David, Liliana, Chrisna and I took off for a long weekend in Kiev at the beginning of December.
I was hoping to meet with a colleague who develops centers for entrepreneurship in Ukraine, and see if there was a possibility for some similar efforts in Moldova.
Kiev was COLD.
Kiev was GREY.
Kiev was EXPENSIVE.
We stayed at the flat of a friend of Liliana's. We learned that folks with basic jobs cannot afford to live anywhere near the city center. We were 15 minutes walking to a subway station, and then a 30 minute ride into the city from there.
So we walked on the ice in the cold wind, past block after block of huge gray apartment buildings near nothing but other huge gray apartment buildings, past street side vegetable vendors to the subway.
We took the trains, which were really quite ok, until we reached the center of the city. When we got out, were must have been
hundreds of feet underground. The escalator going up was the longest and steepest I'd ever seen in my life. Sure enough, we emerged on a broad hilltop, covered with cathedrals, nice buildings and fancy shops. We saw the surrounding city from high up in a cathedral clock tower.
For the most part, we were not that impressed. In the summer or spring, this would likely be a much nicer place. But the winter under-emphasizes the trees and rivers, and over-emphasizes the course blocky architecture and lack of attention to exterior aesthetics. It was my second visit, and Kiev is remains in my mind an expensive, ugly, unkempt city with beautiful people walking about when the weather is nice.
We ate street food. The picture at the top shows Chrisna and I at our absolute happiest moment of the trip. We found a Turkish Kebob stand just outside of an expensive food market, and boy was that good!
Getting a HaircutAnd the cultural highlight of it all for me? I got a haircut. That's me in the first picture waiting, looking at the newspaper as if I can read Ukrainian. I found the sports page immediately. Now that's
living baby! I've gotten a haircut in all kinds of places. It's one of the things I like to do when I travel. If I find a plain old barber shop, or simple salon, I'll make sure to go and get a haircut. There are lots of reasons this is a good idea, and a few reasons why it is a bad idea. The good is that hair salons and barber shops are gossip centers and a great way to get some local flavor and information. Second, hair style is highly regional cultural specific. The differences between a foreign and a local haircut can be very subtle, but completely obvious to a local. Getting a local haircut immediately helps you blend, certainly not completely, but at least enough not to stick out quite so much. Third, each haircut in a foreign place is an adventure for both oneself and for the barber or stylist. What will it look like? Who is this person? How can we communicate? Fun fun fun.
At this place, the poor stylist had just put curlers in her hair, and she was so embarrassed that she yelled at David for taking a picture. Then her friend ran out of the back laughing, and got another picture of he cutting the American's hair. Chrisna waited outside completely nervous about what this was going to look like.
We stopped at a famous Hindu temple to the god Cali. Here the men go down to the water of this ceremonial lake and try to touch a fish or a giant turtle, that are incarnations of the spirit of Cali. It was amazing to see. People would drive up on bikes or walk, buy some thing to feed the fish (or themselves) then wade into the water and touch these giant carp in the lake.
We drove a couple of hours south for another wonderful day among children at a mission hostel
and school deep in a tribal village of southern Tripura. We were welcomed with a song, and then each of us was asked to give a message to the school children. That went over pretty well, although I am not sure how much they understood us. We tried anyway. Then we visited the sisters who were watching over the younger kids. The pictures are of the 3-4 year old bosy who were absolutely great . I also took a picture of the kitchen, an old wood stove
with two big pots. One pot was full of cooking rice, and the other full of a delicious smelling masala -- lunch was just about ready. Out back was a big pond where the fish are "grown" and the kids catch them as needed for food. Overall, the sisters were a joy, the children
so cute I wanted to take them all home, and life was kind of tough but full of love and community.
Brick and rubber are the major industries around here, and both are intensely low tech operations. We passed a few security check points on the road as well -- it turns out that no one is allowed on certain stretches of the road after 6pm due to occasional militant attacks. We were welcomed at the mission school in the tribal village with a great ceremony by the kids. They performed traditional and modern-jazzed traditional dances for us. 
Then they asked one of the honored visitors to make a greeting speech. John and Sandy (my traveling colleagues) chickened out so I had to do it. I made tree quick points: First I explained the meaning and importance of "yes we can." (Obama is already a hero around here). Secondly I spoke briefly on the importance of education, and lastly I told them to be nice to each other. It went over very well.
This was a very impressive young woman. She had trained in a form of tribal dance for one full year, and she is only 5 years old.
On Sunday, Bart took me to see NEC (the Nimegen pro soccer club) play Feyenoord, a very good team from Rotterdam. It was cold at the stadium, but we had great seats just 6 rows up from the field, thank to Bart's company who does the graphic design and advertising stuff for NEC. Bart actually designed the team logo. The game started with lots of home for an upset, but unfortunately, we lost 0-2. 
So we walked on the ice in the cold wind, past block after block of huge gray apartment buildings near nothing but other huge gray apartment buildings, past street side vegetable vendors to the subway.
hundreds of feet underground. The escalator going up was the longest and steepest I'd ever seen in my life. Sure enough, we emerged on a broad hilltop, covered with cathedrals, nice buildings and fancy shops. We saw the surrounding city from high up in a cathedral clock tower.
