The Cold War Just Got a Bit Hotter

For those of you who have do not know me too well, and have not witnessed the obsession that happens when trying to pick out a new piece of clothing for my wardrobe let me tell you its not pretty. I think on many occasions my co-workers at the Gap want to kill me when I have asked them for the third time if the jeans I have on look ok, because you know it really changes in five minuets and also do they just look ok-ok, or like amazing ok. I have to go around and ask every single person in the store, just so I know that it really looks good and that someone just weren’t trying to be nice. (or get rid of me.) That is all for just one pice of an outfit in a store that I know like the back of my hand. Now imagine me in a place that is as foreign as say Ukraine for example, oh right that’s where I am, and that I am trying to put a whole outfit together for a certain Greek’s birthday party. Panic is what ensues. Now to be fare I really don’t think that any of my friends here are going to call me out on wearing something that they has seen me in before, but I really do enjoy dressing up, alas in Maine I never really have an excuse to get this dolled up and if I am going to dress up there we all know I am going to be rocking a dress for the L.L. Bean Signature collection, because that’s what people from Maine do. (Seriously though check the stuff out. Its amazing if you like Maine preppy style.)
Luckily last weekend I was looking through the sale racks at Zara and the first dress I saw I fell in love with. I already have leggings to go under it and of course I am going to be rocking it with my red cowboy boots. (For those of you who are not aware those are by far my favorite boots ever and they go with everything.) Now I just needed a jacket or cardigan to go over it.
On Wednesday I decided to check out the second hand shops to find the perfect thing to match. I set off on another balmy day towards the street that has a bunch of second hand shops on it. Ice had formed in patches on the sidewalk, covered by a layer of that gosh darn cold mash potato snow and most of my walk was up hill and took probably twice as long as it would in the summer. I stopped part way up the hill to take photos of a children’s play ground. I am drawn to places like this as my mother runs a day care in our home, so its just engrained in me to take a gander. Its a really good thing that I was born a girl not a creepy looking guy, or people might question my motives for lurking around such places.
The park has different brightly painted animals that are used as the bases for the playground equipment. I am sure that back in the day these looked amazing, there are little pieces of tile that have been painstakingly applied, probably by hand, to each creature. Or real animals were covered in concrete and then forced rolled around in a bunch of chicklets. My bet’s on the last one. These things are pretty life like.
There were a few children playing on the playground, which was refreshing to see as some of my fellow ex-pats and I joke that they keep the kids here locked up and don’t let them outside. Honestly though it has gotten to the point that when I see a child, its like seeing some mythical beast. I think some of the real reason I don’t see that many children is that I am living in the center of a city and young families tend to not live here for a number of reasons, the biggest on probably being the cost of living. The other reason is that less and less people in Ukraine are reproducing. The government here has started giving out incentives to have babies. For your first child you get 20,000 UAH (a little over $2,500) which is a lot considering that the average year salary in Ukraine is under $10,000. Also when you have more children the money they give you goes up, like for the second child it is 30,000 UAH I believe.
I finished up taking pictures in the park and went back to my mission of finding something to go over the dress. I walked into one store thinking that it was a second hand store and looked one of the price tags and it said 400UAH ($50.00) for a sweater. I turned around and walked out and closed the door and then started laughing. Clearly not the place I was going for. I found a shop that looked more promising, and went in and started looking at the dresses. (I tend to wear them at one of my jobs a lot so if I can find some for really cheep I am game.) I came across an old Gap dress from 2004 and it made me smile for some reason. Ok so maybe I do miss my job there a little bit, or a lot, but I won’t admit it to them. Crap I think I just did. The shop was pretty full of people and I didn’t really feel like scouring racks looking for this piece of clothing that was in my mind and would most likely never find.
I went back out and continued to make my way up the hill towards the train station and the big market. I decided to try my luck with taking some photos of people here as I had been slacking on this part for my project. Taking photos of people in general I find super intimidating and over here its even harder. I started out taking a picture of a baba selling something on the street to a lady.
I wondered into the market, trying to stay out of everyone’s way and I realized that my lens had fogged up and I quickly hurried into a corner trying to get it back to normal. I never know how long I have before someone stops me and asks what I am doing so I try to make it in and out of shootings fast. I wondered around the meat counters, which is probably one of my favorite things to look at. In America our meat comes in nice little packages with next to no hint of what it might once have been. We only tend to buy “normal” parts, when’s the last time you saw hearts, or a pigs head shrink wrapped and for sale in the grocery store?

I hate the fish section of the market and try to get through it as fast as possible. All those dead beady little eyes looking at you. Most of the fish here is sold in these frozen hunks, with the scales are still on. I don’t know how you would even began to cook something like that and I don’t really want to think about it. There are still bones in there too, I am sure of it. The isles paths in between the stales are always cramped and I hold my camera bag up so it won’t get any fish guts on it. I would end up in a germ frenzy, freak out and end up rubbing hand sanitizer all over my bag or something messed up like that. I have also been frightened a few times when I am looking at the fish, its like a horrible car crash that you have to look at, and they aren’t frozen and there gils are still moving. I talked with my Australian professor friend here and he assured me that the fish don’t feel a thing, that their brains aren’t big enough. I still think its gross. They also sell fish here a vacuum sealed bag. Again scales, bones and everything. I need to move on before I vomit all over my MacBook. Pretty sure that’s not covered in the care plan and I really don’t want to carry this thing smelling worse then a dead fish back to America to the Guineas Bar at my local Apple where I am sure to get some odd questions, that I may not want to answer. “Um you mean you threw up on your laptop because you were writing about dead fish that people consume?”
I made it through that maze of slime and found myself at a stall that sells cakes and cookies. Most of the time I glance, but keep on walking. That day I stopped when I saw what looked like a chocolate cake type pastry with coconut on it. If you have been reading all my blogs you know how I feel about chocolate, well kids if there is one thing I love more then chocolate it is chocolate with coconut. The guy running the stall was helping another lady with her selections so I waited patiently for him to be done with her. I was trying to size him up, if he was going to be mad at me for being a foreigner, but when it was my turn he surprised me by being extremely nice to me and even smiled, which is rare for anyone in Ukraine that you don’t know. He worked with my limited langue skills and silly gestures that I have become accustom to using. It should be interesting to see if I am still doing them when I get home. On the other hand I am sure that I would be able to take anyone down in a mean game of charades at this point in time.
I walked through the part of the market selling fruits and vegetables, and most of them looked pretty bad off. That is the thing about Ukraine though, you will see stuff for sale in America that looks like its bad to us, but in reality its still good. Its whats under the skin that matters. Get it, under the skin? They also don’t appear to grow anything in the winter months in green houses and they don’t import that much from other place. I hope you like cabbage, apples that look like they’ve been used in batting practice, oranges from Spain, potatoes, and pickled what ever you like.
I left the big market and went outside and saw a smaller open air market that I decided to try out. On my way there I got this excellent picture of an old baba by mistake, I was trying to get something else that I have completely forgotten what it was by now, but she walked in front of me. Also when I was stepping off the curb to cross the street another old baba was trying to make her way down a snow covered ramp. I held my arm out incase she needed to grab on to it if she slipped. She gave me a huge smile and seemed really grateful as most people here only seem to look out for themselves. It was just one small thing that I wouldn’t think twice about doing. We all have grandmothers and I’m pretty sure I’ve never met someone who thinks that theirs is a horrible person, it just doesn’t happen so everyone look out for a grandmotherly looking person in your life this week.

I went into the market and started taking a few pictures trying to be as un-obvious as possible. I saw this great looking old man walking towards me with a tea kettle in his hand and I got so excited. This is the stuff I live for over here. I ended up getting a shot of him and all of a sudden out of no where this guy came up behind me and touched my arm to get my attention and then started shouting at me. I tried to calmly explain to him that I only spoke English and he kept yelling and gesturing to my camera. I could see that it was a lost cause so I walked off in the opposite direction, not looking back. I got to the edge of the market and walked to the other side of the street and I finally looked back and he was standing there watching me with a menacing scowl on his face.
I was in shock, so many emotions were running through me at that point in time. I dwelled on it the whole twenty five minuet walk back home and at first I had to hold back tears, then it turned to anger. Half of me wanted to go back and yell at him, that he was the reason that people thought badly of Ukraine or maybe just tell him to F* off. That’s a pretty universal word. I think I was more disappointed in the fact that three weeks into my time in Lviv and no one had treated me in such a way and this guy had to go and be a complete jerk for no apparent reason. I reached my street and stopped at Big Burger and got my horribly fattening hot dog lunch and went back to watch Glee as I ate and de-stress.
I talked to my hostel owner about the event a little later on in the week and he was shocked by the whole thing, I on the other hand was still really confused. He said the guy may have thought that I was a spy. I was like, Eddie come on. How long ago did the Cold War end, you can’t be serious? He was and told me that with some people the feelings still run deep. I ended up repeating the story to some of the Peace Corps volunteers the next day and they agreed that the guy probably did think I was a spy. Apparently it is more common the further East you go for people to think this way. One girl said that at the school she teaches at one of the students parents are positive that she is one. I was still skeptical of how people could think this of me. I was like, I am a twenty-two year old who speak no Russian or Ukrainian, I am just here doing a photography project for my college back home, and I am living at the Kosmonaut hostel. Her reply, that’s a great cover don’t you think?

All right Obama if I really am spying for you I am going to need a few more things to properly complete my mission.
-I want accesses to a bath tub that has hot water once a week complete with a Lush bath bomb of my choice.
-I’m going to need more fresh fruits and vegetables, so that means a bigger food budget.
-A personal chef/ body guard that can use the cover of being my boyfriend.
-An apartment in the city center would be nice too. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just livable, but also I’ll keep my room at the hostel as a cover.
-One friend of my choosing flown over every three weeks for a week so I don’t miss home too much.
-A new pare of Gap jeans every three weeks and a new top once a week.
-A top of the line digital camera, with a bunch of different lenses, and the biggest memory card possible.
-Diplomatic immunity for any little indiscretions I may get myself into.
-A Starbucks needs to be built here as soon as possible and when I ask for a venti coffee they know what I am talking about and I can get it in a to-go cup.
-A $100 chocolate budget for a month, make that every two weeks to be safe actually.
-A trip to Amsterdam every six weeks to rest up and take time to stop and smell the roses, ahem tulips or some other liberal country.
-Immunity to vodka, so I can't get drunk and talk about American secrets.
-Maybe a cool spy name too.


(Just me in blending in with the locals and that's how I looked for the party. I just used a sweater that I already had.)

I Never Said Being An International Photographer Superstar Was Going To Be Easy: Part Two

Tuesday was a day of great change for me. I ended up getting my hair cut and it’s shorter then its been in years. I feel free in an odd, but amazing way. It is also quite the experience to have your hair cut by someone that speaks no English, but one of the girls at the hostel wrote down ruffly what I wanted, to give to him and and through limited communication it worked out great. I must say though getting your hair cut in a foreign land in not for the faint of heart. It could have gone horribly wrong. (New hair in photo, because I know you all want to see it)

I stopped on the way back to the hostel and get another 6 liter jug of water. When I got to the door one of the guys was working and just like last time I showed up with my water he insisted on carrying it to the kitchen for me. I started to give my feminist speech but quickly stopped and just handed it over. I’ve learned to pick and choose with my tough girl battles and everyone wins if I just let him carry the stupid water. Maybe next time I’ll just bring him with me to the store so I don’t have to carry it the five blocks home. I sat in reception that afternoon and talked to him about America and showed him Craig’s List and explained about the dangers of some of the categories. He is really set on moving to Chicago and being a gym teacher. I guess Chicago also has quite a big Ukrainian immigrant population so it makes since for him to choose that location.
Pizza sounded good for dinner that night, so I braved the cold and went out. I decided to go for pepperoni as I thought it was a safe bet, well I bet wrong. I was sitting there and I saw the girl walking towards me with a pizza covered with peppers. I just thought, shit that’s mine. Sure enough it was. Welcome to Ukraine. I should also probably stop and explain this “Welcome to Ukraine” phrase I keep using here. When anything goes wrong, for the most part instead of getting upset I just say it and laugh it off. They probably thought I was insane when they cleaned up after me and came and saw every single one of those peppers sitting on the tray after I had picked them off. I won’t be going back there incase they remember me. The pizza wasn’t that good either so I don’t mind.
I went back to my hostel and started to pretend to prepare for my Skype meeting with my teacher. I think I really was just finishing Harry Potter, same thing really. My friend Chad ended up calling me to ask if I wanted to go out and get coffee or something to eat, I said yes of course as I had a few hours to kill before my meeting and he’s pretty good company. Chad picked me up at the hostel and we quickly realized that a lot of places were about to close and it was really cold out. We ended up deciding to go get kebabs to take back to the hostel. On the way there Chad noticed that I didn’t have any gloves on.
Funny story about my lack of gloves, I lost one of them when I was out shooting in Lychakiv Cemetery, last friday because my teacher had warned me about my hands getting too cold. This cemetery is a massive, over grown, ill kept in some parts, hilly maze of crowded tomes. The cemetery started in 1787 for the upper class of the city for the most part. It eventually grew to include anyone who wanted to be burred there. For those of you who don’t know Lviv use to be a part of Poland (but for the love of God you probably should not mention that here) so the older tome stones are in none other then Polish and then it switches to Ukrainian, then Russian I believe and then back to Ukrainian. If I got any of that wrong please feel free to correct me.
The shooting Friday was less then ideal. It was snowing, sometimes just ever so lightly, but at one point it started coming down really heavily. I was cold by the time I got there and had already walked for about forty minuets to get there, for some reason I thought it was only a twenty minuet walk. When I got to the gate I went into the little hut and tried to buy my entrance ticket. (Yep, they charge you to see dead people.) I guess it was the wrong door and they pointed me to the next one over. I opened it and there were three doors leading off. I just thought, oh forget it and walked back outside. No one stopped me so I walked quickly to the left side and into the depths of the cemetery before anyone saw. I started shooting and got quickly overwhelmed and lost my focus, trying to capture anything and everything. I walked on the snow covered paths, trying to cover as much ground as I could, so I wouldn’t miss anything. My gloves were in my pockets and I would put them on every so often to warm up my hands and then take them off and put them away again. I had just climbed up a hill to get a picture of some angel grave stone and I reached for them and found that I was down to one. I was having a crappy day to start with so this was just the icing on the cake for me. Fuming I decided that I had, had enough of shooting for the day and retraced my steps trying to find my precious mitten. With no such luck I stomped off to the tram stop and got on the wrong one, that required me to walk through the city center instead of being dropped off one street from my hostel. I uploaded my pictures and went through them all and wrote them all off as crap, that wasn’t really the case but a funk had over taken me and wouldn’t let go so I just went with it.



By Sunday I had come to my senses and over analyzed what had worked and what didn’t and was ready to win over the cemetery this time. I had also noticed a way to get in that did not require me to pay, not that I did the last time. There is a path in the back that the locals seems to use so I just fallowed suit. This time I didn’t try to photograph the whole cemetery in one go and focused in on the smaller things. They also do this really cool thing over here where they put picture of the decided on the grave stones. (Someone take note that I want this on mine, but who are we kidding, I’m never going to die.)
I ended up walking around trying to find ones that looked like people I know, messed up I know but its not like I could find people with the same name as me. Pretty sure there aren’t too many Emilys over here.
In Sunday’s shoot I went through maybe a tenth of the grounds, if I was lucky, but I found it much more enjoyable and reminded me to keep my focus on the small things, not just the big picture. Its all those little oddities that make Lychakiv what it is, even if it could use a serious sprucing up.







So incase you forgot why I started talking about the cemetery it was because Chad noticed that I didn’t have any gloves on. He started to take his off to give to me, but this was one of those times I was going to fight chivalry. He’s from Athens and not use to the cold like me and as much as I really appreciated the gesture and thought it was incredibly sweet, I did not want him to have to deal with the freezing temperature. He then insisted on holding my hands until we got where we were going. Win.

I Never Said Being An International Photographer Superstar Was Going To Be Easy: Part One

Coming over to Europe I knew that my trip would not an easy relaxing all inclusive resort vacation. I knew that I would face trials and tribulations my whole way. I also knew that it would be worth it and as I am nearing the end of my time it Lviv this fact is really coming to light. I also know that I will not fully be able to see the whole worth for some time. It may take years for me to fully see how I have changed but I know it will come, perhaps slowly little drops of realization trickling in, but those drops will develop into a deep pool of understanding.
Ukraine is one of those places in the world, much like Maine, that I feel thats tests you in every way, especially in the winter. This past week the weather has been horribly relentless. It has turned cold, to the point that even walking with my thermals on during the day my legs go numb if I am out too long. We have also had light snow almost everyday. In Maine we wouldn’t really even think about this kind of snow, but streets and more importantly side walks don’t get properly cleared off. The snow has turned into this brown sticky mush that is like walking in cold mash potatoes. I have my nice wide Sorrel snow boots that keep my feet warm and grounded for the most part, however because of this mash potato snow, it gets stuck in the groves of my boots and when I hit the sidewalks made out of black cobble stones that are horrible slippery, I slip every time without fail. I have yet to fall, clearly I didn’t get my dad’s horrible balance. Most of the time I just laugh it off slipping and sliding around sometimes even make small game out of it. What else can you do really, I mean I could go around with a huge blow torch melting the snow in front of me as I walk, but I have a feeling that might be frowned upon here, guess I’ll just wait to get back to Maine to try it.
Despite these less then ideal conditions I somehow still end up walking everywhere. On Monday there was a glimmer of sun in the sky and rushed into a panic to get myself together and go out and shoot. I walked to the bus stop and wait anxiously for the next number 71, looking up at the sky to make sure that the sun had not run away from me again. The bus pulled up and I paid my 2UAH (25 cents for you Americans) and took my place standing in the front holding on to one of the seats so I wouldn’t fall. The bus was decently crowed, but honestly not too bad compared to some of the sardine like conditions that I have been jammed into. I looked out the window patiently waiting to see the park that I was going to shoot in. I ended up getting off at the stop after I should have, but it worked out better because all of the walking for the most part was down hill. The other stop would have been uphill obviously, and since I spent my whole childhood walking uphill, both ways, to school in the freezing rain, I feel the right to be a little lazy now that I am an adult. I walked through the pure white snow covered park, basking in the midday sun, over come with euphoria of a magnitude that has not been seen on a Monday for anyone for quite sometime. It was probably a very good thing that it was mostly deserted as I was grinning ear to ear and possibly laughing to myself a bit, and I am sure they would have dragged me off to some mental institution or thought that I had gotten an early start of my vodka consumption. I hurried to the amusement part of the park that was shut down for the winter and started taking pictures. One of the thoughts that ran through my head was, Are these rides really safe? I see a lot of rust. I need to see these things in action sometime. I also did not sneak into this place, they just leave it open during the winter, so the thrill factor was a little low, but still over all interesting subject matter and enjoyable shooting.


I finished up at the park and walked down the stairs to the street and looked up the hill to where the bus stop was that I had gotten off, (and when I say looked up the hill I don’t mean I could see it from there, just looking in the general direction.) and then looked down the hill to where I knew there was a bus stop, but I didn’t know its exact location. I chose to go down. I was not ready to fight with a snow covered hill, when I need to be out shooting. I walked along for about fifteen minuets and found the stop I was looking for, the one I should have gotten out at in the first place, and waited impatiently for the next 71 bus to take me out further into the country side and eventually where it would end its run at the King Cross mall. My bus finally came and I climbed on to the over crowded thing and held on for dear life with both my arms tightly wrapped around one of the metal poles. I was standing on the top step of the stairs, with my feet half off trying to balance and not fall like an unexpended mashooka rider. Falling would meant that I could put away my big “American” forehead stamp that I slam on my face, so people are aware of my origins. Its not like my general lack of Ukrainian would be a dead give away that I wasn’t one of them in the first place or anything, but I digress.
I road in my sardine can, oh excuse me, bus, for a few more stops and then I got off at an area I had scoped out a few days before. There were some industrial ruins around and just general horribly run down places. I walked towards the first abandoned building and saw that there was a big wall surrounding it and I decided that the lighting wasn’t that great right now and it just wasn’t going to be worth it. I looked across the street and there was a complex that looked like some of it could be uninhabited, but again there was a huge wall and I knew there was no way in hell that I was getting in. I turned and started walking in the direction that my bus had gone off in and decided that I would just walk the rest of the way to the mall and take photos along the way. I started walking and about an half hour had passed, and I thought to myself “It’s not that much longer. I’ll be there soon.” Well as I walked through the suburban country side that half hour turned into an hour and then an hour and a half. I should have just gotten on one of the buses that passed by, but at this point I was obsessed making it to the mall by foot and making sure that I did not possibly miss something that I could take a picture of. I have also developed this odd need to walk a lot every day it seems. Its a really good way to get to know the city I have found and also its a way for me to clear my head. Also I was too cheep to pay 2UAH (25 cents people) for the fare. Oh God Ukraine you have made me horribly cheep, oh what I’m like that back in the States too?


Once at the mall I got my lunch, even though it was passed 4pm at this point and then I went about some shopping. I finally got a proper winter scarf that is also doubling as a shawl, it kind of makes me feel like an old lady, but I’m ok with that because its warm and was only 49UAH (about $6.20, gosh people get your abacuses out so I don’t have to keep doing math). I then went to this huge store which is basically like a super Wal*Mart. I ended up drifting into the DVD section and buying Twilight: Eclipse. I do not know what compelled me to buy this horrible movie that I hated the first time I saw it except for the fact that it was only 52UAH (about $6.60) and it is also dubbed in Ukrainian and Russian which may turn out to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. I also tried to find the Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, but got completely ignored by two workers who clearly saw and heard me try to ask for help. Maybe I should have looked for a flare gun in there hunting section.(Seriously though there was no hunting section so this was not a true Wal*Mart). That might have gotten there attention.
I am now going to admit to you all what I have become addicted to over here. Buying chocolate. I tidied up my room the other day and the amount I found was astounding. Its become this horrible addiction. God forbid I run out of it apparently. See the thing is I am buying more then I am eating and I forget about a stash and then come across it later on. Its all really good too, much better then Hershey’s. I think right now I have at least five unopened bars, at least three opened and a bag of assorted mini chocolate bars. I hope customs doesn’t have a limit on it, if someone could check up on that for me it would be grand. Also someone is probably going to break into my hostel room and rob me of my scrumptious goodies, which I may not be opposed to so I don’t have to lug 5 pounds of the stuff back with me. I ended up buying even more that day at the Ukrainian Wal*Mart. They still appreciate the ability of pick your own mixed bulk candy here. I can’t read any of the labels as none of them are in English, but I look at the pictures and I decide what to get by prices. The most expensive chocolates are about 80UAH per kilo (that breaks down to about $3.65 a pound). Cheep ass me goes for the ones that are about 50UAH per kilo ($2.85ish a pound) In all I spent about $8.25 at the Ukrainian Wal*Mart. What a bargain shopper I am!
After that I went out to find a bus back to the city center. This bus driver seemed to be in a horrible mood. At first I thought that I just had my American stamp on my forehead again, but he drove like a mad man puffing on cigarettes, (yes bus drivers here sometimes smoke while driving. I wonder what would happen if I just lit up in the bus?) honking at traffic, and he even got into an argument with a passenger over God knows what. Seriously if people are worried about my safety here, its one of these bus rides that I would be most likely to die in I feel.
I made it to the city center, and I was still on my Harry Potter mission. Make fun of me if you will, but it brings me so much joy even at the age of 22. I ended finding it and payed 52UAH for it and was really tempted to buy the Justin Bieber CD at the store too, but I stopped myself. I also have Bieber fever. My mental age just keeps getting lower in this blog.
Moving on from those embarrassing facts, I ended up getting home to the hostel a little after 5 and spent most of the night eating chocolate (shocked? Shouldn’t be.) watching Harry Potter and chilling with the Peace Corps kids staying at the hostel. I cannot tell you how good it was to be able to hang out with a group of Americans that know what you are talking about when you make a reference to something in pop culture and a few of them had even been to Maine, so I got to bask in the glory of my state. It also gave me some insight in to more Ukrainian culture. One of the guys talked about how he had managed to get a computer for one of the teachers in the school he’s working at through a grant and the teach just uses Word to type up quizzes that in turn, she also still writes on the board. He has repeatedly offered to show her how to do more, but she doesn’t want anything to do with it. Similar stories were also shared by the other volunteers. Its hard to change things when people don’t want it. I also learned how much free time they end up having and what do they do with it you ask? They watch movies and TV. It is common for them to have multiple external hard drives, one for music, one of TV shows, and one for movies. When they get together for conferences and such they end up swapping, so they have enough entertainment to last them until the next time they all get together. It also made me feel a little better about my recent DVD purchases, even though I am sure if I had hit one of them up they would have had it, well maybe not Twilight because it was all guys here.
They also told me how a lot of people where they work and in there villages think that they are incapable of feeding themselves so they always get all this food, jars of pickles, potatoes and invites to dinner. One guy told me how one of the teachers always packs an extra sandwich for him everyday so he doesn’t go hungry. They all appreciate it, but also find it amusing that these people keep fussing over them.
We got on the subject of holidays and how much Ukrainians love to celebrate the most random of things, like when I leave to come back to the States on March 8th, I am going to be missing Women’s Day. Basically from what I’ve gathered it is a mix of Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and Labour Day back in America. Traditionally men give small gifts to the women in there lives and it started off as a celebration of the working women. I vote that we bring this holiday to America, so whoever shows up at the airport to pick me up make sure you have something for me and we will start this holiday off on the right foot. I also heard about someone’s first Easter in Ukraine. They had just arrived here a week or two earlier and they were living with a Ukrainian family and on Easter morning he got woken up way before dawn and they all piled into the car and drove for over an hour in the country side, appearing to be going to the middle of nowhere. They ended up at a church and had Easter service and then they went off to someones house to eat and drink, vodka of course. This was repeated several times at various homes, until about mid-afternoon when the Peace Corps volunteer was dropped off back at home and the family did not reappear until a few days later. He assumed that they just continued on doing this. He also mentioned the massive Easter baskets that they get that are filled with practical food items that never seem to end. You just keep reaching in and things keep coming out. He called it “a friggen Mary Poppins basket”.
Here a great thing they also do in schools. If 20% or more of the student are absent they close down the school for quarantine. I asked how long this normally lasts and they say however long they feel like. Maybe its just evil me, but don’t you think that the students might get together and all plan on being sick on the same day, so they get vacation? If they haven’t they should.

Abandoned Factory and Lviv Holocaust Memorial

This morning I set off from my hostel on a mission to get some great shots today for my photo project. Today it was in the high 20s so I put on all my cold weather gear. Basically I felt like a super big Maine hick with everything on. One big issue I am facing right now is that my thermals for my bottom half are ridiculously big. I do not know how this has happened, but I am dealing with it the best I can. I also had my lovely plaid flannel shirt on along with my Sorrel boots, and my L.L.Bean coat.
I trudged to the bus stop and and decided that today I would take whatever one seemed like a good bet to me. I ended up on number 45. The plan was to ride it until I saw something that looked like a good subject to shoot. The bus ended up going to same way I go on my way to the grocery store and we went passed some old and abandoned factories. I quickly reasoned with myself that I had wanted to shoot these for a while and that I should just do it now. This bus could end up going passed no where else of interest and I had no idea how long the sun would hold out.
I got out at the next stop and walked back towards the complex and encountered a wall. I started to walk along it, coming across places that I could maybe get in through, but kept walking thinking that there had to be an easier way. I came across drive leading in and walked passed some businesses that were still open in the complex. Some people looked at me, but no one said anything to me. I formed a plan in my head that if someone tried to question why I was there I would say that I thought it was a short cut to McDonald’s. There is in fact one really close by so it would be believable. I can play the stupid fat American card really well. Some people wouldn’t be proud of it, but I feel like it has some advantages here so I have embraced this, and I am also not really a stupid fat American so I enjoy playing one.
The ground had a thin covering of snow, that I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this. It added to my photos in some cases I feel, however people could also fallow my tracks. Clearly the old Soviet notion of the KGB fallowing people had gotten a hold of me today. I could also look for new human tracks too, so it made me feel a little better when I just saw bird and dog prints. One good thing about the people near by is that they clearly kept the kids and bums out of drinking in the buildings, keeping them mostly intact and not full of broken vodka bottles.
I took out my camera and starting shooting and playing my game of trying to figure out what this use to be. The first two or three buildings I only photographed from the outside and one I leaned through a window that had been broken in, and photographed the inside from there.
For those of you who don’t know me that well I am a complete scardy cat. I can barely go in my basement or attic alone at home. I’ve had my moments of panic attacks due to being scared, so shooting in old abandoned buildings is an interesting challenge for me. I have to focus on the task at hand, taking photos, and making sure that they come out right, not forgetting everything I have ever learned about photography, and not get too freaked out at the same time. I like to think with all my senses on high alert that I shoot better, just do what feels natural.
The first doorway that I went into lead into a decent sized room with frosted glass all over the floor and these four concrete rectangular mounds with pipes next to them coming out of the floor.

The room lead no where so I went back outside to the next door that was in the same building that had a long hall way with rooms off from it. The floor still had the black and cream colored checkered tiles on it and a sky light with most, if not all of the glass still intact. I entered the first room in swat team style like you see on TV, which clearly my camera was filling in for my gun. I do odd things when I am a little scared ok? The first thing that struck me about this room was a lone boot that was against the wall and up right. It looked almost new. There were multiple binders and papers and it looked like the room might possibly have been an office at some point.
I went back out into the hall and into the next room and the only thing that stood out really was a poster still on the wall. This room looked like it might have been used as an office too. I entered the hall again and this time I saw a broken sign on the floor that was relatively still intact and this excited me, but I needed to continue on with my swat mission.
Room number three looked like it was used as a work room of some sort. I found jugs, jars, and cans scattered on the floor. There was also a sign on the wall that said something about ventilation and there was remnants of one on the wall. There was also some red stuff on the wall that had dripped down. First thought in my mind was that it was blood. I then convinced myself that it could not be blood, using my skills I’ve learned from CSI, that the splatter patter was wrong and also there was other colors of paint on the wall so there for it was paint. If a forensic expert would like to prove me wrong on this conclusion feel free to do so.

Back out in the hall I continued on ward and ended up passing dark bathrooms that I practically sprinted passed trying not to look in, I failed at being a swat team member right there. I came to a thresh hold of the last and final room that was bigger then all the others. To get into it I had to step on insulation that had fallen from some where. I didn’t care what I had to step over as long as I didn’t have to go passed those bathrooms again. The room was filled with a lot of rubble and on the wall there was one old tile still up. Once inside I realized that there was no door out. It was a dead end. Awesome I thought. I looked and the three big windows that had long lost there glass and decided that I would climb out that way. It was basically like a door, except I have short little legs so I couldn’t just step over, I had to sit on the sill and swing my legs over. I ended up in a strip of overgrown land that was between the building and a brick wall. I carefully walked around, continuing to shoot, looking for my next way in that wasn’t a window. I rounded a corner and heard a sound. I thought that I had been caught and it was just a door blowing in the light wind.

I went into this huge room that had rubble littering the floor. There was part of a gas mask, some rubber tubing, tires, and other little odds and ends. This seems like a good time for me to talk about my ethics as I shoot. I do not believe that anything should ever be taken from a site. Also when I am there I try to not touch anything, like the binders on the floor in the first room I would have loved to have seen what was written inside, but one I can’t read Ukrainian, two I feel like that is disturbing history. Its not my place to go around messing up the past, I’m just there to document it. So I walked carefully around the big room and kept peering through the holes in the wall to the room next to it. I had to leave the inside and go outside again.

I felt like the best room was saved for last. The first thing that caught my eye was the pictures of scantily clad women that still clung to the posts in the room. I went up to investigate further I saw that the pictures looked relatively new. There was no date any where that I could see, but I did find out that some of the pictures came from a Playboy. Can we just take a moment and here and talk about who brings this in? Is it one guy who gets to decide, or do they organize a bring in your favorite porn day? Are there rules on how graphic it can be? I mean this is a place of work, not your man cave.
Anyways moving on, I love all the texture and colors on the wall. There were doors that lead to no where as the floors above the ground level had long gone. Pipes were coming out of the wall. There was an old warped wooden ladder in the corner on its side.


I then decided that it was time to wrap up this shoot and head home and when I came out of the building the there were some containers that looked like they honestly should have been in a toxic waste dump.
I put my camera away so when I went passed the people it wouldn’t give them a reason to hassle me. Again I got some strange looks as I walked out. I headed back to the main road and breathed a sigh of relief that I had, had another successful shoot. I stood there for a little bit and thought about if I wanted to take the bus back or walk. I decided to walk as I hadn’t in reality spent that long shooting and wanted time to digest what I had just seen and experienced.
On my way home I passed the Holocaust Memorial for Lviv. I had seen it many times on my bus rides, but had yet to stop and look at it close up. I had always admired the beauty of the cubist sculpture that has his agonized face towards the sky as if to ask God how this possibly could happened to his people. I went inside the gated place to get a closer look and there was a plaque in English that read “Through this “Road of Death” in 1941-1943 were passing 138,800 Jewish victims martyred by German Nazi-Fascist occupiers in Lvov Ghetto”. Part of the sculpture is a road leading up what appears to be two Jewish grave stones and the road abruptly stopped and there is a pit type trench that has boulders and huge hunks of glass and then out of the pit the giant man stands on a mound of boulders at though he has risen out. My interpretation of the monument is that people walked down this road and ultimately most of them ended up it pits like this. On the side of the road there were also plaques of remembrance to people who died during the Nazi occupation. Over all I found the monument extremely moving, even if there was a bus stop, factory, a busy road, and train tracks all right next to it. Perhaps it is because I have really become attached to Lviv and a lot of the same buildings are still here from the time period. It is really kind of eery to walk by places like the Opera House or City Hall and know that people suffered so much right there and it looked the same as it does now. Also between the last time I was in Lviv and know I read a book called “The Girl in the Green Sweater” and it was about a Jewish family and how they lived in the swears under Lviv for over a year to escape from the Nazis. It is a really amazing story and if you are looking for a good read and faith in human kind you should read this.






I left the monument and continued on to my hostel and thought about what I should do when I got back. I was pretty drained emotionally and physically so I went and got that McDonalds that I was supposedly looking for. When I got back to my hostel I got my laptop out and watch last nights episode of Glee and ate my food. When traveling I have found that it is very important to take care of yourself emotionally. It is important to educate yourself on things, but I find that some travelers don’t always allow themselves the small joys in life and I feel that by doing some American things I don’t miss home as much and over all I am happier. I am now going to eat some chocolate, re-watch Glee, and drink my water so I stay healthy.

Lviv Chocolate Festival

First off I would just like to say that if anything is worded odd or sounds like broken english, its because I’ve been hanging out with a lot of non-native english speakers and sometimes I catch myself talking like them, I released it this morning. I might even still do this when I get home so you may be in luck and get to hear me sound like a foreigner.
So yesterday got off to a kind of crapy start. The weather was balmy and there was this rain and snow mix coming down and I really wanted it to be sunny so I could take good pictures outside but that didn’t happen. I wondered to the opera house to see if the chocolate festival had started yet, but they were just building this huge structure that looked like a big chocolate wrapped in paper. I then went to the market that was close by to see if I could buy pirated dvds so I could have something to watch when I get bored. I know this is illegal and what not, but they are seriously lacking redboxs here and I hate paying $4.99 to rent movies off of iTunes. Anyways I did not see any, but then again I didn’t look too hard. I then found a movie theater and went to see what was showing, but nothing good was showing so I went and got ice-cream. It lifted my spirits a bit, but not really. I started to walk back to my hostel and saw a coffee shop that I had not been into before and thought to myself well back home coffee always makes me hyper and happy so lets try. I went in and asked for a coffee and they started listing off all kinds like espresso, cappuccino, and so on. All I really wanted was a large coffee from 158 in a paper cup with half and half and two fake sugars, but that is way to much to ask for here so I settled for an americano. It was ok, but they only gave me sugar with it and I didn’t feel like asking for milk. God forbid I insult the barrista.
After I payed, I went outside and continued on to my hostel. I turned the corner on to my street and there were no less then a hundred cops walking down it. There were two huge coach buses that they came on and a bunch of police cars. Now for those of you who don’t know I have this vary unreasonable fear of cops. If I am riding in a car with friends and I tend to yell out cop when I see one. I’m working on this, I promise. I still have yet to find out why they were all there, but there is a police academy near me so one would reason that is why they were lurking about.
I went up to the hostel and sat in the common room defeated, with my laptop trying to come up with something to do to pass the time. I started thinking of how I could go to Big Burger and get hotdog for lunch.(see picture. If you have any questions about just what exactly is on it, just ask)
My Greek friend Chad then facebooked me and asked if I wanted to go to the Chocolate Festival and I told him that nothing was going on in the square and he told me that it had moved and to get dressed he was taking me. This seems to happen a lot in Ukraine, things change places and the info never get passed on to the masses.
Chad picked me up right as I was opening to door to go out and wait for him. Can I just say how nice it is to have someone be on time in this country? I’ve almost given up on trying to be on time here, but I know it will just ruin me when I get back to the states and continue to be late, so I normally stand waiting, frustrated that people are late. Its my fault.
We walked over to the Lviv Palace of the Arts where the event was being held. It was 20UAH to get in. (8UAH to every $1 so that makes it $2.50) We each got a little bag of chocolate as we went in and we entered into a room that was filled with booths selling different things related to chocolate. There were also clowns, mimes, and people dressed up like a king and queen, to add the festive feeling in the air. Chad and I looked at every booth before carefully choosing what to get. The first thing we decided on was basically one of those doughnuts at Dunkin Doughnuts that should be filled with jelly, but wasn’t, dipped in melted chocolate. That set me back 10UAH ($1.25 keep up people). There was also some guy with a video camera taping us as we tried to eat these things off skewers. Its quite tricky and needless to say for anyone who knows me I got chocolate all over my face. I looked like I was 5 and its great that it probably has now been shown to the masses on the news or something. Chad was also very intrigued by the chocolate fountain, I keep forgetting that not everyone has catered weddings, so we got apples dipped in there. That was 5UAH ($.75 cents, I think I am just giving you the prices now to rub it in.)
We then decided to go up stairs to see if anything was going on up there. First we came across a bar, but since it was only about 3:30 in the afternoon and most likely it was over priced we skipped it. This is probably a good time to explain Chad a little bit more and what he is doing in Lviv as he is from Athens, Greece. He’s an international student here studying at the University. He also works for this organization called Wiz-Art that screens short films (no longer then 30 minuets) and they show them here and have film festivals and such. There offices also happen to be in Lviv Palace of the Arts, where the festival is being held.
We walked threw this big room to go see the offices and we happened upon models practicing for a runway show. Chad and I stood and watch them practice and I rambled on about America’s Next Top Model and how they needed to be fiercer. Chad suggested that I take my camera out and start taking photos. I was a little unsure of doing so because we technically were not suppose to be there and I am still shy about taking pictures of people I don’t know. I of course got my camera out and started shooting and Chad gave me suggestions and tips, while he held my coat and watched the models. (I am now going to stop and point something out to the American guys reading my blog. In Europe guys do things like hold your coat and open doors and let you go threw first without you asking. It seems like they almost go out of your way to be nice to women. Almost every date I’ve witnessed over here has involved the girl having flowers, normally it just like one or two roses, but thats all you really need. So the next time you complain about not having a girlfriend or even getting laid you might want try one, a combination, or all of those.)
The runway show consisted of nine models who were dressed to look like big chocolates, not like a huge Hershey’s bar, but nice truffles or bon bons. There were three stations on the runway. The first was where the model got warm white and milk chocolate drizzled all over her. The second one was where she got things like nuts, dried fruit pieces, and coco powered sprinkled on her. The third station was where she got a chocolate hat. At the end the girls climbed into a a big box and it opened up and they were suppose to look like little chocolates just sitting there.
Chad and I sat there until the show which was suppose to start at 6, so we were there for probably two hours before hand. To fill the time I took pictures of the girls and Chad took almonds for us to eat off the table. We also constructed outrageous stories of why we were there incase someone asked. I was sent to Lviv by Portland Magazine to do a story on a romantic getaway. (Clearly the whole chocolate and Valentines day theme got to me.) Chad was also my interpreter, which I released this morning was a really stupid. Why would they give me a student from Greece who’s first langue isn’t Ukrainian? Chad was one of the model’s boyfriends, fool proof plan right there with only nine models. We kept eyeing the melted chocolate so Chad went and got a coffee cup from his office and filled it up and we started drinking it.
I never thought I would have the issue of not being able to consume as much chocolate as I want. It was almost like a bad episode of “Man Vs. Food”. Chad’s friend and co-worker Olia came and joined us and our fight to conquer the cup, right before 6 when the show was suppose to start. In typical Ukrainian fashion the show ended up starting twenty minuets late. It went really well and all the girls walked great and I think everyone who watched it really enjoyed the whole thing.


After it was all over we made our escape out into the cold and headed to a Polish pub called Four Friends, in high sprits that was due with a big part to all of the chocolate. At the pub I somehow got talked into playing fooseball. I do not know why people insist on me getting involved in sports. It never ends well, and yes I just called fooseball a sport.
We had a few beers there and talked with some more people who came and joined us. Olia and I at one point ended up going to Big Burger and getting these massive chicken burgers and eating them outside so all the mess we made just fell to the ground and didn’t matter. We both ended up with mayo all over are faces, but it was ok because we both just laughed it off and after all we were eating at big burger.
We then left that pub and went to another bar that I don’t remember the name of, but you cant smoke inside of it which is super nice, consider I’ve developed a smokers cough here and I have yet to smoke one cigaret in Lviv. I ordered a beer, but couldn’t finish it and Olia felt the same way about hers. Chad came back from the bathroom with an empty glass and a pink bendy straw for some odd reason and ended up taking some of both of our beers for us. Olia was wearing an Adidas track suit and was getting crap from all the people we were with for it, so I explained Sue Sylvester from Glee and how she was just trying to be her. I think it made her feel better about the whole situation. I also explained what a “bromance” is to Chad. I feel like once more people learn about this concept here it will really catch on.
After this bar we went to one in Old Town called Music lab. Its pretty cool, for what they play music wise. It’s all kind of alternative rock that they have stolen videos for off of youtube and show on TVs there. I was tired and done with drinking so I just sat there and enjoyed the company, until it was time to go. Oila, another girl, and I took a cab home and I was one of those nights that I was really glade to see my bed. Over all it was probably on of the best days that I’ve had in a long time in either here or America.

Week Two in Lviv: Understanding Life in Ukraine

I know I’ve been slacking on my blogs in a big way and for various reasons. A lot of nights I am too tired. I’ve also been trying to integrate myself into Lviv and the culture which I might need to remind some of you is the goal of my trip and course at school, also documenting it photographically. I am taking in a lot of things all at once and processing fast it isn’t the easiest thing to do. I think the best way to describe it is like eating an ice cream that has three flavors of ice cream, two different sauces, and of course rainbow sprinkles. (I am going to be completely honest I am jonesing for ice cream like no other right now.) You just want to sit there and enjoy each flavor and texture on its own and together and then after you are done you really just want to sit there and think of how tasty it was, and if anyone disturbs you before you are done with this you might be a little annoyed.
I also feel like I have to over explain everything. I could just write “I road the bus to the super market today.” but in reality just writing that would not do the ride justice. Its like nothing I have ever experienced in America. Some bus rides can be incredibly horrible if its super crowded and you are squished in and you don’t think any more people could possibly fit on the bus and 5 more people get on. Every ride is different. The thing that struck me as the oddest from an American perspective is the passing of money to pay. To ride the bus it costs 2 Grivna and if you are at the back you pass your money to the person in front of you and they pass it to the person in front of them and so on until the driver gets it. It always gets to the driver. No one ever pockets it and its expected that you will keep passing. I was near the driver today so if someone passed me a 5 Grivna bill for example I had to see that the correct change was given, making sure that it was one or two fares being paid for, just by where I stood. The driver was patient with me and my limited langue skills, but I think he could see that I wanted to help and that I was trying hard. My other bus ride there today I got on where I got off so I ended up riding to the turn around point and everyone got off and the driving gave me an odd look and I told him that I only spoke English and I said “City Center” and he just nodded and started counting his money. I don’t know if he normally would have let someone stay on the bus when he was doing this but he could see that I wasn’t Ukrainian and I wasn’t going to rob him. I just sat there playing a game on my iPod until he turned on the bus and we left. Also an interesting fact about buses in Ukraine. They just passed a law that they cannot play Russian music on the radio. Go national Ukrainian pride. An outsider may look at this as absurd and perhaps even a sign of a corrupt government, but its more the mentality that you are in Ukraine and you speak Ukrainian, not Russian. Its kind of similar to those of us in America who don’t want to press one for English. I know some of you can relate to that.
I was also talking to one of my Ukrainian friends today about all the “white power” symbols I have been seeing around and they explained that to them its not as much, down with other races, but national pride and about being proud of where you are from and your heritage. You have to look at things un-objectively when you travel. If a black person said black pride, or an asian said asian pride it has a completely diffrent connotation then if you were to hear white pride, which can easily lead down a slippery slope to people calling you a raciest. Also I should note that the “white power/pride” symbols I have been seeing are not the swastika. I have seen a few of those, but I feel that, the two are in different classes.
I also talked with a Ukrainian about my trip to the abandoned sports complex. I asked what had happened to it and why it was just there. They said that they didn’t know for sure in that specific case, but probably the funding had dried up and it was just left there. It happened a lot here in the 90’s with factories. A lot of those stand vacant around town. I kind of had a shocked look on my face and they said, well its not so different from a places in America, like Detroit where the work has gone so people just leave and places become abandoned because there is no point to put anything else there, when the economy cant support it.




Last night after dinner I was out with some people who are studying and teaching in Lviv and I commented on how I feel that a lot of people don’t work here. One of them then explained how work is here for a lot of people. They had a friend I’ll call Jonathan, after the book Everything is Illuminated (read it. Its one of the only books I can think of that takes place in Ukraine.) Jonathan’s first job is a night watchman at a monkey house, yes I wrote monkey house. You see there is this place that houses monkeys (I don’t really know why, I was laughing too hard to pay attention at this point in time) and a few years ago there was a fire at night and now they have someone there at nights incase this was to happen again so they could call the fire brigade and save the monkeys. If you are confused right now with this, you are right where you should be. He also works at the Natural Museum of History, something that involves in to be in the same room as someone who does taxidermy. I should probably tell you that the Museum has been closed for “renovations” for 20 years now. Every year the money that is set aside to fix it up kind of disappears, not so unusual here. I believe he also has one other job, but I can’t recall what it is right now. The point is that most people basically hustle here to survive. I know some of my American counter parts may wonder why he doesn’t get a “proper” job and its simply because there aren’t any.
I feel like a lot of people back home just do not understand why I would ever want to be in Ukraine and I feel like I keep trying to fight an uphill battle and no matter how hard I try to explain the good of this country its going to be over shadowed by the negative in the eyes of a lot of people. As a foreigner in this country I have been treated better here than I think a Ukrainian would ever be treated in America. How many times have you gone out of your way to physically walk someone who is lost to where they are trying to get to or stood there patiently when there is no common langue between the two of you until you got it figured out or shared some of your food even when you didn’t have that much to give? Perhaps this is why people are perpetually late here, they are going out of there way to help someone else.
I do not know how many of you know that story of my fist night in Lviv sixteen short months ago. I arrived at the train station around 11pm after traveling for since 9am. I had no idea what to expect. I had been warned by numerous people to not go to Ukraine, that it was dangerous and that I was sure to face violence and and an over all horrible time. I got off the train and walked out of the train station and thought to myself, now where the hell do I go? The tram didn’t stop for me, so I started to walk. I had no idea where I was going and everything was in cyrillic. I ended up walking by a group of adults in there late 40s and they asked if I needed help. They spoke next to no english, but I gave one of them the address to my hostel and he went across the road to talk to a cab driver. When he was gone they gave me an open faced sandwich to eat and vodka to drink. (Don’t refuse vodka in Ukraine. It doesn’t work.) It was also explained to me that it was one of the women’s birthday. The man came back and he told me that he had gotten a cab for me and they all hugged me goodbye and wished me luck on my journey. As soon as I arrived at my hostel I knew that Ukraine was ok in my book. Those people could have ignored the poor lost American and they certainly did not have to give me food and drink, but that is Ukraine for you.
I know its hard to imagine this place if you have never been here, but it sucks you in and steals your heart and you can’t help but feel pride for this nation and being a part of it, even if it is just being an outsider and standing witness to the everyday life of these people.