These scattered transmissions from inside the hideout of Ukraine's demographic group comprised of the wave of youth which the fall of communism sparked off have been a bit scattered in the последные days, as the most reliable of these internet cafes ridden with post-communist youth washing away the social and political troubles with video games is in the centre of Kiev. Some techno.electro washing over the broken Russian and Ukrainian and the best direction apart from beer, which is a social faux paus to not walk the streets without in your posession, is probably one of the most inspirational locations to reside in for attempts to carry across the struggling identity which is Україна.
The disillusionment is everywhere, and all you have to do is order anything from Мистер-снак or any sort of кафе to any range of the word to get a full view of the resonance. Service with a kick in the face and some vulgarities is the highest sort of interaction in most places, which on the other end of things has increased some of my understanding of the rough colloquialities. Although the harsh treatment when ordering a beer or a Кок is smooth to translate when you view any instance of the other ends of interaction with waitresses or anyone else, initiating with shouting девушка!, interchangeable for girl, female, girlfriend, or server in the culture. The sort of unbelieving looks are great to recieve after you drop a thanks or спасибо after anything, that is if you drop it after they try to scratch increased grivna out of you if the US accent slips into Russian. Eastern European personal interaction doesn't swing from sides of the range, it just fucking is or is the negation of that. While the blankness in faces and unexpected dives into full scale arms races and open conflict over the 20 kopecki that you don't have to make even change for a пирожок are inherently an excpected element with Ukrainians, the full scale sexual escapades between a Ukrainian couple on the steep descent to the metro are another side of peoples. It almost seems that in Ukraine there is an inherent inner divide which is never merged or bridged, which causes conflict and is openly recognized and taken into the unconscious internalized display which is culture, and at the same time functions and unites the population. Individuals selling bunches of flowers to the bubbling couples in passing, decrepit and worn already in contrast to the vivid colours representing a fresh view and furthering of life, leaning against the side of a building with a Mercedes parked on the sidewalk before it. Divide and unity in the distant relation. Fucking brilliant.
So the last week has actually been a bit farther from complete concentration on cultural assimilation, and пиво with increasing occurences of водка have been closer to the actuality. Hit up a place называется Art Club 44 a few days past, fucking excellent times and fucking extended hangover! The place has live music every night from a few bands, the stage is directly across from the bar and there is almost a metre space between the two, all in the dark understructure and arching brick columns under a building around the centre of Kiev. The place is usually filled so we laid down a reservation which also included paying an 80 grivna tab in advance and 30 at the door for the bands in the smoky abyss. Bogdan came around for the night and furthered the Ukrainian drinking experience by fucking miles. The take on a bottle of chilled bottle was 50 grivna, and after that was dispersed into the previous sobriety of 4 люди in the depths of Ukrainian nightlife another two half bottles and a few вольшое пиво followed for the trip around. Felt that one the next day. So followed it with another night, not as rampant but taking in the Ukrainian strategy of if you are hurting from something the night before, fight it with the same thing the next day. We landed out at a great terrace at a pub close to the opera house and Театральна станция and the sounds of Day of Kiev echoing around a few blocks fromt he centre. Started off on some Ukrainian vodka with honey and pepper in it, hardcore fucking vodka! Few Murphy's and a shot or so past that and everything was in its right place. After a few other events and the dispersement and lack in returning of some parts of the group I ended out dropping 100 grivna between myself and Andy to take a round trip cab ride, on that if you want a good fucking time try getting to a random apartment you are staying at from downtown Kiev with limited ability at directions and a пьяный друг and then the return!, and then getting myself into a club to try to find some other people in the group and after no return on that attempt walking from the centre to the apartments with no grivna for another cab! One street in the centre we found a map of Kiev and the prospect of our location as off the edge of the map.
Into the rains Киева.
23 May 2006
So in Russian, Yes in Ukrainian. Interchangabilitishnessity?
Ой.
The randomness of randominity around the streets of Kiev have been great, if you ever come around the city just dropping around random corners will take you to better places than most tour guides. Top off with a few beers from the Оболонь tents or the kiosks everywhere and you'll get some thrills, I'll fucking tell you that. It can be anywhere on the range on high end to sketch in any place with no transition, and the sketch end is usually more Ukrainian конце концов. Not sketch like in the states or like a stroll around Cedar, just ethnic. There are parks everywhere and some towering, fading monument overarching the scene, always scattered with people everywhere. The city is compacted into itself, when you finally crest hills that you had no idea you were climbing and the Dniepr opens itself up in front of you with nuclear cones and straight highways packed miles into the distance you sort of grasp the concentration to a point. 8 something million, if I translated the broken Russian anywhere close to the meant significance, and all folded into itself. The skyline is empty into the distance. One outcropping a bit away with the Soviet housing raising its fist to the West, which one Ukrainian actually told me is still an isolated part of Kiev. The metro shows it, always packed with a solid mixture of demography from the Kievan population, all the time. The last Soviet era train lets out at exactly midnight, and even without rushes from work to flats people are still shoving themselves into the spaces that aren't really there but which you still provide.
Tomorrow is the first club night, sort of stoked for that. I'll look fucking gorgeous tomorrow. Everyone should come and see how good I will look. There is a bar right across the residential street from where most of us live and a store next to that which sells bottles for a few grivna, will hit that up before the экскурсия into multitudes of incredibly dressed and heeled up девушки. Off of some extended I'm-going-to-take-you-and-give-you-all-of-the-Minnesota-accented-Russian-that-you-could-handle-in-a-Ukrainian-flat-without-all-of-that-одежды-that-you-are-wearing-now looks with a few passing Ukrainian girls, there's been nothing yet of extended mingling with them. Наверно, у меня ещё нет жени или девушки здесь.
Пора мне to lock down a pint of something and work through some hundred pages on some of the tsars for this presentation I'm carrying off tomorrow. The usual night in Ukraine. Всё равно.
Так.
The randomness of randominity around the streets of Kiev have been great, if you ever come around the city just dropping around random corners will take you to better places than most tour guides. Top off with a few beers from the Оболонь tents or the kiosks everywhere and you'll get some thrills, I'll fucking tell you that. It can be anywhere on the range on high end to sketch in any place with no transition, and the sketch end is usually more Ukrainian конце концов. Not sketch like in the states or like a stroll around Cedar, just ethnic. There are parks everywhere and some towering, fading monument overarching the scene, always scattered with people everywhere. The city is compacted into itself, when you finally crest hills that you had no idea you were climbing and the Dniepr opens itself up in front of you with nuclear cones and straight highways packed miles into the distance you sort of grasp the concentration to a point. 8 something million, if I translated the broken Russian anywhere close to the meant significance, and all folded into itself. The skyline is empty into the distance. One outcropping a bit away with the Soviet housing raising its fist to the West, which one Ukrainian actually told me is still an isolated part of Kiev. The metro shows it, always packed with a solid mixture of demography from the Kievan population, all the time. The last Soviet era train lets out at exactly midnight, and even without rushes from work to flats people are still shoving themselves into the spaces that aren't really there but which you still provide.
Tomorrow is the first club night, sort of stoked for that. I'll look fucking gorgeous tomorrow. Everyone should come and see how good I will look. There is a bar right across the residential street from where most of us live and a store next to that which sells bottles for a few grivna, will hit that up before the экскурсия into multitudes of incredibly dressed and heeled up девушки. Off of some extended I'm-going-to-take-you-and-give-you-all-of-the-Minnesota-accented-Russian-that-you-could-handle-in-a-Ukrainian-flat-without-all-of-that-одежды-that-you-are-wearing-now looks with a few passing Ukrainian girls, there's been nothing yet of extended mingling with them. Наверно, у меня ещё нет жени или девушки здесь.
Пора мне to lock down a pint of something and work through some hundred pages on some of the tsars for this presentation I'm carrying off tomorrow. The usual night in Ukraine. Всё равно.
Так.
21 May 2006
Water, and the search for an absence of carbonation in life.
Утро и я ещё не принимал дущ, что это!
Brilliant time last night, brilliant! This trip covers two days where instead of 3 million people walking around the streets of Kiev at a time there are around all 8 million. Вчера was the Day of Europe in downtown Kiev, they set up this massive stage and played the Kiev anthem and Europe anthem and had all of these country Kiosks of Europe down Хрещатік street, the main street through the центр. One of the host brothers in the families is a great guy named Bogdan and he took a selection of us around parts of Kiev that we hadn't seen with a few beers as it's totally savvy to do that in these parts. Bogdan is a brain surgeon. At 23. I talked to him a bit on that, he started training at 16 for it. Bribes are inherent in the medical field, as he makes only 100 or so USD a month from the government, so people pay him a sort of bribe-tip after an operation.
After a fucking marathon roll around the center had some time at the Russian-Ukrainian frienship arch, really sweet Soviet arch that is high up and the view stretches out over the Dniepr and the hills in Kiev, and surrounded by some post-Soviet kids hackysacking, techno, beer, and rides. If I find any wireless in Kiev I'll drop some pictures. Hit up this bar close to the center in a great area, that you drop into this alley really fast off of the designer name submersed population of the street. There is an unmarked door and you drop down some stairs to the lower level, all brick pillars and walls under one of the buildings and fucking filled with smoke. You'd have to rise about 2 miles from Kiev to take yourself out of the smoke anyways, so this just pooled under this building. Took down my first Ukrainian vodka shots, huzzah!, and some raw fish right after it. Bogdan was talking a bit about the Slavic drinking style, chase it with food, which is a great idea and the consistency of the vodka is already comparable to Gray Goose so it is a smooth fucking experience.
One part of the night around the parks Bogdan dropped his bottle on a sidewalk to leave it, not in a trash anywhere. He came up for it though, he said it is actually better to leave around beause the poorer old Ukrainians can pick them up and cash them in for something. So most people follow around in this, and it is something close to truth, as the streets are usually the cleanest.
Пока.
Brilliant time last night, brilliant! This trip covers two days where instead of 3 million people walking around the streets of Kiev at a time there are around all 8 million. Вчера was the Day of Europe in downtown Kiev, they set up this massive stage and played the Kiev anthem and Europe anthem and had all of these country Kiosks of Europe down Хрещатік street, the main street through the центр. One of the host brothers in the families is a great guy named Bogdan and he took a selection of us around parts of Kiev that we hadn't seen with a few beers as it's totally savvy to do that in these parts. Bogdan is a brain surgeon. At 23. I talked to him a bit on that, he started training at 16 for it. Bribes are inherent in the medical field, as he makes only 100 or so USD a month from the government, so people pay him a sort of bribe-tip after an operation.
After a fucking marathon roll around the center had some time at the Russian-Ukrainian frienship arch, really sweet Soviet arch that is high up and the view stretches out over the Dniepr and the hills in Kiev, and surrounded by some post-Soviet kids hackysacking, techno, beer, and rides. If I find any wireless in Kiev I'll drop some pictures. Hit up this bar close to the center in a great area, that you drop into this alley really fast off of the designer name submersed population of the street. There is an unmarked door and you drop down some stairs to the lower level, all brick pillars and walls under one of the buildings and fucking filled with smoke. You'd have to rise about 2 miles from Kiev to take yourself out of the smoke anyways, so this just pooled under this building. Took down my first Ukrainian vodka shots, huzzah!, and some raw fish right after it. Bogdan was talking a bit about the Slavic drinking style, chase it with food, which is a great idea and the consistency of the vodka is already comparable to Gray Goose so it is a smooth fucking experience.
One part of the night around the parks Bogdan dropped his bottle on a sidewalk to leave it, not in a trash anywhere. He came up for it though, he said it is actually better to leave around beause the poorer old Ukrainians can pick them up and cash them in for something. So most people follow around in this, and it is something close to truth, as the streets are usually the cleanest.
Пока.
19 May 2006
Украиїна, or the space thousands of miles from Там.
Так. Приехал.
Incredible and then some. It's not possible to fit everything into words and such that I can't even work into thoughts and spaces of sobriety. The two day something flight was a few days ago and this is the first time I've been able to land myself in an internet cafe or anywhere close to a technichally complex object. I am now an expert at pipes. More on that in a bit.
So around 8.5 hours to Amsterdam, 2 hours surrounding myself in the mix of German and some sort of Swedish mix of a language, few Heineken, 3 hours to Kiev. Sleep? Fuck no. The Heineken held me in a semi conscious state, KLM flights out of Amsteram all have a good amount on board. One of the first things you figure out after the hour wait in line through customs for the single worker, who without warning decided it was a great time for lunch and left a bit of a gap in service, at the аэропорт is that bathrooms, separate from rooms with sinks that is, are incredibly rare. Great sentence there, that's the Russian working itself in. Seriously. So much to drink and eat, and not a great amount of space for the results of such activities.
Пиво or beer is everyflippingwhere. Out on the sidewalks, in the thousands of kioski lining the sidewalks where people park their cars or drive down if the roads are full, fucking, everywhere. In America it would probably be a problem. Здесь, where the cost is around 3 grivna and the exchange rate is 5 to 1, the only problem is restraint. Not so much through, the intimidation of the kiosk workers and my struggling Russian is enough to counter most of the urges, that and the lack of bathrooms again.
The paradoxes in society are everywhere, one glance at someone walking past and you have figured it out. Figuring out the reasons behind it are a bit more obscure, but it slaps you in the face every four seconds and then gives you a bit of a kidney punch. Nothing apart from heels on girls. Suits for all the человеки. Walking around in anything short of that is a bit intimidating. Ukranians and Russians are all emotional people, seriously. Figure that out and most else falls into place. You deal with someone at a counter to get a метро pass or fight for some non-carbonated water and it's either an incredible experience or you sort of wish that the stray dogs, or wolves, not much of a line, circling you will decide that its time for a bit of Ukranian колбаса.
Western plumbing is fucking incredible. This is ancient Rome. This is Kiev. The water shorts out every while, usually later at night. The toilet you flush by pulling the bit of wire sticking out of the top and with that actually opening the water to stream in. Using the sink means you open the valve to the pipe on the wall, and in that turn off the water to the kitchen. Hot water means you light the water heater on the wall in the kitchen, haven't exactly figured that one out yet and I usually drop some broken Russian to the host family to work that out, especially as the mother sleeps in the kitchen under that space and mostly lives in that room. Her son-s? and daughter or son's girlfriend or something share what is the main living room to sleep, and I am in the other room with two solid Soviet beds and one of the guys from UM Morris. Incredible.
Things are at great prices around here if you get local or close European and if they don't figure out that you aren't Ukrainian. There are some modern shops in the non-Soviet mall sort of thing in the center of Kiev, all US or main brands, and all priced in grivna with American prices. This doesn't defer anyone from buying these, конечно. They just don't pay rent or upkeep anything else. Soviet is everywhere. Metro stations all have grills on the side with the sycle and hammer, and the whole scene matches the 19th century trains which careen along the probably unmaintained tracks, and always jammed with people. Right. No space bubbles, lost that one a while ago already. Probably on the upside of most third world countries at the same time, as most of the people do the basics for hygiene and the wost is the heat or some old decrepit person shouting at you in Russian and shoving you to the side to get a better space.
Russian is spoken in most places, from the slower bits of conversation that I can figure it from. Everything is written Ukranian which isn't a problem, add a few і ї and it all works out. The languages are similar sounding so I work it down to that if I can't understand more than every 4 words, it's Ukrainian.
Я устал. I'm tired from the overconcentration of differentness, and usually thirsty from the fine edge of drinking, and it's incredible.
Extended flashes of randomness and pictures and such will follow. Time to drink. Пора выпить.
Through all of that, rain still falls the same in Ukraine. За всё.
Incredible and then some. It's not possible to fit everything into words and such that I can't even work into thoughts and spaces of sobriety. The two day something flight was a few days ago and this is the first time I've been able to land myself in an internet cafe or anywhere close to a technichally complex object. I am now an expert at pipes. More on that in a bit.
So around 8.5 hours to Amsterdam, 2 hours surrounding myself in the mix of German and some sort of Swedish mix of a language, few Heineken, 3 hours to Kiev. Sleep? Fuck no. The Heineken held me in a semi conscious state, KLM flights out of Amsteram all have a good amount on board. One of the first things you figure out after the hour wait in line through customs for the single worker, who without warning decided it was a great time for lunch and left a bit of a gap in service, at the аэропорт is that bathrooms, separate from rooms with sinks that is, are incredibly rare. Great sentence there, that's the Russian working itself in. Seriously. So much to drink and eat, and not a great amount of space for the results of such activities.
Пиво or beer is everyflippingwhere. Out on the sidewalks, in the thousands of kioski lining the sidewalks where people park their cars or drive down if the roads are full, fucking, everywhere. In America it would probably be a problem. Здесь, where the cost is around 3 grivna and the exchange rate is 5 to 1, the only problem is restraint. Not so much through, the intimidation of the kiosk workers and my struggling Russian is enough to counter most of the urges, that and the lack of bathrooms again.
The paradoxes in society are everywhere, one glance at someone walking past and you have figured it out. Figuring out the reasons behind it are a bit more obscure, but it slaps you in the face every four seconds and then gives you a bit of a kidney punch. Nothing apart from heels on girls. Suits for all the человеки. Walking around in anything short of that is a bit intimidating. Ukranians and Russians are all emotional people, seriously. Figure that out and most else falls into place. You deal with someone at a counter to get a метро pass or fight for some non-carbonated water and it's either an incredible experience or you sort of wish that the stray dogs, or wolves, not much of a line, circling you will decide that its time for a bit of Ukranian колбаса.
Western plumbing is fucking incredible. This is ancient Rome. This is Kiev. The water shorts out every while, usually later at night. The toilet you flush by pulling the bit of wire sticking out of the top and with that actually opening the water to stream in. Using the sink means you open the valve to the pipe on the wall, and in that turn off the water to the kitchen. Hot water means you light the water heater on the wall in the kitchen, haven't exactly figured that one out yet and I usually drop some broken Russian to the host family to work that out, especially as the mother sleeps in the kitchen under that space and mostly lives in that room. Her son-s? and daughter or son's girlfriend or something share what is the main living room to sleep, and I am in the other room with two solid Soviet beds and one of the guys from UM Morris. Incredible.
Things are at great prices around here if you get local or close European and if they don't figure out that you aren't Ukrainian. There are some modern shops in the non-Soviet mall sort of thing in the center of Kiev, all US or main brands, and all priced in grivna with American prices. This doesn't defer anyone from buying these, конечно. They just don't pay rent or upkeep anything else. Soviet is everywhere. Metro stations all have grills on the side with the sycle and hammer, and the whole scene matches the 19th century trains which careen along the probably unmaintained tracks, and always jammed with people. Right. No space bubbles, lost that one a while ago already. Probably on the upside of most third world countries at the same time, as most of the people do the basics for hygiene and the wost is the heat or some old decrepit person shouting at you in Russian and shoving you to the side to get a better space.
Russian is spoken in most places, from the slower bits of conversation that I can figure it from. Everything is written Ukranian which isn't a problem, add a few і ї and it all works out. The languages are similar sounding so I work it down to that if I can't understand more than every 4 words, it's Ukrainian.
Я устал. I'm tired from the overconcentration of differentness, and usually thirsty from the fine edge of drinking, and it's incredible.
Extended flashes of randomness and pictures and such will follow. Time to drink. Пора выпить.
Through all of that, rain still falls the same in Ukraine. За всё.
09 May 2006
On Oligarchs and Caucus Coalitions
Six days remain and drawing closer. So stoked! Finally figured out where we are meeting at the airport and the address that our prof will be staying at in Kiev. It'll be really interesting to see how the program runs and such with all the prelim bits of information trickling in slower than my hand-eye coordination after five pints and four shots. Maria Georgievna - our Russian prof the last three semesters - wasn't exactly suprised at any of it, its all recurrences of the Soviet system. Almost everything is going through in straight cash when we are in Ukraine. Not just that there aren't a multitude of ATMs dotting the horizon, but that is just how everything is done around Eastern Europe. The cash has to be crisp as counterfitting is about as well paid a job as accounting, if I had more time I would borrow somebody's iron and sit around ironing the cash I have saved from tips for this trip. After watching that scene from 'Lock, Stock', I sort of decided that is what I want to do if I retire rich some day. Wake up every morning with Kiera Knightly in my house floating on a lake, have some coffee, watch some BBC, iron some money.
Setting this post out from Nolte, the wireless is down in Bordertown again. Probably in hindsight better for everything as I would give into buying a scone or something if I had spent more time around there today. Had their soup and sandwich thing again. Soup is hardcore underappreciated in society, especially by myself until around a week ago. Is this really what I have digressed into talking about? Fuck.
I really am hoping my plan of landing an mp3 player in Ukraine works out, I'm not sure my pension-recieving CD player will last the 11 something total hour flights on the way to Kiev. I have to burn off some music to actually play in it, and then remember batteries and such. Realized sometime last night in my cascading apprehensions of the trip that whatever I pick up in Kiev will probably all be programmed in Ukrainian or Russian or some sort of crazy mix with an English or Flemish word thrown in to spice things up, so I sort of have to lock down Ukrainian to listen to music in a week. Listening to mostly acoustic Russian reggaeish lately - this group called 5'nizza, pronounced Пятница which is 'Friday' по-русски. Sort of crazy random noises every few tracks but the beats are all really sweet and beatboxed, and the guitar lines are great. Russian copyright laws aren't exactly solid and you can download most of the shit for free, another upside of reading Cyrillic. I'm going to land an incredible amount of Slav music over the ocean, haven't figured a solid budget on anything that I should limit myself to but maybe that is all for the best playing it off by whatever comes around. After the USD 250 to my host family and the USD 500 to Vira - our prof - , everything else is going to my part in picking up the Ukrainian economy. The Ukrainian Grivna is at around 5.1 USD now and from some Ukrainian friends I can sort of figure costs of things from prices of alcohol. Half a liter of domestic light or dark is around 3 GRV, imported light or dark around 4 GRV. Again, 5.1 USD to the Grivna. За здорове!
Finals are looming and I am dropping way too short an amount of concentration on them. Starting Thursday around 6.30 I launch into the bucket of fun which is 3 finals within 24 hours. After that it's chilling around with my Russian class at our prof's house for most of Saturday, work the last shift at the 'Buck for a month on Sunday afternoon, pack that night, hit up the physician for the first time in a few years Monday morning to fill out a form for studying in Russia, fax it, shake hands with the Starbucks regional manager and reassure him that I'll email him pictures and Lenin statues and whatever the fuck he wants from Kiev, kick it back to my apartment, sit around and act paranoid over leaving anything, then Ayaka - our ASM at the 'Buck - picks me up and drives me to Lindbergh around 3. The flight leaves at 7 and we all meet as a group for the first time at 5. So there's a few hours between meeting the group and my arrival at the airport, which I sort of planned. I fucking love airports. Especially hanging around the international terminals. It's intensely relaxing watching the shifting crowds for me. Figuring that within hours all of the varied faces will disperse thousands of miles apart and never reform in the same way as in that specific lingering light. Amsterdam is going to be incredible. The airport is supposed to be a massive hub for most of Europe, and we have a two something hour layover before we take off for Eastern Europe. Shots, brownies, Euro, flurrying people and possibility and all concentrated in my short acquaintance with the Netherlands.
I could use a sip of that now - or some Thompson and tequila within a fortified compound on the sea, even if without a camera. Oi, Jancsi? That's an experience close enough to call a conflict between the entirety of Magyars and those gun carrying non-bag thieving heathenistic bastards. Take to the hills!
Looming storm clouds make the day too possibly incredible to sit in a room constructing contentless discourses any more than I have already. The only solid excuse for standing under a solid roof today would be ironing bits of paper. Brilliant.
Setting this post out from Nolte, the wireless is down in Bordertown again. Probably in hindsight better for everything as I would give into buying a scone or something if I had spent more time around there today. Had their soup and sandwich thing again. Soup is hardcore underappreciated in society, especially by myself until around a week ago. Is this really what I have digressed into talking about? Fuck.
I really am hoping my plan of landing an mp3 player in Ukraine works out, I'm not sure my pension-recieving CD player will last the 11 something total hour flights on the way to Kiev. I have to burn off some music to actually play in it, and then remember batteries and such. Realized sometime last night in my cascading apprehensions of the trip that whatever I pick up in Kiev will probably all be programmed in Ukrainian or Russian or some sort of crazy mix with an English or Flemish word thrown in to spice things up, so I sort of have to lock down Ukrainian to listen to music in a week. Listening to mostly acoustic Russian reggaeish lately - this group called 5'nizza, pronounced Пятница which is 'Friday' по-русски. Sort of crazy random noises every few tracks but the beats are all really sweet and beatboxed, and the guitar lines are great. Russian copyright laws aren't exactly solid and you can download most of the shit for free, another upside of reading Cyrillic. I'm going to land an incredible amount of Slav music over the ocean, haven't figured a solid budget on anything that I should limit myself to but maybe that is all for the best playing it off by whatever comes around. After the USD 250 to my host family and the USD 500 to Vira - our prof - , everything else is going to my part in picking up the Ukrainian economy. The Ukrainian Grivna is at around 5.1 USD now and from some Ukrainian friends I can sort of figure costs of things from prices of alcohol. Half a liter of domestic light or dark is around 3 GRV, imported light or dark around 4 GRV. Again, 5.1 USD to the Grivna. За здорове!
Finals are looming and I am dropping way too short an amount of concentration on them. Starting Thursday around 6.30 I launch into the bucket of fun which is 3 finals within 24 hours. After that it's chilling around with my Russian class at our prof's house for most of Saturday, work the last shift at the 'Buck for a month on Sunday afternoon, pack that night, hit up the physician for the first time in a few years Monday morning to fill out a form for studying in Russia, fax it, shake hands with the Starbucks regional manager and reassure him that I'll email him pictures and Lenin statues and whatever the fuck he wants from Kiev, kick it back to my apartment, sit around and act paranoid over leaving anything, then Ayaka - our ASM at the 'Buck - picks me up and drives me to Lindbergh around 3. The flight leaves at 7 and we all meet as a group for the first time at 5. So there's a few hours between meeting the group and my arrival at the airport, which I sort of planned. I fucking love airports. Especially hanging around the international terminals. It's intensely relaxing watching the shifting crowds for me. Figuring that within hours all of the varied faces will disperse thousands of miles apart and never reform in the same way as in that specific lingering light. Amsterdam is going to be incredible. The airport is supposed to be a massive hub for most of Europe, and we have a two something hour layover before we take off for Eastern Europe. Shots, brownies, Euro, flurrying people and possibility and all concentrated in my short acquaintance with the Netherlands.
I could use a sip of that now - or some Thompson and tequila within a fortified compound on the sea, even if without a camera. Oi, Jancsi? That's an experience close enough to call a conflict between the entirety of Magyars and those gun carrying non-bag thieving heathenistic bastards. Take to the hills!
Looming storm clouds make the day too possibly incredible to sit in a room constructing contentless discourses any more than I have already. The only solid excuse for standing under a solid roof today would be ironing bits of paper. Brilliant.
05 May 2006
Intransivtivity?
Hit one of those calm, sort of comfortable feelings today again. It always feels off actually saying it or identifying it, sort of in apprehension of it disappearing and some sort of pre-finals frenzy setting back in with its recognition. Trekked over to Bordertown for a while to actually lock down that paper I was frolicking around in my last post - ended out at 5 pages in place of the 3 planned for. I sort of feel that nobody is going to actually read it or analyze it, as most of the lecture is turning it in during this last class for 5-some-percent of the grade in the class. Few pages, assurance that it wasn't an article copied from BBC on the transfer of Hungarian airports to the bids of EU companies, and a full 5 percent toward passing the class is all it took. The articles were actually a bit interesting and moreso the second time around. I think that this is the pull of 'academia' and the shit that stealthily convinces people into the grad school trac for some more papers with university stamps on them and the absence of a few thousand more dollars and years of your twenties. Fuck.
More semi-coherent digressions on that in later posts, probably. Sort of a fresh prospect I've been tossing around as intelligence posts or internships take some of that competitive edge thing I heard of from Carlson 'people' last year. I'll probably find myself a few years off working at a coffee shop in Odessa or something and ridiculing this entire contemplation of more studies, but I'll let it fly for a while.
Picked up a new bag yesterday - one of those Timbuk2 messenger ones. Really miss the old messenger one, but the strap frayed off past any recognition of repair after a solid year and a half, and a load of use and abuse from myself. Almost sounds like domestic abuse. At least I was sober through most of it - or is that worse? Either way it's a solid hundred some dollar donation to Midwest Mountaineering and my bank account shaking its head at me and making angry sounds. Paying rent will be a great time this month. Fuck.
The Coldplay and coffee are running down and night class is looming. Ahhhh - some Parachutes just came over the speakers so its a few minutes more and more random glances around the coffee shop. Crazy how coffee shops and restaurants are totally acceptable places for that. Everyone is sort of focused on their own столик and into their own shit, but the rest of the atmosphere is such an inherent part of whatever you're doing and random glances or conversations is skivvy. Carrying on.
Ukraine in a bit short of a week and a half. So stoked! So many things to land before the final walking to the gate. So much alcoholic tolerance to increase before the first syllabus-directed excursion to Kiev nightlife. So much Russian to lock down - so I can offend an entire population not just by being a foreigner, but by speaking the language of the country that they are finally turning from after the sorry-we-were-sort-of-drunk offences of Russian imperialism.
So much fucking life.
More semi-coherent digressions on that in later posts, probably. Sort of a fresh prospect I've been tossing around as intelligence posts or internships take some of that competitive edge thing I heard of from Carlson 'people' last year. I'll probably find myself a few years off working at a coffee shop in Odessa or something and ridiculing this entire contemplation of more studies, but I'll let it fly for a while.
Picked up a new bag yesterday - one of those Timbuk2 messenger ones. Really miss the old messenger one, but the strap frayed off past any recognition of repair after a solid year and a half, and a load of use and abuse from myself. Almost sounds like domestic abuse. At least I was sober through most of it - or is that worse? Either way it's a solid hundred some dollar donation to Midwest Mountaineering and my bank account shaking its head at me and making angry sounds. Paying rent will be a great time this month. Fuck.
The Coldplay and coffee are running down and night class is looming. Ahhhh - some Parachutes just came over the speakers so its a few minutes more and more random glances around the coffee shop. Crazy how coffee shops and restaurants are totally acceptable places for that. Everyone is sort of focused on their own столик and into their own shit, but the rest of the atmosphere is such an inherent part of whatever you're doing and random glances or conversations is skivvy. Carrying on.
Ukraine in a bit short of a week and a half. So stoked! So many things to land before the final walking to the gate. So much alcoholic tolerance to increase before the first syllabus-directed excursion to Kiev nightlife. So much Russian to lock down - so I can offend an entire population not just by being a foreigner, but by speaking the language of the country that they are finally turning from after the sorry-we-were-sort-of-drunk offences of Russian imperialism.
So much fucking life.
02 May 2006
Rain and espresso make finals disappear, right?
This is in place of a three page paper covering some rando articles on the integration of European identity throught the EU and Transatlantic relations. I figured, as I just finished splashing my share of corporate salary back into the corporate economy and landed a suitcase from Target, I should carry on preparing for flying out to Kiev in - oi - two weeks! The suitcase was the largest in the obscure brand that cost the least from the selection, I about bought the size under it but figured even as I might fill half of it on the way out, it will be filled with random legitimate and possibly pirated Ukrainian items on the way back through US customs. I should snag a drink or some snacks for the customs officers in the airports. It'll have some effect on the other side of the border at least.
So I landed tickets to St. Petersburg a few days ago - made some use of my credit limit again. That hasn't happened for a few weeks - that's right - since I landed the Kiev tickets. I'd feel worse if the money wasn't forwarded to flying. Something really comforting in that, I actually am excited about the 8 something hour flight. And then the three something one after my few hours of misadventure at the layover in Amsterdam. I've got one Euro and a few eurochki that I commandeered from tips that random Europeans passing through dropped, and they are leaving my posession somehow in those two hours. Amsterdam. Heineken?
Most of the week is clouded in work and such, figure I should leave this and flip the discourses of Eco and Vattimo back into focus and turn up the Mum. First day of the week, and a bit of Transatlanticism to set it off - things are on the up and up.
So I landed tickets to St. Petersburg a few days ago - made some use of my credit limit again. That hasn't happened for a few weeks - that's right - since I landed the Kiev tickets. I'd feel worse if the money wasn't forwarded to flying. Something really comforting in that, I actually am excited about the 8 something hour flight. And then the three something one after my few hours of misadventure at the layover in Amsterdam. I've got one Euro and a few eurochki that I commandeered from tips that random Europeans passing through dropped, and they are leaving my posession somehow in those two hours. Amsterdam. Heineken?
Most of the week is clouded in work and such, figure I should leave this and flip the discourses of Eco and Vattimo back into focus and turn up the Mum. First day of the week, and a bit of Transatlanticism to set it off - things are on the up and up.
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