
Would I like a cup of green tea in the meantime? I suddenly began to miss American travel
agencies, where you can buy a ticket and print it out in the same place
instantly. On top of that, Victoria
did not strain the tea so I kept getting leaves in my mouth as I drank. When Victoria’s
assistant came in with the ticket and credit card slip, I signed it and quickly
got out so I could go to the train station to buy my ticket.
The Train Station in
Kharkiv
Coming to the train station Saturday night to take the
train, I have to say that when I got off the Metro there were two escalators
running, but one of the escalators had a bar in front so you couldn’t use
it. (That one was opened by the time I
got to the top). Walking through the
underpass to the train platforms, there were two walkways. I crossed from one
to the other because it had less traffic, only to run into a mound of dirt and
have to cross back to the original side.
I could only laugh at both of these events as symbolic of life in Ukraine.
Kyiv
When I got off the train in Kyiv Sunday morning, I went to
McDonalds (again, I had to go to the bathroom and I was a little bit
hungry). I opened the door and sitting
at the first table was Bill, a Peace Corps Volunteer from Kharkiv. He was there with Emily, a new volunteer from
Long Island. They
were on their way to a training conference.
We chatted while they ate breakfast.
The bathrooms were closed there, so Bill led us to the Peace Corps
office, a five minute walk away. I saw
computers that were hooked up to the Internet.
Zerox machines. Newsweek magazine. Sit down toilets. It was a little piece of heaven on
Earth. The funniest part was going into
the computer room and seeing a Peace Corps fellow whom I had talked to in
January on the train from Chernihiv to Kharkiv (he is not based in Kharkiv, but
in a small town near Chernihiv).
As I was getting ready to leave, Bill gave me directions to
the airport bus that would take me to Boryspil airport. I walked up there (past Prospect Peremohy)
and saw two marshrutkas (minvans used as buses). The price was 10 grivnias. That seemed right. I said I wanted to go at 12:00 (my flight was at 2:15);
the man said 11:00 would be
better. I took another marshrutka to
Khreschatyk (price: one gryvnia), and wandered
around a bit. The street seemed to be
deserted. From what I have read in Kyiv
Post, the city has a very active nightlife so I imagined not many people get up
early on Sunday and go out. I grabbed a
bite at the McDonalds on Khreshatyk, and came back to the airport marshrutka. I sat there for 15 minutes while the driver
waited for more passengers. Three men
came up and talked with the driver but did not get on. I was getting really
impatient, and I was also starting to feel like I had made a mistake. I could have taken a nice bus from the train
station for 20 griven at the exact same time.
This marshrutka looked really run down. I was really surprised this kind
of bus would be listed on a tourist map.
Then I saw the real airport bus pull into the driveway nearby. That’s when I ordered the driver to open the
back so I could get my luggage and get out. I hope this experience serves as a
warning.
Boryspil was nice and developed compared to Kharkiv, but
still small compared to an American or Western European airport. It did have sit-down toilets so that was a
plus. I ended up talking to a woman who
was flying to Paris (for the fourth
time) to visit her daughter. For the first time I felt I could understand what
she was saying and respond in Russian without the use of a dictionary.
As we were sitting the woman, Olga, noticed smoke coming out
of a trash can. She got up to tell
somebody. A man came back with a 1-liter
bottle of Ordana water (a high quality Ukrainian brand of bottled water) and
poured it into the trash can, then kicked the can across the room. Olga said thank you and he said “It was
nothing.” I said “of course it was
nothing”. It worked, but it was his
attitude that seemed, well, Ukrainian somehow.
When it was time to board the plane, everybody got up at
once—no calling rows like in America. We went through the gate doors, down the
jetway as in America
or Europe—and down the stairs to get on a bus that would
drive us maybe 200 or 400 meters/yards to the airplane. I’ve decided that this is an effort at job
creation.
I flew on AeroSvit, a Ukrainian airline, which actually was
not as frightening as I thought it would be.
It was a 737 and the service was reasonable. I got a free copy of Kyiv Post (an English language newspaper), and a pork-free lunch
(Turkish people don’t eat pork because it’s against Muslim law). Drinks are much more liberal—I could have had
wine or vodka or cognac in addition to soda or juice at no extra charge.
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