www.kyivpost.com: Inside Out with Yuliya Popova http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Parking is crazy in Kyiv, but things are looking up http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/121741/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 02 Feb 2012 22:39:03 +0200
From April 1, you won’t have to pay for parking unless there is a parking meter. And it’s not an early April Fools’ Day joke, unless, of course, officials postpone the law again.

Passed by the central government in 2009, it was delayed by two years first and then another three months on Jan.1 in the hope that the city would become a parking heaven with meters for every 9,000 legal car spaces.

Meter or no meter, drivers for now leave their wheels everywhere – from curbs and sidewalks to bus stops and tram tracks. The ancient city has been virtually taken over by vehicles with little respect for green spaces, let alone pedestrians.

There are many reasons for this: insufficient parking spots, lack of signage, personal ignorance and disdain for the rule of law. And so by the start of 2012, we only have 14 percent of all parking lots equipped with parking validators of one type or another.


Parking officers are to be replaced by parking meters by April 1. (Kostyantyn Chernichkin)

Moreover, the city has to figure out how to make drivers actually pay for their stay, a task much harder than buying the pay gadgets. Within the last decade, there were many punitive experiments, from wheel locks to tow trucks, but none of them survived more than a few months.

Sometimes it was getting plain ridiculous: I once struck a flowerbed in a parking lot on Pushkinska Street and lost my license for a while because of the mishap. Backing into a legal spot under a half-lit street lantern on a winter night, I suddenly felt a slight nudge, which seemed like a brick under a wheel.

And as accustomed as all motorists are to stones, potholes and hedgehogs on the roads (those are rampant in the Obolon district), I kept my foot on the gas thinking that the prickly mammals are asleep and it must be only a lump of ice.

Turns out it was a square, grey-stone flowerbed, under a blanket of snow, etching into my bumper. Feeling very disappointed, I rang the police because in Ukraine if you want your insurance company to cover something bigger than a nail scratch on your car, you have to get a dovidka (written proof) from the cops.

When the officers arrived, however, they were not impressed by my parking skills and took my license away, saying that I violated the parking boundaries by hitting the flower bed (which by the way remained intact unlike my bumper.)

As I don’t give bribes, I had to surrender my license, appear in court two months later, pay a Hr 300 fine and then drive around police offices for another two weeks delivering more dovidkas to retrieve the license.


After that incident, I confess that I stopped paying for parking. I felt that the law was not on my side, so why would I be playing straight?

Not the kind of behavior I am proud of today but it was what it was.

Besides, not every human parking enforcer in a fluorescent jacket actually deposits Hr 7-10 (the standard hourly parking fees in central areas) into the city coffers. Luckily, authorities must have felt the same way, finally choosing machines over people to collect cash.

So I think there is finally a green light at the end of this tunnel.

Consider the United States’ example. Parking bans and time limits have been imposed there since roughly the 1910s, according to the Institute for Transportation and Development Policy.

In 1935, a department store manager in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, initiated the first public meter to increase the “turnover” in front of his shop. It took about a decade for drivers to get used to the fact that they cannot park anywhere they want, and after trying various tricks from breaking to stealing meters, they gave in and began paying.

History repeats itself with every new immigrant who arrives dirt poor and will do everything possible to avoid paying a couple of dollars.

Covering the meter with a plastic bag to confuse a parking officer who is tracking electronic signals that expose cheats is one popular method of non-payment. Another trick is to wipe off a chalk mark that officers use on your tire to see if you’ve overstayed your welcome.

In this sense Kyiv is not far behind. From cutting off wheel clamps with a saw to threatening “fluorescent” enforcers, poverty makes people crafty.

But the good news is that we are on the way to getting meters now. I take it as a sign that in a decade or so we will start behaving ourselves, avoid sidewalk parking and navigate flowerbeds properly.

Yuliya Popova is the Kyiv Post’s former lifestyle editor.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Ukrainian filmmakers missing the great stories http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/113395/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 23 Sep 2011 01:57:37 +0300
Filmed in 2009, “La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet” is a journey through famed Opera Garnier, its dancers, instructors, directors and even cleaners.

It has no voice-over; director Frederick Wiseman let the camera speak for itself while traversing through rehearsal studios, administrative offices and actual performances. Sometimes he would peep into a staff meeting when dancers discuss pensions and strikes; another time he would drop into the office to follow the gritty business of selling tours to Americans.

This story of modern livelihood of the opera house told in the present tense – without curtsies to its Napoleonic history – got me thinking about Ukrainian film industry and the stories we choose to tell. Sadly, most of the modern films and documentaries I can recall dwell on history, and usually the bitter side of it.


Minimalism and simplicity drives modern ballet. (www.moviepilot.de)

During a recent movie pitching session organized by the State Film Agency, young and old film directors brought their ideas along to win a partial subsidy from the government. A good number of the pitches were about war, Chornobyl, Stepan Bandera and other famous historic figures and events.

While I am not diminishing their importance in the world of cinema, I would have liked to see more films about present-day Ukraine. There are tons of ideas floating around.

How about immigration stories? There are at least three million Ukrainians living abroad. What initially was intended to be a one- or two-year sojourn for many of them to make money has become a permanent solution.
While I am not diminishing their importance in the world of cinema, I would have liked to see more films about present-day Ukraine. There are tons of ideas floating around.

Then, how about the story on Kyiv Mayor Leonid Chernovetsky? His “space” adventures, flirting with babushkas and current fall from grace, spiced up with a dirty divorce, could provide a good plot for a melodrama. Zooming in on his time in office would turn into a colorful base for a political thriller.

And what about a love affair from Lviv? This charming city has a swath of love stories to rival thousands of pictures filmed in and about Paris.

But no, from the long list of history-strewn stories presented at the pitching session, I weeded out a bloody thriller at Obolon, a senseless comedy about sex in space and one art-house picture about family dynamics in Lviv over Christmas (this one I actually thought was excellent). But it was not enough.

Films, of course, are a very subjective issue to discuss even with your friends, let alone with thousands of readers. And yet, how many films about modern Ukraine can you remember? The Orange Revolution inspired a couple, but the euphoria of filming a picture on contemporary issues seems to have died as quickly as the Orange leaders fell out.

There are, however, a couple of films made by foreign directors about modern Ukraine that really inspire.

“The English Surgeon,” the award-winning documentary by Australian director Geoffrey Smith, was released in 2008. It made a star out of London-based neurosurgeon Henry Marsh, who has been coming to Ukraine for more than 15 years to donate his skills and operate on patients that the Ukrainian medical system considers hopeless.

His Ukrainian co-star, Dr. Ihor Kurilets, in the documentary exposes Ukraine’s outdated medical system, poverty and ignorance in his daily work at a hospital in Kyiv.

The 2010 film by German director Jacob Preuss, “The Other Chelsea. The story from Donetsk,” shows Donetsk as a place where rich and poor share the same passion – football. Miners with their miniscule wages and a handful of oligarchs with millions of dollars – all converge on a stadium.
Some may argue that it’s hard to get inspired in Ukraine’s corrupt reality (and it may not be safe at times). And so young writers find it easier to sell the kind of stories Soviet-born film directors feel comfortable with.

Oh, and don’t forget that documentary “Klitschko” about Ukrainian brothers’ humble beginnings and astounding boxing success was also filmed by a German. It premiered in New York this spring, and we are still waiting to sample it in Kyiv.

Some may argue that it’s hard to get inspired in Ukraine’s corrupt reality (and it may not be safe at times). And so young writers find it easier to sell the kind of stories Soviet-born film directors feel comfortable with.

At least this seemed to be the case with the State Film Agency that approved financing for films about Ukrainian philosophers, church leaders and Chornobyl.

Predictably, everything new (unless the invention is in the Silicon Valley) is treated with a great deal of skepticism pretty much anywhere.

Even the young ballet dancers in “La Danse” are reticent to accept that ballet today is no longer just “The Nutcracker.” Opera artistic directors in the French documentary encourage staff to take modern dance classes and leave their tutus for a special occasion.

The audience wants those spiky new works by younger choreographers, in which ballet stars look almost like gymnasts – modestly dressed, sharp in their motion and realistic in their story-telling.

If the French can break from the past, so can Ukrainians.


Kyiv Post lifestyle editor Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Vacation stays in Crimea, Odesa still reminiscent of Soviet Union http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/111172/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 19 Aug 2011 01:04:47 +0300

I used to spend three glorious summer months either skipping over the rope in our backyard or at the camping site sunbathing with grandparents.

Very rarely did we manage to escape to the seaside as a family.

One holiday in Crimea stuck in my memory very well.

Twin featureless Soviet-built hotels were slowly taking over the beaches near the green rolling hills of the Crimea's mountains. Shedding paint and bricks today, they looked modern and stylish in the '90s.

We didn’t have the money to stay in any of them and booked a trip to a sanatorium instead through my mother’s work. As a nurse, she was entitled to spend two weeks at the seaside – nearly all paid for by the state – to improve her health.

My dad is not a doctor and he wasn’t ill, so to go together, my mother had to ask her hospital to forge some documents and send him along as one of their former patients. They took me, of course.

My stay, however, was completely illegal in that lovely mansion, converted from the early 20th-century grand aristocratic home in the Crimean town of Simeyiz. So whenever somebody entered our room, I had to jump out of the window (luckily it was on the first floor).
That was in the 1990s.


A family spends a summer evening in their rented wooden shack in Zatoka, Odesa Oblast. (Petrut Calinescu)

Twenty years on, the options for summer travel changed tremendously. Most of the beautiful decadent villas went back into the private hands of Ukrainian millionaires. Ritzy international hotels slowly make their way in.

The coastline in Crimea and Odesa is just as good as in any Western resort, but that’s if you stay in central towns and don’t sidetrack.

A few weeks ago, we decided to leave the comfort of Odesa’s lovely wicker chairs in a café across the opera house and headed for the suburbs.

Some 50 kilometers from the famous Arkadia beaches, we ended up in a small resort town of Zatoka. Hundreds of holiday-makers strolled along entertainment strips, which somewhat reminded us of Cancun in Mexico.

The sandy strip by the sea was peppered with hotels, private dachas, small hectic markets and slews of cafes. People traffic was huge and it was very noisy.

Souvenir stalls with sea shells and sailors’ shirts, local wines sold in plastic bottles, darts, music stores – there was no end to this fun fair.

Yet, this illusion of a Western resort lasted only until we checked into our hotel, which charged $50 per night for their best room (in Odesa, they don’t take less than a $100, by the way).

When I walked in, I realized that the spirit of the Soviet Union was still alive and kicking.

Some 30-year old furniture, absence of any curtains and a fridge making sounds like an old train were a sight all too familiar.

We wandered out. The wooden houses on the hotel territory looked like prison cells with little windows, spring beds and facilities outside. They were crowded with families.

I couldn’t believe people not only stayed in this decrepit accommodation but also looked quite happy about it.
We stayed in Zatoka for two nights.

Suddenly, our regular needs of philosophical self-fulfillment, as in the top tier of Maslow’s pyramid, were no longer relevant. We lacked safety and physiological comfort.

There was a lot of greasy junk food sold everywhere but not a decent salad without mayo in sight.
I might have felt what my parents experienced when they were hiding me from the staff in the sanatorium.

Luckily, I was only an observer. But for many people in Ukraine, Zatoka and other beach resorts in Crimea and Odesa are still luxury destinations.

And if they manage to afford a shack by the sea, it would make them happy. But they deserve more.

And hopefully, in another 20 years, they will be able to afford a room with a shower in it.

Kyiv Post lifestyle editor Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Foreign marriages wipe out stereotypes, enrich culture http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/89678/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 12 Nov 2010 00:07:36 +0200
In the very least, I expected a conversation going back to the tower of Babel – that famous story from Genesis – and relevance to developments in Ukraine, Russia and the United Kingdom.

But Oleksandr maintained that people should stay where they were born and stick to their genetic fate. He used the “physics” of language to explain it.

Every time you use a word, it whispers a little story, he said.

These little tales help us understand our own history and mentality. An expert in etymology and professor of law, he started with the word “time.”

It comes from Latin tempus, which means progression, pace and speed. The Russian word for time (vremya) derives from vereteno or a spindle, he said.


Anastasia Haydulina and Luis Graham-Yooll tie the knot at the Camden Town Hall in London on Nov. 5. (Andrew Bicknell)


Digging further we arrive at varta ma, which means the sun in Sanskrit. So, in Russia, people think of time as something that follows a pretty predictable routine. It’s up in the morning and down in the evening, just like the sun. In the West, however, tempus is something that streams ahead.

Furthermore, when you take the Ukrainian word for time (chas), it comes from a word chastyna or a particle of something. Ukrainians then think of time as something that doesn’t progress. It’s even worse than a Russian sunny wheel. Ukrainian time is always the same.

According to Oleksandr, his daughter’s Ukrainian-Russian genes may get a little confused mixing up with the groom’s chemistry.

And in the greater scheme of the universe, the pendulum should follow its own verified path. We could, of course, argue back quoting success stories of the immigrant nations, such as the U.S. But Oleksandr also seemed to have a point.

He then moved on to space. When you know your etymology, this word should immediately summon you back to the Roman Empire when soldiers were driving wedges between certain intervals, or spatiums, into the ground.

The Western brain then thinks of the space as it does of time – a road that goes ahead marked by polls. If I have not confused you yet, imagine Russian prostranstvo.

When you dissect it, it’s a product of three words: progress, sides and creativity.

To make your life easier, think of Russian space as a circle with sun rays beaming out creatively in various directions. In other words, Russians are lost in space exploring every possible direction out there.

In Ukrainian, space is prostir, which is almost the same as in the Russian language but without the creative bit. So in a Ukrainian head, space is perceived as a circle with sun rays pointing in.

To cut it short, we are again in conflict with Western mentality, where Roman soldiers are building their space moving ahead. Ukrainians, though, seem to always go back where they started. How true if you apply this formula to our politics.

You can probably tell that my head was spinning by the end of the flight. But I landed with a very different conclusion than the bride’s father. Anastasia, who’s the wife of Luis now, has written her own little tale blending Eastern and Western etymology quite successfully.

She is not your ordinary Ukrainian girl traveling to London following that clueless notion of time and space. She was, in fact, hunted down by Bloomberg news before Luis put a ring on her finger.

And I am very encouraging of their union because whatever Luis is lacking in the creative department, Anastasia would fill in. And if she loses her sense of direction, Luis will be there like that Roman legionary on a mission to push it forward.

So foreign marriages can and will work when couples can speak the same language and enrich each other’s culture through it. Doing so won't tear an umbilical cord away from their homeland.

It’s fascinating if we can take an elevator back to the first floor of that imaginary Babel tower and understand each other beyond space, time and history.

Kyiv Post Lifestyle Editor Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yulia Popova: New lifestyles offer challenge to traditional family values http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/82712/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 17 Sep 2010 00:02:31 +0300
A decade ago, immigration or just a temporary job abroad were classified as bad news by the family. Now, globalization has sucked Ukraine in. It plays a heavy hand at changing cultural values, not to mention economy and politics.

In the country where state-run welfare services are minimal, there is a great belief that families must work as a team and help each other. So it was quite normal in the age preceding Internet for mothers and fathers to make career choices and marriage plans together with their children.

No, we are not talking about Sri Lanka where parents are running ads in the newspaper to find suitable matches for their daughters and sons. Ukraine is a type of habitat where children often spend a lot of quality time with their parents, discussing anything from grocery shopping to future partners.

It was more than once that I was stopped in the center of Kyiv by a mother looking for an embassy or a bus stop.

Middle-aged women would listen to directions first and then tearfully complain how much they miss their daughters, now living abroad. In one such heartfelt account, the lady told me about her daughter marrying a French man and giving birth to a son.

She was upset that she gets to see the grandchild only once a year, and those occasions are not enough to teach him Ukrainian or make him understand his grandparents’ life. The woman, however, was not angry with her daughter.

She blamed the state for stifling economic opportunities at home, which are now making her second daughter leave as well. I’d say it’s a good thing that at least borders are open, but parents think otherwise.

This scenario would not usually happen in the U.S. or most countries in Europe where employment, travel, and dating are a matter limited to the individuals concerned. Children are expected to move out of family homes as soon as they enter college.

Gap years and internships abroad are encouraged as “the time of your life” opportunities. And rarely does a parent cling on to a child’s shoulder and begs to stay if a young professional finds a job abroad.

Ukraine is a different story. It’s a close-knit society where personal relations are more important than work.

Relatives feel that it’s an obligation to provide jobs for each other because of kinship rather than ability or qualifications. The result is often a nightmare, just look at government offices heaving with appointees who do not merit the jobs. What’s worse is that it happens at every level of society, and it’s a major barrier to economic and political progress.

Many parents put their offspring on a plane, thinking their lives are over. And you can’t blame them as the mentality breeds habit. So far I met only one couple, in their 50s, who didn’t regret their family’s foreign plights.

Coming from Ivano-Frankivsk suburbs, they immigrated to Portugal 10 years ago, while their daughter went to study in the U.S.

We met on a plane, and for three hours, the woman kept me entertained with stories about Portuguese politics and her daughter owning “the whole house” somewhere in Massachusetts. Working as a maid in Lisbon, she was your typical Ukrainian housewife, but her interests reached well beyond family dinners. Independent travel broke her family’s stereotypes and allowed for a fuller experience of the world.

Ukraine prides itself on traditional family values, but sometimes they sadly stifle European integration. With easier access to foreign travel and education, however, the younger generation is happily saying good riddance to them.

Mothers lament their passing, but a generation gap has been and will be a recurring issue. I am glad embassies are busy with more young people who now come with less strings attached.

Kyiv Post Lifestyle Editor Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com ]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: What I learned on my long, strange trip with the Kyiv Post http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/73823/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 15 Jul 2010 23:28:32 +0300
I first set foot in the Kyiv Post in 2002. It was easy to do, since it was located right behind the wall from Afisha magazine, where I worked at the time. First I was freelancing, but in the spring of 2003 I managed to permanently hop over to the Post and stay there. Well, in fact, I only stayed there for a year and half before departing temporarily to work on another English-speaking project. I triumphantly (at least I like to view it as such) returned to KP in the winter of 2006. Over the years I’ve seen the newspaper change in many ways – some for the better, others quite depressing. There were times when the editorial team was really a happy, friendly family, at other times it was every man (and woman) for himself.

I have worked with seven different chief editors here, my experiences varying between neutral, fun and pretty awful. And at least one of those people I’ve had as a boss still makes me wonder if he comes from this planet. Still I’m glad that I didn’t escape the paper when it was a sinking ship, but leaving it now, in good hands, and with great prospects ahead.

But, of course, the most incredible changes took place in Kyiv itself. It probably takes a foreigner’s eye to say exactly how much and how radically the capital changed over the past 10 years. But as a writer about entertainment, shopping and culture in the city, I could point out just how much this particular scene actually altered – both in positive and negative ways.


Still exotic back in 2002, supermarkets have grown into an essential part of Kyivans' lives. (Courtesy photo)

In the early 2000s, mobile phones were still a bit of a luxury. Many had them, but if someone didn’t have one, it was far from surprising. And surely almost every babushka and school kid didn’t walk around with a phone as they do now. Now many Kyivans have tiny computers for phones, and of those, only a few actually need them for work. For the rest, it’s just a luxury accessory to show off at every given occasion – like an expensive miniature dog, part of another amazing trend.
But surely, the phone-mania has more to do with technological progress, the same kind that has allowed people to sit in restaurant and bars with their laptops or netbooks open – all because Wi-Fi became such a common feature in the city’s eateries.

One thing that was still a privilege in 2002 and grew into a major trend by now is sushi. It used to be available only at the poshest restaurants, and then, suddenly, the first eatery of Yakitoriya chain popped up right across from our office at the time on Lesi Ukrayinky, offering more reasonably priced sushi options. Yakitoria quickly expanded, joined by other sushi chains as well as numerous sushi bars and sushi menus at every other restaurant in the city. Before long, Kyivans were preparing the formerly exotic dish in their homes or buying it for lunch at supermarkets.

Speaking of supermarkets, 10 years ago they were far from being so common and ubiquitous. I can still remember the dreadful Gastronom (common Soviet name for big grocery shops) near my parents’ house in Troyeschina. Then it was converted into Silpo, one of the biggest supermarket chains in the city. By now, all the city gastronoms were replaced with a supermarket of one or another chain, and just as many supermarkets were built from scratch. Where I now live in Obolon, I can choose among Silpo, EKO, Velyka Kyshenya and Novus in Dream Town. A short drive away is also Karavan supermarket. That’s the kind of choice one could dream of in the beginning of 2000s.


One of the latest malls to open in Kyiv and clearly the biggest in the city, Dream Town in Obolon is a shopping and entertainment heaven for anyone who has money to spend. (Dima Burdiga)

Shopping malls also just began appearing in the country as I started working at the Post. First Metrograd (Lva Tolstoho-Bessarabska Ploshcha), and then Globus (Maidan Nezalezhnosti) opened their doors, both in 2002. The latter, especially, became a popular tourist trap, a shopping paradise and place to see and to be seen. However, as mall mania overtook the city, Globus was no longer the main attraction. Kyvians got a chance to choose among malls like Karavan, Promenada, Bolshevik, Aladdin, Gorodok, Ukraina, Kvadrat, Materik or Magellan – each located in a different part of town. Most of them offer not just comfy shopping, but also fun for the whole family with restaurants, bars, skating rinks, cinemas and more.

Along with malls, a trend for chains for just about everything – clothing, makeup and perfume, and electronics shops, drugstores, restaurants, drycleaners and carwashes – took the city consumer culture to a different level, making it easy to obtain just about any product or service you needed, provided you had money to spend. Moreover, discount cards were introduced by most of the chains, keeping customers coming back. An average Kyivan nowadays has more discount cards than he or she can fit in their biggest wallet. Another thing that made shopping easier are bank cards that started to be used far and wide, and now you can easily pay with them at the majority of the city’s supermarkets, restaurants and shops.

The restaurant scene has also experienced incredible growth in the last decade. Anyone has many choices when it comes to picking a place for dinner – for any pocket, and serving any cuisine. There are more new restaurants constantly opening than it’s possible to keep track of, but pricier places still dominate somehow and, when choosing something mid-range, it is best to rely on your own experience or someone’s advice, to get quality for your money.


Nearly 20 years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, service at many local restaurants and bars still has a decidedly Soviet flavor: dull, indifferent, and often rude. (UNIAN)

Clubs are doing well too, though there are still hardly any places in the city where I'd personally would like to party. But fans of house and techno surely have many options, with famous deejays from abroad often coming to play both at small and big venues, and headlining the frequent electronic music festivals.
Ukrainians began to travel a lot. Turkey and Egypt could be considered “exotic” vacations back in 2002, but now it’s nothing but an obvious choice. Tunisia, Morocco and Thailand are also quite popular. So if you wish to spend your holidays someplace not yet crowded with Ukrainian and Russian tourists, you’re going to have to think hard.

Finally, culture-wise, Kyiv didn’t dramatically change. Some more small theaters have appeared, some museums were renovated, but all government-funded establishments are suffering from lack of investment as much as before. However, things are going a lot better for contemporary art. Both veterans and young beginner Ukrainian artists flourish, having a number of projects and art contests to participate in on the regular basis, and plenty of galleries in Kyiv to display their works at. From the number of art galleries, I take that art business is going well and works of Ukrainian artists sell.

But while there is an obvious progress in some spheres, others remained as they were or even degraded. The concerts of now popular international artists – and I don’t mean former stars of French musicals or ageing rock idols – find their way to Ukraine even less often than before. There are no more than two-three significant musical events per year. As an additional disappointment to expats and English-speaking Ukrainians like me, movies in the original languages are even harder to spot in local cinemas than they used to, despite the fact that the number of theaters has probably tripled over the last 10 years. Globe Bookstore at Metrograd remains one of few obvious choices to look for a book in English – even though it’s quite tiny. There is also Petrivka market, but here the choice is chaotic in every sense.

While high-end hotels like Intercontinental and Hyatt Regency are here, the selection of mid-range hotels is just as poor as it used to be. With more and more cars constantly flowing in the city, drivers are just becoming ruder and crazier. And when it comes to parking – which is still a complete mayhem – they do it in the most selfish manner imaginable.

Finally, going back to restaurants, bars and clubs – yes there are many, but the number has nothing do with the quality – both of food and service. A smiling, polite and attentive wait staff is still such a rarity in Kyiv that every time you meet someone like that, you’re almost tempted to ask this person’s autograph. Clearly the managers don’t care to train their staff to treat customers with respect. The waiters obviously forget about service in exchange for tips rule, therefore you can easily be treated with indifference or, in the worst case – insolence and aggression.

So, to sum up – it’s sure been fun over the last 10 years, especially the six of them that I’ve spent at the Post. And while some things in Kyiv I’d be glad to get away from, others I will miss. But most of all, I’ll miss my family and my friends. As for you, readers, I’m not saying goodbye. I hope to do a good job occasionally writing to you from my new location, as a foreign reporter – both filtering my new experiences and looking at my native Ukraine with an ex-pat eye.


Kyiv Post Alexandra Matoshko can be reached at matoshko@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: A nation has to love its culture, history before others will http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/71709/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 01 Jul 2010 22:43:06 +0300
Growing up, French boys and girls attend schools with names like Claude Debussy or Honore Balzac. I went to school #1 in Cherkasy named after Vladimir Lenin but it quickly shed the communist association when the Soviet Union fell through. Most high schools have kept numerical names to this day though, and only the selected few call themselves lyceums and gymnasiums, also remembering poets or country leaders in their names. Kyiv Mohyla Academy is arguably the only higher institution in the country requiring an applicant to pass entrance tests on the history of the establishment.

Academically, our schools do just fine on Ukrainian literature and world history. But when it comes to field trips, teachers would limit students’ exposure to poet Taras Shevchenko’s grave in Kaniv and Kyiv Pechersk Lavra monastery at best. And that already would be a voluntary act on their behalf because the education policy does not encourage any cultural outings.

So, if we are not even interested in our students learning about culture and traditions, I doubt we can do a good job promoting this in the tourist sector either.

Take the case of the French. They consider an artistic profession a respectable calling and pump money into the industry, which attracts millions of tourists each year. Along the Seine, multiple green stalls are affixed to the embankments where street vendors sell art reprints, posters and small souvenirs. These metal boxes look as unfitting as mayor Leonid Chernovetsky’s green toilets along Khreshatyk Street. But just as Kyiv needs toilets because of unlimited beer drinking on the street despite official bans, Paris relies on its stalls to sell art work to swarms of tourists.

Each country has its own priorities, and sadly Ukraine is bigger on alcohol than art. Consider the saga of St Andrew’s descent, coiled up by merchants and artists since 18th century.

Around 2006, authorities announced its souvenir trade too chaotic and called for rearrangement. In other words, they want art trade replaced with restaurants, hotels and banks for a quick fill-in of state coffers and private pockets. To enact it, city lawmakers made a small amendment to the lease rules by equating artists and businesses. It meant that a painter who previously paid $5 per square meter in his gallery could no longer compete with a hotel that was ready to pay $100.

Artists often deal with arson attempts, electricity cutoffs, and locks changed overnight. There have been forceful takeovers and legal battles. Smaller vendors were required to change makeshift tents with metal kiosks. At one point, one wing of the market place that sold paintings completely disappeared. Given that St Andrew's is one of the most popular art venues in Ukraine, one can only imagine what happens to smaller bohemian nooks.

Ukraine’s artistic community keeps petitioning as high up as the president’s offices but there are obviously not many art connoisseurs there either.

When I was telling this story to Muriel, a French vendor who sells prints of 1900’s art-deco posters, she was shocked. Working across the Notre Dame de Paris cathedral, she told me she was in the business for 30 years. No one has ever threatened her job. Once though, the French government tried to cut special unemployment benefits to art workers, like her. In 2003, artists rebelled against the plan by cancelling art festivals, striking on the streets and threatening to disrupt International Film Festival in Cannes.

Ukraine is big on protests too but rarely do they have impact. The St Andrew’s community, although supported by famous actors and artists, represents the nostalgic glance backwards with no purchase on the immediate presence. The commercial use of heritage places makes more sense as far as jobs and paying taxes go. But on the other hand, you can’t take history and culture away from its people. Places like Montmartre, St Andrew’s and their likes shape national identity.

And if the state keeps devouring its own history, I would not be surprised if many more Ukrainians choose schools de Victor Hugo for their offspring.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com ]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Slavic attitudes come to fore when mixing with foreigners http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/70075/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 17 Jun 2010 21:44:03 +0300
Coming face-to-face with these ugly sides of life, many foreigners view Ukraine as a barbarian land lacking manners and rule of law.

Yes, our reality may be less glamorous than what one sees on dating websites and beautiful baroque streets in the center of Kyiv. But the fact that we tail in investment climate and living standards, fail in democratic reforms and can’t get out of Ukraine with a backpack doesn’t mean we are innate losers.

The problem is that we often think of ourselves as losers, burying any opportunity for change. Malcolm Gladwell's novel "Outliers" and his painstaking research on what determines success have been truly inspirational to piece Ukraine together. Squeezed for space, I will mention only one study from the book to give you an example

In the 1960s and 1970s, Dutch psychologist Geert Hofstede traveled the world interviewing IBM employees to study their interaction and attitude towards superiors. Today “Hofstede’s Dimensions” is like a bible if you want to unlock the secret of why one nation acts differently to another, and how that can be fixed, argues Gladwell.

Hofstede came up with four comparative measurements: 1. Small versus large power distance; 2. Individualism versus collectivism; 3. Masculinity versus femininity; and 4. Weak versus strong uncertainty avoidance.

So let’s reconsider our backpackers and see what drives them.

I often felt like the only black swan in the gang of white birds on trips abroad. There were tons of happy-go-lucky Brits, Aussies and Europeans around, and only me from the whole Eastern European bloc. If you compare Russian and American rankings on the Hofstede’s scale of things, you’ll understand why.

In the power distance table, the U.S. ranks 40, while Russia has 93. What it means is that Russians feel inferior to their bosses, whereas Americans are more comfortable about disagreeing with those on top. A Russian would rarely leave on a crazy unscheduled trip around the world because that means upsetting a whole bunch of superiors in their life: parents, directors, etc.

No need to dig into psychology to understand that Russians are much less assertive, flexible and independent than Americans. Hence they rank 39 against an American strong 91 on the independence scale.

By calling a culture masculine, Hofstede refers to the high level of ambition and competitiveness – traits we usually associate with men. Family and relationships make up for a feminine attribute of the culture, regardless of the makeup of population. Not surprisingly, Americans conquer this rating with a manly 62 against Russia’s boyish 36. So, that's another reason why Johns outnumber Ivans in the Amazon forests.

And when things go awry, Russians tend to come to a standstill. In contrast, Americans cope with uncertainty as they would with a sudden rain shower by opening an umbrella.

Russians with 95 points on this index of ambiguity prefer following the predictable scheme: go to school, find a job, marry, get a mortgage, have a baby and go on the all-inclusive trip with swarms of other Slavs.

Americans, for their part, find it easier to break out of patterns, hence grabbing their backpacks, roaming the world, searching for their own formula of life and sticking with the job only for as long as it takes for a new opportunity to present itself.

I came across the cultural difference vividly in my previous job when I was interviewed by a British but hired to work under a Russian. A job interview in London was like sailing a boat in good weather with an experienced friend who allowed me to take a lot of initiative. The actual work in Moscow was like navigating a storm under pretty autocratic management who really couldn’t stand any individualism.

Sadly but predictably, no official ranking has been done for Ukraine, so I took the liberty to take Russia as the base for comparison, given our mutual history. I believe, however, that western Ukraine would score closer to Poland and other Western countries, given a chance.

So, how much Ukrainians will succeed in the world, whether backpacking or in having a voice internationally, depends on whether we’ll be capable of shedding parts of our cultural legacy. No one says it’s easy. Our mentality was shaped way before collectivist methods of the Soviet Union were forced upon us. The tragic history of Ukraine being harassed and ripped apart by different empires, genocides and deportations left centuries-old scars deep down in our genes.

Slavs often tend to follow the crowd and are afraid to hold their superiors to account. Few take responsibility for anything, confirming the popular saying: My home is at the end of the village.

There is little trust in one’s abilities. But we can watch other success stories and follow suit.

If the British or Germans work their socks off in a bar – both while studying at school and during holiday seasons to save for a big journey, why can’t we?

There’s no need to rely solely on parents to supply us with pocket money, food and connections to land a job after graduation. Parental guidance and cash help big time, of course, but Ukrainians must invest into their own education, practical intelligence and trust more in themselves.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Silence can be golden, but not in a nation that needs debate http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/68601/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 03 Jun 2010 22:54:14 +0300
It’s frustrating to encounter indifference on the street, let alone manage daily interactions at work. Somehow introducing oneself as a journalist in this country doesn’t do the trick. Communications departments in Ukraine’s government institutions take all the time in the world to answer queries.

No one’s going to speak to you in the press office before you send them a fax, signed by the chief editor on letterhead. It must also carry a special number, assigned by the sender, so that civil servants can officially register it in their books – paper, not electronic, ledgers, of course. They don’t care if a journalist just takes this number from top of his or her head – it’s not their problem. I have learned to live with it as a silly procedure that helps you get someone on the phone within a couple of days.


This Soviet-era poster says “Don’t gossip!.” Ukrainians still seem to be under the influence of this World War II propaganda. (Courtesy)

Some offices, however, go as far back in their communication model as asking journalists to mail their questions by post after sending a facsimile. No one seems to trust email either. I guess carrier pigeons will be next.

Explaining that journalists do not have to disclose their questions before the interview is like teaching calculus to a first-grader. PR agents and their bosses got spoiled by Ukrainian media that would reveal their agenda from the start.

Of course, Ukraine today is not the Ukraine of the Soviet Union, where suppression of free speech was ubiquitous. During World War II, posters with a lady pressing a finger against her lips as a sign to be quiet were adequate. Painter Nina Vatolina made the banner in 1941, when windows were being draped tight to prevent leaks. Vatolina’s neighbor posed for this work when her sons were already away at war.

A popular saying -- that a talker is a godsend for the enemy – is sadly still kicking around. Interviewing people on the street today is hard. If they give you an honest comment, they usually don’t want to give you their name. And they don’t want their picture taken. Some of my colleagues noticed that it’s gotten worse since the change of president and government in February.

President Viktor Yanukovych’s administration claims there’s no censorship in Ukraine. Their officials, however, were recently exposed asking journalists not to release footage and photographs when Yanukovych was accidentally hit on the head by a memorial wreath.

I can’t remember former U.S. President George W. Bush banning video of a shoe thrown at him during a press conference. Nor can I recall French President Nicolas Sarkozy thwarting journalists’ shots of him standing on a small box while delivering speeches. Yes, Sarkozy is a short man, but not as petty and shortsighted as some Ukrainian autocrats.

I remember interviewing another big politician in Ukraine who mentioned Jesus Christ when asked who he would like to get on his team. It was a superb quote indicating the scope of the problems he is facing, and the divine powers it would take to meet the challenges. But he quickly disowned it, saying that some people may get offended by the reference to religion.

But he said it on record, during an official interview! By pulling the quote out, this politician confirmed a major pathology in the Ukrainian way of thinking: saying little about what really matters, thus stifling change and covering up problems.

Talking about the censored mentality, the popular Soviet movie from the 1980s, “The Envy of the Gods,” springs to mind.

In one of its episodes, an editor rushes from a fax machine to the studio, where anchors are already live on air. She passes them a news sheet, fresh from the Kremlin printers and ready for dissemination. When presenters read out the story, it becomes clear that it’s propaganda, not news.

Many Ukrainians are still afraid of communicating and making presentations. The problem is not 21st-century technology or Internet chat rooms quashing human interaction. The elderly and middle-aged say they fear government pressure and persecution. Youngsters, however, simply never learn how to articulate well. During recent BBC debates on education in Kyiv, many professors and employers complained that students are not taught how to communicate properly.

Hence, there’s little surprise we get monosyllabic press officers guarding their information instead of passing it on. To feel fully in control, they choose to interact by post.

Ironically, when I addressed the presidential press service with this problem, asking them to assist in getting information from one of the ministries, they said they had to go through the same procedure: fax the inquiries!

At the end of the day, the way we communicate with others often determines the quality of our lives – be it a chat with a waitress or a request for information from a civil servant. Writer Bernard Shaw one said that “the single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”
In modern-day Ukraine, there are still plenty of these illusions, and still little communication.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com ]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Cemeteries tell revealing stories about a nation’s culture http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/66660/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 13 May 2010 20:53:32 +0300
A different religious confession is the obvious answer. Orthodox Christians in central and eastern Ukraine turn cemeteries into black-and-white photo albums where tombstones feature pictures of the dead. In the west, Catholics and Greek-Catholics decorate their resting place with white stone angels or other saints.

Ukrainians across the country are rather responsible looking after their forebears’ graveyards. Orthodox believers choose to weed out any sprouts of wild grass making this home of sorrow look even more black and dismal. They plow lanes and plant flowers on small hillocks over the graves. Prominent crosses sit atop, along with small monuments, forming an eclectic mix of Christian and Soviet traditions. Granite or marble rectangular slabs bear images of the dead, photographs and even epitaphs. Fake flowers of acid pink and green, although never fading, hardly inspire thoughts of eternal life.



A woman cleans and decorates the grave of her relatives in Kyiv on April 11. (UNIAN)


Western Ukrainian cemeteries, on the other hand, look friendlier. Tomb stones and small monuments match in size, suggesting that everyone is equal after death. In spring, people let the grass take over the grounds, injecting some life into an otherwise dead place.

Graveyards around churches have been discontinued in the Russian empire after the 1771 Moscow plague. Tsars ordered cemeteries out of the city borders. Burying near the church was reserved only for the outstanding governors and church leaders. In the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, for example, you’ll find very few graves – one of them to Pyotr Stolypin, Russian prime minister in the early 1900’s, known for his agriculture reform. The founder of Moscow, Yuri Dolgorukov is also buried in the Lavra.

If you follow the path to the Far Caves, you'll get to the Church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary. There’s a small cemetery behind it where fresh graves border with the very old. It’s not allowed to bury on the church premises, but Lavra follows its own laws. When someone of a higher rank in the Lavra dies, they bury him at the cemetery, indicating only names on the tomb stones, omitting any dates.

Traditions of honoring the dead also differ from east to west of Ukraine. Memorial rituals in the Orthodox calendar fall on the ninth day after Easter. People save up some Easter cakes and painted eggs blessed in the church for this day. Taking food to the cemetery, they leave it at the graves for the dead who are believed to come down from heaven on this occasion. Others add vodka to this little picnic, leaving a shot covered with a piece of bread at the tomb. A lot of families can be seen eating and drinking at the cemetery – that, however, is the wildest interpretation of the ritual.

Albeit Orthodox priests serve memorials at the cemeteries on this day, they fail to explain that eating and drinking is mentioned nowhere in the Bible. There’s no such thing as a vacation for the dead on memorial days in the scriptures, either. Earthly food is for survival of the living. Leaving it for the dead goes back to the pagan times. Kyiv’s main Baikove cemetery used to have signs, banning food and drink on its premises in the 19th century. Some, however, believe that alcohol helps to release tension and soften the pain.


In Catholic and Greek-Catholic tradition, there’s no place for cemetery feasts. Austrian-Hungarian Empire and then Poland left their mark in western part of Ukraine. Memorial days fall on the beginning of November. In Podillya that stretches across Khmelnytsky, Vinnytsia, Ternopil and parts of other regions, cherry trees are traditional at cemeteries – also an echo from the pagan times when trees were deemed as middlemen with the afterlife.

I personally find all local graveyards depressing. One, however, stands out. Lychakivsky cemetery in Lviv is more of a sculpture park sprinkled with legends. A banker is buried in a special vault, to enter which you had to know a code. A liquor magnate wished to walk to his own grave after death. So he designed a special mechanism to be stitched to his legs, which would enable his body to take the final few steps to his crypt. Armenian doctor’s dogs were buried with their owner. Pluto and Nero’s sculptures guard his bust near the entrance to the cemetery.

Dogs stayed at his grave without food and drink until they passed away. One outlived another by a single day, and so the sculptors marked it with two tears. These and many other legends turn Lychakiv into a fascinating journey. They even offer night excursions for the true taphophiles, those with high interest for the cemeteries.

One more Ukrainian grave recently sprung to spotlight. Built in the shape of the Egyptian pyramid, it once belonged to the family of Nick Clegg. The front man of the British Liberal Democratic party, he is a descendent of Russian aristocracy. Clegg’s great-great grandfather, who was regarded as one of Tsarist Russia’s most eccentric aristocrats, became obsessed with ancient Egypt and built an actual pyramid – albeit small -- on his sprawling estate in Ukraine. It stands until this day in Poltava region.

German and Jewish cemeteries also stand out from others. Many German soldiers died in Ukraine during the World War II. Their graves have been relocated to separate cemeteries.

Violent Jewish massacres left their scars all over the country. Special attention is paid annually at Holocaust memorial in the Babyi Yar ravine in Kyiv. Tens of thousands of Jewish people also go on pilgrimage to Uman (Cherkasy region) every year to pay their respects to Rabbi Nachman, a prominent spiritual leader in the history of Hasidism.

So, if you aren’t really a bookworm but want a glimpse of history from an odder angle, head for the cemeteries.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: This is one Yuliya who would like more variety http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/66015/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 07 May 2010 00:10:44 +0300
An inquiry into what - or rather who – preceded a tedious army of namesakes, unzipped a few interesting facts. History of names in this part of the world can be roughly divided into three periods: pagan, Christian and Soviet.

So for the first thousand or so years - before Christianity was adopted in 988 – the ancients named their children after forces of nature, traits of character, gods or animals. To give you an idea of the world back then, there were Wind, Pike, Nut and Yarylo (the Sun god), among others. Names made of two things or features were also popular. Some have even made it to our days. Vsevolod, a name made of two words, means a man who owns it all; Svyatozar – the one with a holy shine; Tyhomyr brings out peace and quiet.

People would acquire these names as teenagers at the time when their characters were more or less defined. At birth, however, they were called rather devious names to repel evil spirits. In those days you could easily end up lulling your baby Nekras (ugly), Zloba (spite), or Durak (fool).

Nature and people’s instincts in giving names waned under the pressure of a new force – Christianity. It was not just considered pious to name someone Peter or Ivan (John); it was required by the church calendar. Each day in the calendar was dedicated to particular saints and martyrs, and kids received their names according to when they were born. Kateryna, Anastasia, and Yulia among others came from Greece where the Orthodox Church was making first bold strides.

Sadly, only a small number of old Slavic names became canonical. Take for instance Prince Volodymyr, who baptized the Kyiv Rus. In his 30s, he was renamed into Vasyl in honor of Byzantium Emperor Basyl II. Only later, his name at birth, Volodymyr, was considered holy enough to appear in the church records.

Religious reforms were shaping up this ubiquitous calendar throughout centuries to come. Some argue there were not enough saints, martyrs or other destiny-changing priests of Slavic descent to enrich the calendar. Others say we had plenty of religious heroes – they just went down in history under already known Christian names. As a result, Ivan had up to 80 name days, Anna – nearly 20, and Maria – around a dozen in the church calendar. Male names significantly outnumbered the female ones. Since women played little part in state and church affairs, their names were rarely recorded.

Patronymics, or middle name derived from the father’s first name, appeared well before surnames. Apparently only very important people were entitled to have patronymics. In the 17th century, Russian Tsar Vasily granted the Stroganovs’ family the use of patronymics for making Ural and Siberia part of the empire.

Things started to change around 1917 - right after the demise of the royal family. When Lenin separated church from the state, the revolutionary spirit was still pungent. No longer required to go by the old books, some patriots were naming their sons Vladlen, an acronym for Vladimir Lenin. Among other revolutionary names for girls were Dazdraperma (a rude-sounding acronym from Long Live May 1st!) and Ninel (Lenin read backwards.) Marlen may sound like Marilyn Monroe’s first name, but in reality it stands for Marx and Lenin. The first electric light bulb invented around the same time was also glorified in a female name: Perli or Pervaya ElektRicheskay Lampochka Illicha.

The sea of communist names was somewhat diluted by foreign arrivals like Rudolf and Timur. After the World War II, however, people longed for stability and consistency when naming their children. And so Oleksandr, Oleksiy, Iryna, and Svetlana made a huge comeback. There are up to 20 popular female and male names that roam Ukrainian, Russian, Belorussian streets and beyond. Simple Christian names were tested by history, and no revolution could defame them.

Those who continued to experiment came mainly from rural areas. Some experts point out that intellectuals, for the most part, do not follow the fashion and prefer mature names.

If that is still the logic these days, this country is full of intellectuals. But somehow, it seems that tradition and conservativeness contribute more to the naming trends.


Top 15 names in 2009
(Source: Ministry of Justice)

Male:

Maksym, Viktor, Oleksandr, Kyrylo, Denys, Danylo, Andriy, Artem, Dmytro, Vladyslav, Yaroslav, Mykyta, Yegor, Illya, Bohdan.

Female:

Anastasiya, Sofiya, Anna, Darya, Valeriya, Mariya, Yulia, Yelyzaveta, Oleksandra, Kateryna, Alina, Nataliya, Viktoriya, Angelina, Veronika.



Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: From clothes diet to binge dressing, styles are off-key http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/64788/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 22 Apr 2010 23:58:56 +0300
Ukrainian men and women’s sartorial styles are all but boring. Concoctions of feathers, crystals and smoky eyes wander Kyiv streets and beyond in broad daylight. It’s hard to say what’s in fashion this season just by observing a particular age group on the street. Economic disparity, Soviet history and "where’s the party" type of outfits sadden, bewilder or freeze one in awe.

Just as LV girls jar with theater, older people often look at odds wearing Western shirts with inscriptions in English. My winner in the funny t-shirts category so far this year is a 50-year-old museum guide whose top said “Giving is half the fun.” She was clearly clueless about what it meant. The runner-up is an elderly man in a FCUK t-shirt feeding chickens in his yard. The army of New York Yankees fans in Ukraine is probably equal to the one in the U.S., judging by the number of baseball hats and sweatshirts with their logos.

These outfits often come from second-hand shops where prices are on par with the budgets of those living on Ukraine’s minimal wage or pensions (Hr 700). These shops would have been a luxury in Soviet times when clothes were in short supply, like much of anything else. The shortage gave a boost to a habit of hoarding, still haunting many Ukrainians to this day.



Two Ukrainian women are entering Khreschatyk metro station in the summer of 2009. The variety of styles, as well as relevance to time and place of certain fashion selections still leaves much to be desired.


The colors of the 1970s were brown and black. Any bright or unusual fabric enlivening the scene would have likely arrived through military families from abroad. It was a time of sew-it-yourself or surrender-to-an-army-of-identical-outfits kind of fashion. To buy a nice-fitting school uniform in the 1980s, for instance, one would look for an acquaintance traveling to Moscow to order one. Undercover fashion dealers with American jeans and shoes from Czechoslovakia thrived.

The first mass delivery of sleek gaudy leggings came in 1990s. It was a revolution. Then came jeans in different colors. Each time a new model arrived, people were sweeping them off the market stalls to have that unique, cool look. As a result, half the town would be dressed in the same model of trousers.

Engulfed by the colors, designs and fabrics these days, it seems that some Ukrainian people try to compensate for the clothing diet they had before. Cocktails of white shirts and black bras, Barbie doll dresses at black tie events, and those pointy-nose men’s shoes with work suits sometimes resemble a circus.

And yet, many Ukrainians take great care of their second skins by carefully ironing jeans and polishing shoes. Foreigners usually extoll Ukrainian women for retaining that feminine look by wearing dresses and heels any day, in any weather. Dress to impress is what a Ukrainian girl first thinks while opening her wardrobe in the morning. The street turns into catwalk for them. It would be nice to see less cleavage in the office, perked up by layers of make-up, but my point of view is clearly not in fashion judging by the number of low-cut shirts on the streets.

Men are far behind, though. I can’t get over the London tube scene where businessmen and bar tenders alike sport pink and white shirts underneath smart jackets. In Kyiv, black and grey apparel has rubbed on their faces as well.
The diversity of styles in the capital is as big as the range of incomes. You can see some people dressing up more luxuriously than in Paris, and some – perhaps more stylishly than in London. But others are dressed worse than they had in the Soviet Union.

Their looks reflect a legacy more weathered and aged than the oldest of LV bags. The tag line for modern Ukraine’s fashion would be “a journey of a thousand lives.”


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Suburban homes contrast with degrading museums south of Kyiv http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/63478/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 08 Apr 2010 23:47:08 +0300
This is just one of the incongruous sights en route to Trypillya village, the site of an ancient civilization which dates back before the Egyptian pyramids. Sadly, there are no temples to explore there. But Ukraine’s modern-day pharaohs give you plenty to look at on the way.

The tour starts on the Novoobukhivska trasa, a road leading south from Kyiv, where high metal fences guard government dachas and the closed communities of the rich and powerful. The pine trees have been thinned out here to make way for private roads, some of which are paved with dirty cash. Some had to sweat for the land, while others found an easy way. For those worrying their land will slip out of their fingers, the solution is right there on the highway. Huge billboards offer help legalizing land ownership rights, however illicitly the plot had been acquired.

These ads mix with others depicting luxury brands, yachts, diamonds and other fancies that are part of the lifestyle in the Ukrainian Hamptons, the Koncha Zaspa region on the Dnipro River.

The road is lined with outdoor restaurants featuring ponds, barbecues, fishing and horse riding. And then suddenly it all ends when you take the turn off for Trypillya. Rusty cranes and abandoned factories reveal a toothless picture of former Soviet industrial might. One coal mine seems to be still spewing out black rock, piles of which spill out onto the road. I am sure some stop to nab a bagful for a bonfire.

Just a little further a big hill bursts out of nowhere with a torn Ukrainian flag and a cross on top. Called Divych-gora, it’s the site of an ancient altar dating back to the 11th century. It’s the first welcome sign to Trypillya.

Spreading over the river, the village used to serve as a water gate to ancient Kyiv. Dinghies have replaced galleys since then, with local fishing enthusiasts gazing into water for a catch. Right on the water front lies a private museum with Trypillya excavations.

The state museum perched on the hill is a few minutes’ drive away. Occupying a former Museum of Komsomol Glory, built for the youth wing of the Communist Party, it has no windows to peek in. Inside, there are three modest halls with some pre-historic stones and arrowheads, as well as distinctive Trypillya pots.

Our guide points to a peculiarly shaped figurine on the wall with huge thighs and a thin chest, explaining that Trypillya people worshipped women. Such clay figurines have been unearthed in abundance.

The museum surroundings are just as unusual. It stands right next to an orphanage, a Soviet monument covered with smudged graffiti and a park overlooking the Dnipro.

Driving on to Rzhyshiv town, there is another Trypillya museum with large monuments – also looking rather lonely in early spring.

After a short trip to the Stone Age, you return a little closer to modern times in Ukrainka town, featuring an abundance of Soviet architecture. Populated with five-storey houses, its most striking features are roads worst than those in Kyiv and boarded-up shop windows.

The road back into the capital brings you right back up to the present golden age of wealthy suburban dwellers. It goes through another posh settlement still under development.

You can spot a lonely Porsche negotiating the potholes. Sometimes, Bentleys fly by.

The dreary, neglected suburbs outside Kyiv feel surreal when you are there. But the minute you hit the capital, you realize that they are characteristic of large parts of the country.

There’s little of Trypillya to see in Kyiv, but what matters is the story of this civilization. Our predecessors were famous for agriculture, as well as pottery. Developing land, they used it until the first signs of exhaustion.

Then, they would pack up and move on to new fields giving old plots time to breathe and recover.

This is a practice long lost with modern Ukrainians. They practically rape the land and dry out river beds to build hamlets, despite official and ecological bans on it. And if they ever have to move, they leave behind scorched earth.

It’s unclear how Trypillya culture disappeared. The settlers may have dissolved among other tribes. Hopefully, modern Ukrainians won’t go down in history that way. But maybe the neglected environs are an early warning.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: Outdoor drinking ban fails to solve problem http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/63011/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 01 Apr 2010 23:19:01 +0300
About 11,000 people have already been fined since the new outdoor drinking ban came into effect. That is a drop in the ocean compared to the number of people who drink outside.

In my view, this new ban is another tiny step towards a civilized society. But many of my fellow Ukrainians are angered by it. This is hardly surprising – many consider drinking anywhere they want as a basic freedom.

Anyone who has walked in the park across from Taras Shevchenko University on a Friday evening, especially during warm season, has probably seen lots of youngsters and students drink the night away. Many of them simply cannot afford spending long hours at a central bar. Beer and cigarettes from nearby kiosks are so much cheaper. For some, vodka with a range of plastic shot glasses is also needed.

Shevchenko Park is just one of many examples.

Prior to the ban, crowds of drinking kids could be seen all over Maidan Nezalezhnosti, as well as in the underground passage right under it, and all along the benches on Khreshchatyk. Kontraktova Square, where Kyiv-Mohyla Academy is located, is another hot spot.

But, of course, kids are not the only ones drinking. Adults lead by example, but tend to booze in quieter residential areas, often right in front of apartment buildings where they reside. They also often don’t manage to clean up after themselves.

For some, any time of the day is good for drinking. I have often seen people getting into buses in the morning with a beer in hand. What away to start a day! You think coffee’s bad? Think again.

Another side effect of unrestricted drinking is violence. The drunken hordes of gopniks (skinheads) wandering the streets are prone to hostility. They can get violent even when sober, but alcohol makes them 10 times as dangerous.

Possibly the most disgusting display of Ukraine’s drinking culture is the sight of those who have passed out on the ground or at bus stops. Before passing out, many of these people have no problem drinking in front little kids on the playground and then relieving themselves under a tree.

Certainly, there are polite, tidy and moderate drinkers. But the percentage of the “uncivilized” and “uncontrollable” ones will always be much higher.

Even before the most recent drinking ban, another new law was adopted in January. Finally beer and drinks with low alcohol content, the so-called “alco-pops,” were defined as alcoholic and therefore off-limits to those under 18 years of age. Those selling alcoholic drinks to minors can be fined Hr 6,800.

Supermarket cashiers usually try to obey the rules. But there are plenty of other ways for minors to get alcoholic drinks from small shops, kiosks and outdoor markets.

Alcohol is simply too available in Ukraine. Even with the increase in prices over the last few years, you can still buy decent beer or vodka cheaply, compared to many European countries.

But it’s not only about prices. You can easily and quickly buy a drink from one of the small kiosks scattered all over the city, especially abundant in residential areas. Specializing in alcohol and cigarettes, they are usually open late or even all night. These vendors care too much about income to stop selling alcohol to anyone who pays.

Police now frequently scan central streets for violators. However, there is a simple way to go around the drinking ban. Just put your bottle in a bag and you’re good to go, as many Kyivans do. Certainly, those drinking in the inner courtyards of their houses do not have much reason to fear that a police officer will wander by.

These outdoor parties can be stopped only if people realize that, if they consider themselves to be human beings, not pigs, they should act accordingly.


Kyiv Post lifestyle editor Alexandra Matoshko can be reached at matoshko@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Politics sullies 14th annual Person of the Year http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/62552/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 26 Mar 2010 00:09:13 +0200
The 14th ceremony was held traditionally in Kyiv’s elite concert hall, Palace Ukraina, on March 20. The trapezium-shaped mansion was built in 1970. Threadbare carpets cover marble floors that still remember Communist Party congresses. One flight of stairs, however, was dressed with a fine red carpet for celebrities and nominees to parade past photographers and onlookers. The invitations required evening dress code, but you would have a hard time finding a woman in a black dress with diamonds. The fashion was anything but dull – feathers, silks, and frills of any thinkable color and shape.

The question, however, was not what you look at but what you see, as Henry David Thoreau once put it. I was looking at a privileged clan in designer outfits, but saw a subway crowd with no class in their eyes - with some rare exceptions.

Like an airplane, the palace was divided into business and economy class lounges. Guests of the more refined breed had seats in the parterre. Students, journalists, and odd hangers-on had the balcony to themselves.

The first award went to boxing champion, Vasyl Lomachenko, who claimed the Olympic gold in Beijing at the tender age of 20. Then the audience greeted designers and entrepreneurs without much brouhaha.

Nonsensical awards started with The Mayor of the Year nomination. Mykhailo Dobkin who was in charge of Kharkiv until earlier this year collected the title. He is the very infamous mayor, whose recorded election speech was leaked on the Internet and generated millions of hits in 2006.

In that video, he doesn’t stop swearing and insulting the people of Kharkiv as he stumbles all over the script on an autocue. Had we lived in a Western nation, the mayor’s diatribe and insults would have generated a big scandal, and resignation would have been inevitable.

But here the story is very different indeed. Imagine Bill Clinton awarded by the feminist movement or any religious organization following the sex scandal in the Oval Office for personal integrity and high ethical standards.

Impossible, right? Not in Ukraine.

Dobkin presided over the city for five years and has recently been promoted to the post of governor of the Kharkiv Oblast. His aid, Hennadiy Kernes, succeeded Dobkin as mayor. In the video, Kernes is heard in the background swearing and telling Dobkin “to stop looking dull because no one would give him money.”

Another “non-political’’ award in the New Generation category went to 29-year-old Irina Berezhna, a parliamentarian from the Party of Regions. She beat two young artists, one of whom won the popular “Ukraine’s Got Talent” TV show for her unique sand art.

The Party of Regions also took The Patron of the Year award. Deputy Eduard Prutnik was singled out for his charity organization One World.

The Magazine of the Year award went to Glavred magazine, whose staff had been on strike for weeks for not getting paid. Its owner, billionaire Igor Kolomoisky, allegedly wanted to close it down. Hopefully the award will keep it afloat for a bit longer.

Some 800 judges are apparently responsible for making these selections. They come from the National Academy of Ukraine, 27 universities and institutes, and 14 ministries, among other places. But what made them choose Dobkin, Berezhna or Prutnik? These choices seem more hypocritical than professional.

The entertainment part, however, tried to remedy the sullied award ceremony. The audience warmly received Ukrainian pop and opera singers occasionally appearing on stage. Most nominees abused their “thank you” time slots making the show last well over five hours.

But keeping to schedule is more than one can expect from a quaint Ukrainian way of recognizing talent. Same goes for politics creeping onto every stage in this country.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Visitors get tacky welcome at Boryspil airport http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/62065/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 19 Mar 2010 00:06:10 +0200
She wasn’t advertising a phone sex service. She just embodied another badly-dressed campaign, which spoke less of the product and more of the country it was made in. Pity she was right there in the main international gateway to Ukraine, greeting thousands of passengers flying in and out.

In my earliest memory, Boryspil airport has marble floors, confusing hallways and white-robed cleaners. In 1998, there were also a few cats running around. This is a fond memory – much like of the kindergarten or school that may have looked shabby – but was bound to change.



The Boryspil airport welcomes up to 2,000 people per hour. Passengers, however, don't get a very beautiful welcome to Kyiv and Ukraine, as the airport remains one of the least appealing international airports in appearance and amenities. (UNIAN)


The walking pink ad has spurred me to reset my memory clock. I looked around Boryspil and was ashamed to admit that it has not changed for the better since I first saw it. Arrivals and departures halls are not clearly separated, and they are both too small for the armies of passengers pushing through. There is only one toilet before you go through passport control. It is downstairs, meaning that you have to drag your luggage with you if you are traveling alone. Escalators are yet to carve through this zone.

The same marble floors pave the way to the gates. The whole entrance looks like a chaotic flea market with occasional food stalls, a currency exchange and airline offices. The human element has certainly slimmed down since the mid-1990s and swapped grim uniforms with new dress. Manners and smiles are still too much to ask for. Waiting for the boarding announcement, I saw one flight attendant munching on sunflower seeds and another polishing fingernails in front of the waiting passengers.

At check-in, I find men stewards a lot more helpful but that’s perhaps due to the opposites’ attraction rule. Female staff often send me those haughty and ignorant vibes that one woman usually exchanges with another when they are in competition for a man. Yes, I am in competition in this line – but it’s for a better seat and nothing personal.

Once through, there is an escalator to the screening gates – the one and only, I believe. The next and last hurdle is a passport control in another small hall. But once you pass it, there is a small duty-free store stuffed with last season’s Gucci bags, two cafes and a Soviet mural on the wall. Electrical outlets are not obvious so don’t bother starting your laptop unless you have a full battery. Smoking zones are not clearly marked or separated.

Some two hours later and 1,400 kilometers away, we landed in Prague. The Czech Republic has a history similar to Ukraine’s. The Austro-Hungarian rule was followed by German occupation. The Red Army cleared the Nazis out and planted the Communist regime in right after World War II. Czechoslovakia peacefully dissolved into the Czech Republic and Slovakia in 1993 – two years after Ukraine divorced itself from the Soviet Union.

Prague’s Ruzyne airport has the same marble floors as Boryspil. Up to 2,000 passengers rush through them each hour to get to around 100 destinations worldwide. Both international terminals feel provincial compared to Amsterdam or London air hives and yet Prague can easily shame Boryspil.

In Prague airport, there is no confusion with signage, no lack of space. There are no taxi sharks trying to snatch you up for a higher fee. Apart from the usual vertical escalators, the horizontal ones help you get to the gates. There is no problem with the English language. And the only girl wearing a provocative mini-skirt was a passenger from the Ukrainian flight. Exiting through a sleeve was another poignant reminder that I would have to go on the bus once back in Kyiv.

It’s hard to quantify how many negative reports of Boryspil experiences I come across in person and online. Luggage theft, unhelpful personnel and dirty toilets top the long list of problems.

If it is any consolation, Moscow’s Sheremetyevo stands out as the more dated and crowded terminal.

Boryspil Airport’s website says they hope to expand and modernize its terminals by the time Ukraine co-hosts the Euro 2012 football championship along with neighboring Poland. I have reset my memory clock and hope they won’t spoil the second chance to make a first impression.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: Looking for decent health care in Ukraine http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/61539/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 11 Mar 2010 22:49:04 +0200
And when it comes to some serious cases – like having an operation or giving birth to a baby, it’s in our best interest to pay. Also, the price goes up if you’re visiting a clinic to which you’re not assigned by place of registration in Ukraine. A friend of mine who gave birth recently paid Hr 500 directly to her doctor, plus an Hr 700 formal donation to the hospital, since she wasn’t registered in the area where the hospital was located.

The positive side of the Ukrainian health care system is that you don’t need to have expensive insurance to get an ambulance or have a doctor come to your home, make a diagnosis and write a prescription or a sick-leave certificate. On the other hand, if you don’t prepay your medical treatment, you can’t demand quality service. Some doctors are simply incompetent, whether because they bought their way though medical university or another reason. But they still have their jobs because of experience or connections.

My mom recently had an unpleasant experience in a state polyclinic. She arrived with a broken little toe and left with a heavy cast that covered her whole foot and ran up to her knee! Moreover, the cast was sloppily done. The toe wasn’t even fixed and kept giving her pain. After dragging the cast around the house for a couple of days, unable to do go out and do her business, she went to another doctor on a friend’s recommendation. That physician was shocked at the “treatment” she received. He threw away the cast, and simply tied the little toe to the one next to it. Thus my mom could continue with her everyday life, only being forced to abandon her favorite high-heeled shoes for awhile. The moral is: Don’t go to just any doctor in Ukraine. Ask around.

But even if you do go to a recommended doctor, he or she may not have the necessary medicine, forcing a trip to the drugstore. Also, in many clinics and hospitals, the equipment is old and outdated. Private clinics in Kyiv are more likely to have the latest equipment. But here is the catch. There is a common, and not completely groundless, fear that every doctor in such a clinic will do his or her best to prescribe you as many procedures as possible, to keep milking you for money until you run dry. It’s also true that getting treatments from such clinics is way more expensive then slipping modest bribes to your common state-employed doctor. A single consultation of a regular therapist at such a place may cost you more than Hr 200, and it’s easy to imagine how much the more complex and serious things will run you there.

Naturally, the wolf is never as scary as it is painted and private clinics differ. My recent experience with one of those proved positive. This one is not widely advertised, but has a steady flow of clientele. It is also located on the block that is full of state medical institutions, which helps earn trust.

I went through an overall medical checkup there. It did cost me a small fortune, but it had its many benefits. First of all, they offered a program which allowed doing most of the checkups in one day. Second of all, everybody was exceptionally nice and doing what they could to make me feel comfortable. If you have been to some really depressing Ukrainian hospitals with moody and even rude doctors, you know how much of a difference attitude can make. And third, I have never seen so much fancy equipment since I saw the “House MD” TV series. This is already worth the price. Plus there are no lines, and doctors keep to the schedule. The specialists I saw appeared to be professionals and I trusted their diagnosis. As for the “milking” strategy – it did feel like they were prescribing extra checkups and procedures a bit too leisurely. On the other hand, they didn’t pressure me.

In the end, we’re left with few options. One is getting medical insurance, which is still an unpopular practice here. Another is finding a good doctor and sticking with him or her. Having family dentists is common among Ukrainians, but you also need to form relationships with the right people in other medical spheres, too. Finally, if you can afford a private clinic – go with it. If not, go with the regular. Just make sure you’re dealing with a person you can trust, until much-needed reforms are undertaken, such as: require most people to pay and making free care available only to the truly poor; modernize hospitals and employ doctors who like their jobs and do them well – and get reasonable salaries for it.


Kyiv Post Lifestyle editor Alexandra Matoshko can be reached at matoshko@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: A guide for men on how to celebrate Women's Day holiday http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/61021/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 04 Mar 2010 22:31:30 +0200 The holiday originated in the early 20th century to mark equality between women and men. When female German socialist leader Clara Zetkin tabled the idea of making it a special day, most countries decided not to observe it much. Most of Eastern Europe and Russia, however, adopted it as a perfect way to throw parties in honor of women once a year.

Those who have not experienced the 8th of March holiday yet, beware. Remember to stock up on flowers, token gifts and special words not just for your wife or girlfriend, but your accountant, doctor and tax official – if they happen to be female. Forget about the original message of equality because most women expect to be worshipped on this day.

So, here are a few tips how to get it right before the clocks strike midnight.

You can start with picking up socks you casually throw around when after coming home from work. Proceed with cleaning the place and watering flowers. If you don’t live with your girlfriend, then do it for your house maid and give her a week off. She will pay back by baking an apple pie for you the week after that.

On a more serious note, the least you can do is to buy flowers. You’ll see an army of men with bouquets embracing the ritual with all earnestness. If you forget about floral ammunition, you will lose the battle immediately, even before you can say anything.

You cannot buy just any flowers – they have to be of the right color. Avoid yellow – it symbolizes separation; skip red unless you are desperately in love; stray from synthetic green or purple if you want to be taken seriously. Also, remember giving an odd number of flowers on any occasion except funerals.


A wise man surveys the selection of flowers in advance of the Monday, March 8 Women’s Day celebration, still avidly observed in Ukraine even though its original meaning – equality between the sexes – has been lost. (UNIAN)


Chocolates are another staple in this country. Colors or numbers make no difference in this case, but sometimes the origin and price does.
Some Ukrainian women maybe touched if you order a street billboard with her photograph and name on it. I personally prefer a private “I like you,” but a lot of ladies would disagree with me. Expect an irrational amount of happiness in response to a gift of a mink coat or a posh bag.
For a wild reaction, try buying a car or a weekend getaway on the Maldives. Testing her feelings with no gift on this day is highly dangerous and not recommended.

Women of all ages are to be congratulated, because the holiday is about equality, right? The good news is that everyone gets an official day off.

For women in the civil service, officials throw parties with folk singers and paperback award certificates. In the private sector, women are allowed to leave work early on the eve of the holiday. In schools, boys round up girls in the assembly hall for a special concert.

Ukraine shares the holiday with Russia, Vietnam, China, Cuba and other communism-haunted states. The meaning of it, however, seems to rest in peace with hammers, sickles and Lenin in history graveyards – at least in this country. The first rays of sunshine after a long winter inflate expectations of green trees and cherry blossoms. The Women's Day, for its part, raises hope that it's just a foreplay to a year-long celebration of womanhood.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Charity is great, but no need for go-go girls on the program http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/60494/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 25 Feb 2010 23:49:57 +0200
The concept of volunteering by physically doing something other than eating or watching a show has so far escaped most Ukrainians. I think the habit of cleaning someone’s yard, playing with children in an orphanage or throwing a concert for the elderly should begin at the school level.

In my high school in Ukraine we had so-called earth days when we would get out as a class and pick up garbage around the school or from the Dnipro River beaches. It was an obligatory exercise, disliked by the majority of students, despite it being held once a year.

Attending school in the United States, I was also obliged to do some volunteering to pass my exchange year program. I decided I would help the elderly in a nursing home. The required 12 hours could have been stretched over a year, but after one month I became addicted. Each Saturday, I was there because I made friends with patients and nurses. They would give me their lifetime wisdom, and I would share my energy with them.

The next four years in a Ukrainian university no volunteering was expected or encouraged. I turned to the American Councils student body to put myself to use.

The best understanding and appreciation for charity came to me in the United Kingdom. In March, England would be turning yellow not just with the first daffodils but also daffodil pins on people’s jackets. A bright symbol of bloom would cost you a pound or as much as you wanted to donate and carry the nation’s spirit in the fight against cancer. Television presenters, waiters and managers would wear these pins, raising awareness and cash for cancer research.

When it wasn’t daffodils, it would be poppies in return for a donation to the Royal British Legion, honoring the men and women who risked their lives in service for the country. When it wasn’t poppies, it would be awareness wristbands: pink for breast cancer, red for AIDS, or ocean blue mixed with white to help those who suffered from the Hurricane Katrina in the U.S. Costing as little as $1, those trinkets create a feeling of unity among the bearers.


Go-go dancers are cheap substitutes for charitable acts. (Photo: Natalia Kravchuk)

There are more ways to do charity. A lot of my friends abroad have found ways to help others by stretching their physical limits. Running marathons, cycling, or rowing, they ask friends and friends of friends to support them by contributing to the charity of their choice. Others brought fundraising to a new extreme. In Australia, men grow beards during Movember (comes from moustache and November) to raise awareness of men’s health issues.

This is still a strange concept in Ukraine. When my college mate climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to donate money to a Ukrainian orphanage, it made evening news on Ukrainian television.

He got mixed responses. Some praised him for the adventure and the noble cause, while others thought it was self-promotion.

Well, not only posh dinners where you pay $175 can make you feel good. In my British university, we once had a task to come up with a charity event which would not only get us in the news bulletins, but also help to raise money. We decided to become homeless by spending one night on the street in winter. Squirming on the cardboard paper under the rain and snow, the six of us raised something close to 400 pounds and were interviewed by the BBC. But what’s more important is that a week later, someone who wished to stay anonymous contributed a few hundred thousand pounds to the same shelter we donated to.

So a big round of applause to all expatriates, foreign missions and clubs for all their charity work. They contribute enormously to raise the notion of kindness, voluntary support and human “give-not-take” attitude. They play with orphans and buy wheelchairs. They deserve a celebration in their honor. However, next time I would rather see kids dancing on stage and orphans fashioning the new clothes collection if it's going to be called it a charity event. We can all check out semi-clad women in the nightclub afterwards.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Check your calendar - today may be holiday http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/59335/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 11 Feb 2010 22:48:37 +0200
My critics would certainly bash me for a cynical view of events that celebrate hobbies or professions, improve team-building or remind us of history. And they would be right had some of these occasions not penetrated the Ukrainian psyche in a subservient way.

Let’s start with the Day of Knowledge, celebrated on Sept. 1 as children return to school. I am still thrilled to hear old school songs playing when students come back from their summer breaks. They all line up in their fresh uniforms waiting for a principal to deliver a speech. Two seniors parade a first-grader on their shoulders ringing the first bell inviting rookies to class.

Flowers are a special attribute, which is sweet when you acknowledge your favorite teacher. But already some 15 years ago, more than a bouquet of flowers was expected. Sept. 1 became a great occasion for some parents to buy something like an electric kettle for a certain teacher or a video recorder as a sign of respect. I am dreading to imagine what the standard is now.

The same unwritten rule applies to exam periods and graduation parties – another unofficial festive season. Bringing just flowers is bad taste, which may result in a bad mark.

Also, don’t forget about accountants, tax officers, bankers’ days – these are also great opportunities to make personal inroads in Ukraine to implicate that you care, even though you don’t.

Apart from these professional holidays – some dating back to the Soviet Union, others with young roots planted after Ukrainian independence – there is also a Western calendar to celebrate.

St. Valentine’s is one of a few of commercialized concoctions brought solely to inspire guilt so people will spend money. Let’s not forget I am talking about Ukraine. On this day, I don’t feel more love or appreciation than I already do for the person I am with. I was not born with this holiday, so it feels completely irrelevant to me. Students and teenagers with longer exposure to Western chick flicks take it more seriously and fuss about presents, dinners and other material projections of love. I would personally welcome attention unsolicited by Hallmark, a Western tradition or one secretary’s diary of her boss’ special dates … but that’s me.

I believe that Ivana Kupala, the ancient Slavic holiday celebrated on June 6, exudes a much stronger message of love, devotion and appreciation. Albeit a pagan day in honor of the god of the sun, Dazhbog, it celebrates youth, beauty, love and purification. Instead of encouraging Tiffany’s rings or candlelit dinners, it lures people to come close with nature.

All night long the bonfires are burning and people are leaping over the flames, cleansing themselves of bad luck. It is considered a good sign for their future if young people, while jumping over the fire, would keep their hands locked.

I find this type of a holiday a lot more romantic, binding and special because it does not require electric kettles or jewelry to honor it. Even flower arrangements take a special meaning on this holiday. Girls make a wreath of field flowers and float it on the water hoping it would reach that special person their heart longs for.

It’s unfortunate that some people, not just Ukrainians, turn holidays into politics and waste special occasions by networking or being fooled by marketing tricks.

But that, of course, depends on one’s life ambitions and values.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: No city guide magazine for Kyiv http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/59334/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 11 Feb 2010 22:39:52 +0200
Still, back when I started there in 2002, the year after Afisha opened, the magazine was a worthier publication. It provided useful information about movies, plays, exhibitions, restaurants and clubs. These articles came with great visuals and strikingly original covers.

At the same time, the magazine struck the tone of a mentor – telling you what you’re supposed to know, what’s to like and hate. If, while reading an article, you came across many terms, names and facts that told you nothing – and no explanation was offered -- you simply trailed behind all those cool guys. Still, plenty of readers appreciated being told what to think and to like. For them, the magazine was a city lifestyle bible. As an additional attraction, Afisha offered a discount card program that covered a vast number of establishments and services in Kyiv.
Also, a few years ago, Afisha expanded and started publishing several regional versions -- in Crimea, Zaporizhya, Kharkiv, Vinnytsya and Donetsk. And, of course, there were Afisha parties that were a “must” for all the pro night clubbers.

Officially, Afisha’s closing -- announced on Jan. 22 – was due to a loss in advertising. That segment worsened as the ban on advertising alcohol and tobacco in printed media took effect. While advertising problems can be easily explained, it’s harder to explain why Afisha simply got so bad long before it closed.

With its new awkward design and covers that previewed the release of the latest album of Britney Spears or the premiere of latest season of “Mad Men” TV show (I personally love it, but it’s not showing anywhere on Ukrainian TV), the magazine pretentiously started to act like Rolling Stone or a TV guide, rather than a city guide magazine. In the end, it felt like Afisha’s writers and editors were writing about their own interests, with little regard for what readers may want to see there.

I’m well aware that many loved Afisha for its kinky side, particularly for “The Naked Truth,” an advice column written by Eva Barto, who was actually a combination of different writers over the years. Eva’s role was to answer readers’ letters about sex and relationships. Since no other magazine in Kyiv publishes this type of verbal pornography, that readership is now up for grabs.

With Time Out Kyiv, it’s a completely different story. While it was a famous international brand, it was no match and no competitor for Afisha when Ukrainian Media Holding started publishing it in 2006. Yet, in a couple of years, Time Out improved and started doing a pretty good job. The personas of opinionated writers were not as dominant as in Afisha. Instead, Time Out chose more interesting stories. They covered a wide range of topics. They had nice columns and history-based pieces about Kyiv, interviews, tips and the usual sections about shopping, beauty, travel etc. The listings for movies, restaurants and clubs were extensive and well-structured, making them very easy to use. Simply put, I liked it as a reader, and was sad to see it go. The last issue of Time Out Kyiv came out on Dec. 23. Rest in peace.

This brings us to Top 10, the only city entertainment magazine we have left. And it can’t exactly fill the gap. It’s not even easy to find, even though it’s widely advertised. The magazine contains some features of the city guide, such as restaurant and film reviews, and previews of concerts and such. On the other hand, the magazine has a decidedly artsy bend. Both of its future projects are about art and Ukrainian literature. That it is all fine, but what it gives us is a pretentious glossy magazine for “intellectuals” – or at least that’s what it aspires to be. In a nation where the publishing market is still in chaos, and where the tastes of the majority of readers are not bohemian, we really need something much simpler and more user-friendly.

After all, despite the recession that “killed” Time Out and Afisha, the city culture and entertainment scene goes on living and developing. New movies come out every week, new exhibitions open and even new clubs and food joints keep popping up. So we need a publication to write about it all in a sharp catchy manner, highlighting what’s most important and giving a short mention to the rest. Smart design and fetching visuals help. And most of all we need a magazine that will help you learn new things, rather than make you feel stupid for not knowing something already.


Kyiv Post entertainment editor Alexandra Matoshko can be reached at matoshko@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Men complain quality women are becoming scarcer http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/58732/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 04 Feb 2010 22:58:54 +0200
If Aristotle lived nowadays and said his famous phrase that in all things of nature there is something of the marvelous, he would mean Ukrainian women, for sure. Whenever I ask an expatriate working in Kyiv why he came here, the first reason he gives is – women; and only then career development.

Of course, it’s a joke but it’s not funny anymore.

It seems that the breed of females under 30 has changed in Ukraine. They are no longer a universal package of feminine, pretty, caring, smart and family-oriented as dating agencies like to sell them. Most of them are either one thing or another. I often hear girlfriends complaining of being unable to find suitable dating material, but I was taken aback one Wednesday night when a smart, fun and good-looking New Yorker asked me where to meet a keeper (a woman for a serious relationship) in this town.

I thought quality women were everywhere, but it appears that beautiful timid violets have been replaced with wild orchids requiring special conditions to grow and a careful hand to water. In other words, Ukrainian females are easier to get compared to foreign women, but are so much trouble to establish a healthy relationship with later.

For the sake of clarity, I am writing about your general young professional Kyiv community males and women they tend to meet. The nature of their work and income often takes them to the most popular joints – bars or clubs, where it’s easy to pick all types of roses. For better or worse, they lose all their thorns while out and about.

And so on a typical night out, the New Yorker I mentioned before starts a conversation with who he thinks is the least underdressed of all suggestive-looking femmes. It’s going well, and he asks her out for a coffee the next day. They meet for what he plans to be a chat about Kyiv life, perhaps some current affairs and traveling stories. But it turns out she has her own, quite different agenda. His cappuccino bill can come up to $500 if he wanted to take her home immediately skipping the niceties.

Aghast with women in his playing field, the guy goes to the library to find someone who is not in the fast lane and wants more than a new fur coat or to eat in a posh restaurant. His chances there are definitely better but still not great, in my opinion.

To see my point just take a look at our student feminist movement – and they are nearly impossible to miss on the evening news! Even they choose to protest Ukraine becoming a sex destination by wallowing in mud or wearing white tank tops in the rain. With barely covered crotches and nipples, they walk Kyiv streets with slogans like “Ukraine is not a brothel.”

I think this type of PR only underscores what we know already – young women shed their clothes too easily, be it for a social cause or money. As one Ukrainian man put it, it’s a “general degradation of social norms and values in Ukraine.”

This very Ukrainian, a good-looking and foreign-educated professional, cannot find a keeper because women he tends to meet are either beta versions of alpha males focusing too much on their careers, or Ferraris speeding to a posh garage called a “give-it-all-husband.”

The first kind is stressing out about titles on her business cards, forgetting about being a woman. The second kind thinks that she needs clothes, jewelry, cars and other material accessories to complete her life puzzle. So his general portrait of a modern Ukrainian woman is that of a grown teenager overexposed to western ideals.

I am sure there is a girl with a healthy balance between the two, and she’s somewhere out there. She goes to charity events, concerts, art galleries and home parties of your good friends. Culturally, she is still different from her foreign peers.

As another expatriate put it, it’s a part of her DNA to buy clothes that men would like to see her wear – not because their girlfriends or fashionistas would approve. It’s like she is wired to be perpetually liked by men – not just her partner, but others too.

One of my Australian friends leaving Kyiv last summer told me about a cleaning lady who came in the morning to check him out of the apartment he rented. She was wearing a dress well enough for a dinner party.

Women working in multi-national companies – both pretty and smart – also go to night clubs, just like their male colleagues. However, the two fail to cross paths because humans tend to choose first what they need last in this type of environment. This is not to say that going to a club is a sin. However, unfortunately in Kyiv there are not that many options where you can strike a conversation above the waistline.

Abroad, lounges and restaurants throw professional evenings where both sexes can mingle and meet new people. In Ukraine, however, these establishments even fail to accommodate non-smokers, let alone create an environment for a smooth chat.

I guess choosing the right relationship is the subject that kept Adam and Eve busy – not just the Ukrainians and resident expats. But the point I wanted to make here is that men are also struggling with meeting the keeper-women in this country despite its rosy-glasses image of being a one stop shop for a great female partner.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reachedat popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Soviets left deficit of architectural beauty in design of ghastly apartments http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/57746/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 22 Jan 2010 00:06:37 +0200
Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev was the head foreman for millions of square meters of grey architecture. The building binge commenced in 1955 following Khrushchev’s order “About elimination of unnecessary extravagance in architecture.” If it sounds ugly now, this decree was music to people’s ears back then. The Second World War left the country in ruins, forcing millions to cram in sheds or communal flats with one kitchenette and toilet shared by five families.

Five-storied brick apartment blocks breathed a new life into millions of misplaced residents. Despite pokey layouts, they got balconies and their very own kitchens. The manic construction, however, was not enough to accommodate all. So the new invention was panel blocks you can still admire anywhere in the capital and everywhere in the regions.

In post-war time, these insulated boxes were the pride of the nation. Now they are a disgrace, but more on this later. Soviet films and cartoons were celebrating the construction boom with frequent scenes of trucks overloaded with furniture and happy families in them. They were always looking for a kitten to horde into the lorry. Then they would traditionally drag a fridge to the fifth floor without an elevator of their new abode – always laughing and making friends on the way up.

My favorite cartoon of all times is about a cute house spirit, brownie Kuzya. He was guarding the family that lived in a small cottage on the city’s outskirts before the cranes turned it into a big pile of dust. The family moved to what looked like a skyscraper to Kuzya – a nine-floor apartment building. Kuzya tagged along to continue providing good luck for his host family, despite the best effort of all sort of fairy tale characters trying to steal him back.

He was puzzled and dismayed by the garbage chute, the lift, and the fridge in his new home, but mostly by the whole idea of living away from the forest. Growing up in a 12 square meter flat myself, I frankly shared his feelings.

But eventually, Kuzya grew out of sync with his wooden hut and his lost furnace, and I grew weary of small living space and rugged, tasteless interiors. But there is no way in Kyiv to escape the horrendous, stuck-in-the-60’s designs, both in architecture and interiors.

Some lucky landlords of Baroque and Art Deco houses lining the central streets put to use the high ceilings, monumental columns and stucco moldings. They decorate old houses with modern cabinets and leather sofas, and rent the places out to the tenants who are happy to pay the price.

Others, however, still refuse to tear down the grimy wallpaper, get rid of carpets on the walls and replace moth-eaten couches. My friend’s landlord, who refuses to buy a new settee, argues that it’s better to have an ancient one because in 60 years of its existence, poisonous chemicals in the glue have evaporated.

To be fair, most older homeowners seem to think like that. They continue living in a sad cemetery of depressing clutter because children of war were taught not to throw anything away. During Soviet times, furniture shops had a range of five items which were the same across the USSR. That’s why TV shows remodeling real estate were impossible then. All apartments looked like clones of each other, and could not really be any other way.

In the living room, you were guaranteed to find a wall unit with plenty of shelves for books and clothes and glass cabinets to put china on display. It was not really china, rather nice-looking glass and ceramics back then. A sofa with two matching chairs stood across from the unit, with carpets on the wall and on the floor.

Wall rugs took off instantly in the USSR first as an extra insulation layer and then for decoration purposes. Nailed hard to the walls, they are still deeply rooted in the Ukrainian psyche. My mother still mourns the missing good old carpet on the wall, but with family opposition running high, she could only get away with sticking it on the wall of our summer cottage.

The economic policies in Soviet days led to a deficit of virtually anything from sausages in the shops to books on the shelves. And so, Ukrainians had to light up their imagination in order to decorate and personalize their homes. Plastic and glass bottles were used as vases; small castles were made of matches; and greeting cards cut and glued together worked as curtains.

I remember my auntie’s house, who was married to a Red Army general. It was treated as a dream home by the rest of the family. With plenty of magazines brought from abroad, she would cut out fancy colorful photographs and plaster them on tiles in the kitchen, in the bathroom, on the fridge, making everyone else jealous.

The iron curtain has been pulled down long ago, but if you walk around this city’s home stores, you will struggle to decorate your house with something modern and inexpensive. The IKEA furniture retailer has been trying to enter for years, but Ukraine’s special rules for foreign and local business still keep their furniture trucks out. However, you can have plenty of golden-draped thrones and fancy Italian cabinets to choose from, but that’s if you live in a chateau.

But it seems that many of the nouveau-riches find this type of pretentious, empire-style decor suitable even for their city apartments. But I’m sure their home spirits must disapprove.

PS – I like comparing my own house with a brain. Once in a while, you need to clean out the junk to make your life simpler.


Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Get in Line http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/55885/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 24 Dec 2009 21:52:50 +0200
In less than 30 years, Ukraine has swapped deficit for saturation. Lines are neither long, nor desperate. Yet some tend to cut in front of others, under the justification of age, gender or just plain impudence. Besides poor manners, this behavior may be related to the still-quivering memory of Soviet lines.

In the U.S.S.R. during the 1980s, government kept prices artificially low while paying relatively good salaries to workers. Shops and supermarkets had no incentive to compete for customers, which resulted in a buyers’ competition that emptied out shelves.

My father remembers the start of it all too well: It was the year I was born and Leonid Brezhnev, head of the Soviet state, died. Parents were worried that I would not have a children’s encyclopedia when the time came for me to read. So they rushed to a book shop to sign up for it. There were some 300 people there on the same mission. They were not physically lining up, but rather getting on a hand-written waiting list. Once a week, parents had to go to the shop to confirm their interest in the books If you failed to show up, your name would be crossed out.

At least five years passed before my dad was No. 1 on that list. The much-desired encyclopedia, however, was not in stock. So he had to take whatever was available. In this way, my family unintentionally got to know about life in America’s South through William Faulkner’s works.

As I was growing up, goods were getting scarcer. My classmate’s mother was in charge of a grocery, so all parents and teachers in my school tried to be friends with her, hoping to buy sausage for holidays without having to line up.

Shops were always packed with people ready to grab whatever was available: toilet paper or coffee. In this atmosphere of constant shortage, my grandparents decided to start assembling my dowry from infancy. Suitcases of crisp linen, towels and polka dot casseroles were procured after sleepless nights of queuing in front of shopping malls. Order was vital in this quest. If you were not on the list, you were out of luck.

There's not much order now. However, waiting in line to buy a Christmas gift, remember that 20 years ago, you would have to spend the whole night freezing outside just to put a smile on your child’s face. P.S.: Ukrainian folks who have no memories of Soviet queues could do with a little tip from the Brits: An Englishman, even if he is alone, forms an orderly queue of one.

Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: Pretty photos don’t help http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/55467/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 18 Dec 2009 17:06:05 +0200
My German friend didn’t notice it at all. But for me, it was such a contrast with the political propaganda that could be seen all around Kyiv at the same time. Ukrainian political posters could be weird, silly or even psychotic – anything but boring. And none of them looked the same.

What was true back in 2005 is truer now. I would say political campaign specialists and poster artists have come far since those times. Their methods of attracting potential voters’ attention have gotten more inventive and creative.

Plus, considering that the current presidential election campaign showcases mostly the same faces that have been haunting all of us for the last five years, it’s no surprise that each of them required a special promotion strategy this time. The visual interpretation of these strategies can be now seen all over the country.

The authors of those campaign posters have apparently reached a peak of their craft. It’s no longer politics. It’s show business. But if Ukrainians can figure out the meaning of all those numerous billboards, those with little knowledge of local politics, and even less knowledge of the Ukrainian language, may well find it all very confusing.

So, here is what it’s all about.

Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko, one of the frontrunners for president, is sending the clearest message in her posters: “I am a superstar!” She is indeed. The first of her new posters, done in black and red with a clean white background, began to appear months before the official launch of the presidential campaign. Hanging over the roads everywhere, the posters simply said: “They quarrel. She is working!” And so on.

It was obvious to all who “she” was meant to be, but the next collection of posters claimed that “she” was, in fact, Ukraine itself. So basically Ukraine is Tymoshenko, and Tymoshenko is Ukraine, and both of them are working without sleep or lunch.

Moreover, Yulia monopolized the usage of Ukrainian celebrities in her campaign this time. She got those who previously campaigned for President Victor Yushchenko, and those who used to side with ex-Prime Minister Victor Yanukovych. Now all of them – Potap & Nastya Kamenskikh pop duet, pop stars Taisia Povaliy, Tina Karol and Natalia Mogylevksa, hip-hoppers of Tanok na Maidani Kongo, rockers Vitaly Harchisyn and Andry Kuzmenko, plus many more musicians and actors urge us to vote for her.

Yanukovych kept up with his style of a down-to-earth fellow, who is concerned with personal troubles of each and every Ukrainian, and is willing to help. His slogan,“I’ll Hear Everyone,” runs together with a hotline number and website address where you can dump all of your worries. In a country where people prefer quick solutions, this appeal makes a lot of sense.

The re-election campaign of Yushchenko appears just as sad and desperate as the announcements he occasionally makes on TV, claiming that he will remain president without a doubt. The first wave of promotional posters showcased “common folk” saying: “I am for Yushchenko.” Next to Tymoshenko’s billboards with pop stars, this looked rather mundane. Moreover, it soon turned out that the “common folk” on the pictures were mostly staff members of the same PR company that was hired to do the posters. You could see the same faces on its official website. Certainly those guys didn’t overwork themselves, but perhaps they didn’t get enough money to do serious casting.

The latest Yushchenko posters show the man himself with the “We’ve Achieved” slogan and a description of what exactly was achieved – a reminder that he has actually done something while being president, in case we consider him completely useless.

Another candidate for president, Sergiy Tigipko, used to be a part of Yanukovych’s crowd. His appeal is straightforward – an attractive, professional-looking guy in a suit. Not the least important, he is more or less a fresh face in the race. Also, judging from Tigipko’s recent appearance on the cover of Men’s Health Ukraine magazine, he’s also the healthy type – a sharp contrast with our current head of state.

Verkhovna Rada speaker Volodymyr Lytvyn launched a really awkward campaign this year. His “The country needs Lytvyn” and “Only he can be trusted with our fate” mottos sound as weak and desperate as the ads for yet another pop singer who released “an album of the year” (which no one wants to buy). There is no answer as to why exactly we need Lytvyn and why I should leave my fate in his hands. On his posters, he looks extremely stern and severe. Does he think this is the way to make people take him seriously?

Another female candidate for president, Inna Bohoslovska, started her campaign with blurry black-and-white pictures showing her face-to-face with some people in the street. But soon she realized that being more ladylike pays off better. Her latest posters show her wearing a red jacket, a long braid and smiling. She looks exactly like a cover of a popular magazine for working women from the Soviet times.

Finally, last but not least, is a man whose poster campaign shocked and disgusted the majority of the population. When the first posters showcasing Arseniy Yastesniuk’s khaki-colored face, framed by black-and-khaki stripes, appeared around town, everyone’s reaction was the same: “What the hell is that?” Moreover, only his first name was indicated on the posters under the vague slogan: “To Save the Country.” Those posters generated many spoofs that were posted on various Internet sites.

But Yatseniuk was not to be intimidated. He went further and his next series of posters had more varied messages and colors. For instance the one saying: “Efficient Army” had Yatseniuk’s face painted red. Then we saw him in blue, again looking like a younger Henry Kissinger, saying: “Healthy, Educated People.”

At first, I had no idea what his Kissinger-style eyeglasses, or the color blue, had to do with being healthy. But the whole thing became clearer after I had a glance at an American comic book-based blockbuster, “Watchmen.” There was an all-blue character Dr. Manhattan, who bore a strong resemblance to Yatseniuk on that poster. Considering that Dr. Manhattan was the all-powerful creature, basically the main weapon of the U.S. against the Soviet Union, Arseniy had a point.

Finally the latest Yatseniuk posters have an enhanced photo of the man – again with his glasses sparkling – blotches of colorful paint on the khakhi-and-black stripes, alongside a very simple and direct motto: “Going to Battle Corruption.”

Clear and to the point, this latest poster is my favorite of all other posters in town. It’s just so pop-art and modern. Unfortunately though, this kind of image rather appeals to young anarchists and perhaps, the arty crowd, who will appreciate the creative effort. But it won’t be enough to bring him a decent number of votes.

In the end, no matter how original the poster is, it can hardly help generate trust for any of the candidates. On the other hand, if you don’t really trust any of them – like I don’t – why not vote for best poster?

Kyiv Post editor Alexandra Matoshko can be reached at matoshko@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Ukrainian patriotism http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/54827/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Fri, 11 Dec 2009 00:46:21 +0200
One of the truly Ukrainian features is that even if there are no tickets in the official ticket booths, you should still head to the station and look out either for dealers or speak directly to train conductors. They are usually a friendly bunch of people making not more than $200 a month and are therefore willing to accommodate anyone for some extra cash – provided they have space. Sometimes they are even prepared to share their own sleeping compartment with those who are willing to supplement their income.

Train attendants are the butt of many jokes in Ukraine. One of the gaudiest idols of Ukraine’s comedy, drag queen Verka Serdyuchka, is a cartoon-like derivative of a middle-aged female train conductor. Comedian Andriy Danylko created Serdyuchka’s character in the 1990s.

The character gained so much popularity in the last decade that she even represented Ukraine in the 2007 Eurovision song contest. Looking like a Kremlin tower with a star on her head dress, and boasting two balloon-like breasts, Serdyuchka attempted to win over the European audiences with her catchy song “Dancing.”

In the original stand-up comedy, Verka Serdyuchka continually battled with passengers who didn’t want to pay for linen and preferred to sleep on bare mattresses instead, making audiences cry with laughter. Other episodes featured such wonders of train travel as a male passenger whose smelly feet poisoned the air in the sleeper, or someone falling asleep on the rails after having too much to drink.

Serdyuchka eventually moved up in the world to become a Eurovision star, but the Ukrainian railway is yet to follow suit with some upgrades.

Traveling first class is not exactly the same as flying business class, but is still a very pleasant experience. You get a private compartment for two, and both beds are on the lower level. It’s called SV – an acronym for sleeping wagon. The bunks are already made up for you, and you can actually turn the lights on before the train starts moving – it’s not always the case in other types of carriages. In other carriages, you have to wait for the engine to start and illuminate your compartment. The same goes for air-conditioning. You will be sweating until the landscape outside your window starts to go blurry.

Don’t expect champagne or caviar unless you make a trip through half the train to find a restaurant car. But even there, you won’t be spoilt for choice.

Most Ukrainians take their own boiled potatoes in glass jars and meat cuts following the good old tradition of eating on trains. In the morning, you may even hear women peeling eggs and unwrapping cold chicken legs making everyone else envious.

If you are very hungry, there might be some potato chips and waffles, even beer, available to buy from your attendant, but the selection doesn’t improve with the class of the ticket.

Individual compartments with two bunks at the upper level and two at the bottom cost half of the SV price. They are very popular with middle-class travelers. So if you are not afraid of snoring neighbors, go for what we call a “kupe.”

The real train experience starts with making your own bed. The linen provided is sometimes damp. A few years ago, one had to pay for the sheets in the train; thus many people tried to save on this expense by taking their own linen on board, angering the conductors.

Washrooms and toilets deserve special mention. There are only two of them per carriage of all classes, which can cause great queues in the mornings. You can use them only when the trains are in motion but not because they are powered by the engine. Before each stop, conductors lock them up, so planning ahead is highly advised.

Some 20 minutes after the journey begins, you will be offered tea in special faceted glasses in metal holders. The tradition of drinking tea on board is as strong as bringing your own toilet paper because the latter often runs out.

The story goes that this type of glasses was invented for Peter the Great’s naval fleet. Facets were easier to hold on to in stormy weather. Another account mentions that famous sculptor Vera Mukhina came up with this design to meet the requirements of the very first Soviet dishwasher. Mukhina is known for her iconic sculpture of a worker and a peasant woman holding up a hammer and sickle, which symbolized the unity of Soviet people.

For a truly Soviet experience, get a ticket to a “platskart” carriage, which feels like one big dorm. The compartments have four beds on one side of the aisle, and two more on the other. There are also two more beds just under the ceiling, but they are meant for luggage. Some people, however, manage to convince conductors and squeeze themselves in place of suitcases when they are very desperate to catch a particular train. The compartments have no doors, and therefore no privacy from those who stroll along the aisle in the middle of the night.

I found train conductors to be a very flexible breed of people. Once a nice lady in a navy blue uniform – way shorter than Serdyuchka’s outfit – smiled her way into our four-person compartment. After a quick chat, she offered us a separate booth if we paid her an extra $10 per bed. She did it so casually and lightly that it was impossible to say no.

To be fair, some trains are in an exceptionally good condition, featuring things like power sockets for your phones and little light indicators to show the bathrooms are free. Toilet paper in them is also in constant supply.

PS: Don’t try opening windows on trains. Like everything else, they are glued and screwed to the walls because even with our trains’ record speed of 60 kilometers per hour – opening them is still considered dangerous.

Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Crime in progress? http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/54334/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 03 Dec 2009 23:22:24 +0200
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, father of the Sherlock Holmes masterpiece, once said that there is nothing more unaesthetic than a policeman in one of his novels. The author dubbed law enforcement as a rough crowd who are less sophisticated than private detectives.

If he were writing in present-day Ukraine, a lot of criminals in his stories would probably be our men in blue uniform. Unaesthetic in their case would sound like a compliment.

Here’s one example. It’s a Friday night and you have been out on the town enjoying the bars, the clubs, and the drinks. As you are crawling to another pub or just heading back to your hotel, you are stopped by a group of three officers who want to see your identification. If you have lived here long enough to speak Ukrainian or Russian, you would try and explain that the passport is a very dear thing to lose and that’s why you left it at home. If you don’t speak the language, you are still in as much trouble as someone who knows how to say “izvinite, passport doma” (sorry, my passport’s at home).

What happens next? You can attemping them to your home or you can pay a bribe. The worst-case scenario is that they drive you in a 20th century Zhiguli to a police station because you spent your last fiver on B52. Fortunately, none of my friends has gone through this. They usually settled for an average fine of Hr 100 and left with a story to tell in the next pub.

I am frankly fed up with these stories happening every weekend to foreigners in Kyiv, Odesa, etc.

To stay on the safe side, foreign embassies in Ukraine advise their citizens to carry original ID documents with them at all times. A Kyiv police spokesperson, however, confirmed that a copy of your passport, your visa and your immigration card is enough.

Consider another scenario. In the dead of the night, noise is coming from your neighbors upstairs and it has nothing to do with a party. It happened to me a few weeks ago, when I heard chairs getting smashed against the walls, a woman crying, and a man swearing while throwing things around. I called the police to report domestic violence. When they arrived, the suspects didn’t open the door to them and just said that everything was cool. The cops, instead of breaking in to stop a reported crime in progress, decided to interrogate me in case I was having fun with them at 1 a.m.

That was the end of it, or so I thought. A few days later, a neighbor from upstairs came down “to look into my eyes,” as he put it, for calling the police. As it turned out, the cops called him to the station the next day and revealed my identity to him, which clearly put me in danger, but who cares, right?

Another typically Ukrainian reaction came from my family, who said it was a mistake to call police, because they will only make things worse. They could have been right, but I refuse to follow this logic.

What startles me is that some 20 years ago, my parents had a complete different attitude. They made me admire cartoons and books about a character called Uncle Stepa. He was a sophisticated policeman the height of a lamppost with a Greek nose and a high forehead. Uncle Stepa was always around to save a babushka from an ice floe or chase the muggers.

As I was growing up, police officers gained weight, shrank in height and were unavailable when needed. So, going back to my quick poll, Uncle Stepa is now someone with little brains lurking in the bush and preying on the insides of your wallet.

Lack of reforms, paltry salaries, low prestige and bad leadership – they all add up to a collective image of Ukraine’s police force as bordering on criminal.

Sadly, our top cops seem to endorse the image by their own behavior. I can’t get over the story when Ukraine’s Minister of Internal Affairs caused havoc in Frankfurt airport after allegedly going heavy on the booze. He was changing his versions of the incident like a teenager struggling to make up a better lie. By the way, the minister didn’t bother to resign, nor did the parliament get their act together to fire him.

Then, there was an amazing incident when a police general stuck the middle finger out at another driver trying to overtake him on the road. Famously, the speaker of parliament was in that other car. He didn’t think it was funny and chastised the cop by blowing the story all over the news.

Conan Doyle would have probably struggled looking for dignified sophistication in this day and age. The cure to the problem, however, is not that difficult to find. Look at nearby Georgia, where police officers smile and actually help because their salaries are large enough to refuse hand-tipping. Put enough speed cameras on the road to prevent one-on-one interaction with reckless and rich drivers.

Also, perhaps give them some vitamins to restore that Uncle Stepa’s physique.

PS: If I am asking too much, at least make Hollywood films about good cops compulsory in police academies. Even if they are superficial, at least the concept of honor comes across the big screen.

Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]> City Life with Alexandra Matoshko: Kinopanorama reopens doors http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/53704/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 26 Nov 2009 22:16:30 +0200
The case is simply this: The Jewish group, which unsuccessfully claimed rights to the Kinopanorama building back in 2002, has chosen to challenge the 2008 privatization of the building. In its claims, Jewish representatives of the group claimed that law and history are on their side.

The building on 19 Shota Rustaveli Street in Kyiv was constructed in 1899 by Jewish sugar magnate Lev Brodsky, who kindly allowed Jews to use one of the rooms in his house for prayer.

However, after Ukraine fell under Soviet rule, the building, variously, housed a gym and printing house until it was reconstructed into a movie theater in 1957.

As a result, only one of the walls of the original building remained untouched, which means it can be hardly considered the same building – much less a synagogue.

Due to the appeal of Kyiv's Jewish community, an economic court is currently hearing two cases: whether to revise the results of privatization and whether to recognize the building as a religious sanctuary. The building has remained under court seizure since September, which means the new owners cannot do any of the badly needed renovation of the theater.

The plans of new Kinopanorama owner (and Kyiv Post publisher) Mohammad Zahoor and his ISTIL Group remain the same: They want to turn the building into a modern IMAX multiplex, showing 2D and 3D movies, while retaining its landmark spirit. After all, Kinopanorama was the first panoramic cinema to open in the former Soviet Union, and its authentic historic atmosphere always was one of its special features.

To anyone visiting Kinopanorama in recent years, including myself, it was quite evident that it lacked investment.

The rigid seats in the cinema hall and cashiers with no computers, only sheets of paper to mark seating, contrasted greatly with all the modern movie theaters that popped up everywhere else.

But, unfortunately, most of those very modern cinema complexes also mainly offer a bland selection of blockbusters and silly American and Russian comedies, promoting only mainstream tastes. Kinopanorama stood apart. It selected a higher standard of films, often showing them in the original language, and thus attracting viewers with exceptional taste.

The new owners promised to keep the features that make Kinopanorama special, but to also improve them, certainly good news both for its administration and theater fans. But so far, those plans are put on hold.

In the meantime, both the ISTIL Group and Kinopanorama’s dedicated staff are not giving up easily. As they continue the battle in court, the theater was put back into operation, as it is. The only thing they had time to change before the court seizure took place was to replace the seats in the main hall and make improvements to the cafe.

The website www.kinopanorama.com.ua is working again. The movie theater is currently featuring “New York, I Love You” and the award-winning French film “Un Prophet” (Prophet), so it looks like screening quality films will remain a priority for Kinopanorama. The tradition of displaying works of Ukrainian artists in the cinema lobby is back too. Currently, the paintings of Yury Nikitin adorn the lobby walls.

As a fan of quality films and watching them on a big screen in the comfortable setting of a cinema, I certainly hope that Kinopanorama will grow and improve as planned. And I also hope that when IMAX and other ultra modern innovations are introduced in it, the theater will still keep its face and fit in well with the historical city center landscape.

In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on its film program. It’s about time to pay the newly opened Kinopanorama yet another visit.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Ukrainians, Russians - why all the fights? http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/53693/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 26 Nov 2009 21:55:33 +0200
I guess it all started with the cream of wheat. It’s a kind of porridge that mothers from Siberia to Carpathians force feed their toddlers until they get sick. If you don’t stir it well enough on the burner, some grains will stick into lumps that most children remember as culinary torture for the rest of their lives.

Then, we have developed a strong bond through fairytales. Most popular ones inform us of a rather silly character, the ubiquitous lad Ivan, who somehow gets lucky either by catching a fire bird or marrying a frog, which then turns into the most beautiful lady on earth.

That’s why many Russians and Ukrainians put a huge portion of faith into their politicians and just sit and wait until the elected few fix the world for them. But somehow, through the years, these reptiles in disguise have only managed to conjure up palaces for themselves at the cost of everyone else.

Politics, as you may know, pulls our nations apart all the time. The Kremlin brainwashes their people that Ukrainians are black sheep in the Russian fold and need to be brought back to the herd.

Ukrainian big hitters strike back by hanging European Union flags across the capital, confusing foreigners and Ukrainians alike. For those still wondering: No, Ukraine is not a part of the EU. It’s a tactic to anger Russians.

The result of this scuffle affects the people greatly. Living in Moscow, I noticed that people there behave as if they were all in the Ivy League, and we are still at the crossroads in Zhmerynka (this town is a subject of many quips in Ukraine – it’s in the middle of nowhere, yet it serves as a popular railway hub for travelers).

This attitude has a historical flavor when the Russian empire was bullying, tearing up and conquering Ukraine. So, despite Ukraine finally clutching its independence, we are still insecure about our history and our place in the world.

That’s why I find Ukrainians indecisive and less confident than Russians. We try to cling closer to the West for second-hand access to an identity we consider better than Russian and end up nowhere again.

We take similarities between our two nations for granted and tend to blow up differences to ridiculous proportions. Looking at the very basics though, we write in Cyrillic, watch co-produced soap operas and drink warm milk to soothe the throat when the rest of the world is sipping cold fluids to cool it down.

I am sure many readers would disagree. In fact, a week ago I sketched a whole different story in my head after a bad flight experience in Moscow. Aeroflot treated passengers, not just Ukrainians, with so much disdain and arrogance. It was inexplicable.

I am sure we all went through Russian fits of self-importance and disrespect. Some of you may have found Ukrainians rude and of little help. These stories circulate eight times more than any good ones. And that’s where we go wrong.

Let me reverse the trend and infuse a nice narrative for a change. I met a Slavic community in Vietnam that awed me more than evil airport staff or people slamming doors in my face in Moscow metro.

Working at oil platforms in the South China Sea, they came from Russia and Ukraine. They live in Soviet-built apartment houses and have their own cuisine and restaurants. They smile more than Vietnamese kids. They don’t care about their nationality and are not bothered by the story whether the Ukrainian president was poisoned by Russians or not.

It could be the tropical weather that melted them down. It could be a better quality of life. It could be a nine-hour flight distance from what they still call home.

But this is where I could sift through all the clutter and see more similarities in the Slavic nature.

P.S.: Kyiv and Moscow don’t provide good representative samples of their people; they stretch stereotypes.

Kyiv Post staff writer Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@yahoo.com.]]> Inside Out with Yuliya Popova: Twelve hours in a Soviet spa http://www.kyivpost.com/news/guide/citylife/detail/53241/ Inside Out with Yuliya Popova Thu, 19 Nov 2009 22:02:38 +0200 Author’s note: Inside Out is a column to help you sift through Ukraine’s cultural peculiarities, dip into the arcane Slavic soul and basically keep you out of trouble.]]>
E-mail me if you don’t understand why Ukrainian women jump the lines all the time or why you are required to wear old-fashioned slippers over your shoes in the museums.

Don’t e-mail me if you are looking for a mail-order bride and want to ask me if she’s real. Chances are she’s taking you for a ride. If you want to get a life and a wife, invest into Ukraine, open a business here, read the Kyiv Post, or otherwise work on the demography elsewhere.

How do I know the answers: I was born and bred in Ukraine, but then crossed a few oceans trying to get under the skin of the United States, United Kingdom and Australia. I came back to tell you the story.

Twelve hours in a Soviet spa

If travel agents ever try to sell you a trip to a sanatorium, which they describe as a Ukrainian spa-hotel, don’t give in. The difference between the two is measured in eras.

Sanatoriums, or rehabilitation centers for people with long-time illnesses, are still clad with old-fashioned spa facilities and staff attitudes from the Soviet Union. They are stressful.

Spa-hotels, on the other hand, are designed to make you feel three kilos lighter, be it through body or mind pampering.

My weekend trip to a Soviet spa in Uman, a town between Kyiv and Odessa, revealed the whole old world to me.

In the golden-leaved forest beckoning for log cottages and mineral water pools, we have stepped into the hulks of a sanatorium for people with joint ailments and blood circulation problems.

My friend, who booked the trip hoping for a Ritz experience, was unintentionally acquiring a fine education into the Soviet past.

“I need your passport,” said a receptionist. Noting my friend’s baffled expression, I quickly pulled mine out to pen in the required information. Back in the U.S.S.R., they wouldn’t allow a customer in without a document. For various security reasons, administration even kept all guests’ passports until check-out. Luckily, she let go of my passport after a quick scan.

“In order to get a massage, you first have to see a doctor,” continued the receptionist. It was hard to derail her since this was a procedure set in stone with no way around it.

She proceeded giving us food vouchers for dinner and breakfast, which were included in the price of the room. A request for room service fell on deaf ears.

Undiscouraged, I was checking out our abode for the weekend. A number of four-story buildings erected in 1988 didn’t look old, but I felt caught in a time warp.

It was definitely more a hospital than a spa. Staff wore green medical robes and anywhere we went, it smelled of medicine. We rushed quickly past people in track suits, who looked quite happy in this Soviet workers’ paradise. Without a doubt they were.

Ukraine has always been cherishing its arsenal of Soviet-style sanatoriums popular both among regular folk and party leaders. In the 1920s, Lenin ordered construction of dozens of grand health spas. In the Crimea, century-old Tatar palaces became accessible for soldiers and factory workers for treatment of a range of illnesses. Josef Stalin preferred Sochi health nooks. Many Ukrainian parliamentarians until this day secure discounted trips to coveted sanatoriums to keep away from the public eye.

Keeping all this in mind, I hoped that our room described as Turkish in a leaflet would at least feature some modern amenities. Sadly, the only thing Turkish there was wallpaper with a photograph of the Blue Mosque.

The suite of at least 200 square meters in size reminded a stadium– huge and empty. I felt like a spectator who missed the show. Very little furniture in all that space made for a good echo, if nothing else. Sadly, it was one of the best rooms in the whole complex and priced as much as a standard room in the Hyatt in Kyiv.

In late afternoon, we decided to check treatment amenities, but since we failed to see a doctor on time, there was not a masseuse anywhere to be found. A dark massage parlor with five beds separated by greasy-looking curtains left a lasting impression on me.

“Come back in the morning to see a doctor and then, you’ll get all treatments,” said the same receptionist. Somehow, I didn’t feel like a massage any more.

With the same feeling of inevitability, we headed for dinner. It was exactly the same for all guests, served between 7 p.m. and 8 p.m. and not a minute later. I made a joke that it would be a dish of barley as that’s what I remember being served in pioneer camps in the 1990s. It’s one of the cheapest kinds of porridge, which fishermen use as bait these days and farmers give to poultry.

Apparently the menu hasn’t been refreshed since then as it was barley on some hundred people’s plates that night. Ordering from a-la-carte was impossible because all the cooks were hired for the wedding next door. And so we were stuck with our barley and kefir – a fermented milk drink, instead of wine.

Our adventure through a Soviet world in pine woods reached a pinnacle when we asked for a fireplace to be lit in our room. “But it’s not winter yet,” a nurse objected. She was right: it was the end of October, which is almost summer in Australia, but unfortunately seriously damp and dark autumn in Ukraine.

Finally, they lit the fire but forgot to open the chimney, so our Turkish stadium was full of smoke, forcing us out before suffocating.

Bursting with laughter, we checked out from this soviet version of Ritz and left without sampling another fish food for breakfast.

To be fair, sanatorium workers tried to help by offering another room (the size of a closet this time) and arranging for a doctor in the morning. The problem was that we acted as Romans in Uman, expecting it to be Rome. But staff and Ukrainians on their health break in the sanatorium seemed quite happy to follow the old ways they grew accustomed to.

Soviet attributes, of course, can be a part of charm if you are on an escapade or the one thing that keeps it from being a truly relaxing place to spend a few days. Discover Soviet history in sanatoriums and look for modern comfort in spa-hotels.

PS: Apart from a history lesson, we also got a full refund.

Yuliya Popova can be reached at popova@kyivpost.com]]>