One country, one month, one girl. That was going to be my plan after my dear friend Marine unfortunately had to cancel her trip and I had to go solo. Ukraine, this vast country in the east, in fact the largest in Europe, was going to be my destination. Why Ukraine? This was a question almost every single local asked me when we ended up having a conversation. Well, I don't have any accurate answer, let's just say that consequenses made me the choise. Also I had aready started building up my Russian knowledge which was going to be very handy in Ukraine (although its language is Ukrainian). Even though I love randomness, I also love making plans. So, I had very accurate plan how my month was going to look like. I'm not going to write an entire blog entry about how my days went, where I spent my nights, who I particularly met and what I ate for lunch – rather what memories are now my dearest, what I would do again and what I regret doing.
So, the plan. A rough idea how my month went. I realized writing it would be too complex, so let this map give a rough idea where I spent my days. In total I made over 2500km, sleeping 4 nights in a train.
Budget was roughly the following:
200 euros for flights (Ukraine International Air direct flight Helsinki-Kyiv-Helsinki)
60 euros for trains and buses, one taxi (3 euros)
20 euros for accommodation (3 nights in a hostel). Other than that Couchsurfing/train/train station/volunteering
20 euros for Ukrainian pre-paid SIM card (Kyivstar, expensive even inside Ukraine)
About 50 euros for foods, I dined in a restaurant not more than 5 times. More than half of my time I was volunteering and I worked for my food, so I didn't have to pay.
20 euros for suveniers
About 50 euros for drinks and club entrances, I was in a bar/club 7 times
About 10 euros for other stuff, like ice creams, sweets and so on..
50 euros for gifts for hosts that I bought already in Finland
Total: 500 euros. Less than the money I spend in Finland in one month. What do you want to do with your money? Your choise.
Kyiv, the grand capital of the country
Knowing that the city has nearly as many inhabitants as my entire country, I was not particularly thrilled to get there. As I might have mentioned before, I'm a village girl, or more like a small town girl. Kyiv wasn't any better than I thought – it's made from impressive amount of concrete and the Independence Square, Maydan Nezalezhnosti, couldn't get more Soviet. It's underground passages and metros are filled with people that are flowing in and out like a river of ants, it's streets are filled with fancy cars and businessmen, everyone seems to be in hurry, occasionally a Japanese tourist group stops to make pictures of a statue.
During the 3 days I spent in Kyiv I had hard time finding my place there. Even though I'm telling many negative things, the street Andriyivsky Uzviz was beautiful (although filled with suvenier stalls), as well as the view from Kievo-Pecherska Lavra, which was only fighting against the beauty of the Lavra itself. There was several moments when I felt happy to be in Kyiv. The first is my second meeting with Kyiv when I arrived at 7 am and went to the beach at Trukhaniv Island to have a nap. I think Kyiv is the only capital that has huge sand dunes right in the center of the city, although the river Dnipro is so dirty I wouldn't swim there. The beach was completely empty and I was only interrupted by occasional skiny dippers. Kyivans don't seem to mind the deep green color of the water. I already knew sighseeing is something you shouldn't do in hangover, but after one party I decided to go to ”cleanse my soul” at the Lavra, which is a monastery. The Vichnoyi Slavy Park is a perfect place to cure hangover, as well as the calm caves of the Lavra. I also recommend to stay there until the sun goes down and see millions of city lights across the huge metropol. From the hill you can encounter another unusual feature of Kyiv – it's clearly separated to two parts, the west bank of the river being the modern city and old town having all the shops, restaurants, sights and so on, while the east bank is just endless sprawls of grey housing blocks, where most people live. It's an impressive view, very impressive. For a village girl also a bit scary. Between the west and east there is a huge park, islands and beaches. Might sound very beautiful, but this park is completely not taken care of and it's more like a wild jungle, where you might occasionally find a pile of trash or a settlement built by a homeless person. While walking around you wouldn't believe you are in the center of a metropol.
So, these where the things I enjoyed when being alone. With my newly made friends, however, I managed to have a lot of fun there. I, Navjot and Liza got attacked by a fierce downpour, but because we're so young (and excited), the situation was turned back good by going to hide under a terrace of some run-down house. There we prepared sandwitches, listened to ”We're young” by fun and watched neatly dressed ladies in high heels getting wet when a Land Rover cruises too close over a lake of water. Classy. Businessmen looked at us both in disgust and perhaps in envy. ”They're young, they're free, they're excited”. Before my flight I and Navjot, decided to be cheap and be in a bar the entire night without sleep. Our favorite bar, Palata #6, is an excellent destination for this – it's shit cheap and it's full of students and other youngs who are usually willing to share a table with you and talk English. New friends were made the both nights I went there. When the bar closed we bought our favorite beer, Zibert (0,7 euros for 1,25L), and went to drink it in the train station. It was only 10 minutes when Navjot's train to Lviv was about to leave when we finished the bottle in front of the ”vagon lady” waiting her to get in. When I was sleeping at the airport alone I started wondering where is Navjot, my crazy Canadian friend, now that I need her company to do stupid things and drink Zibert. That was my Kyiv.
The Carpathians – And introduction to the Hutsul culture
The most beautiful place I visited in Ukraine is clear, very clear. It's the Carpathian Mountains. Ivano-Frankivsk is a perfect stop before the Carpathians where you can enjoy a cup of
Kvas under the trees by the lake. That's what I did with Roman, my host, when the hot sun was almost unbearable for a Finnish girl. From there a
marshrutky will easily take you to touristic spots such as Vorokhta, Yaremcha or Verkhovyna, although I would recommend not to spend too much time in those places. By thumb you get very easily from one place to another, and the locals are very friendly. It's still a mystery how I got to Dzembronya – I was standing only 1 minute in Iltsi wondering how I will get to Dzembronya when a minibus stopped and took me there without asking any money. Am I a bit lucky traveler?
I spent 4 nights in Dzembronya, a tiny tiny village some 20 kilometers from Verkhovyna, where chickens and cows are roaming on the streets, where horse is among the most common vehicles and life has remained nearly unchaged for hundreads of years. It's strikingly beautiful, calm and idyllic. In Dzembronya they make milk themselves and they live mostly self-sustainably because the nearest shop or
bazar is around 1 hour drive away, behind terrible roads (although classical Lada seems to handle them very well). Not everyone has enough money to own a car, nor can they afford to drive to the
bazar more than ones a week. Indeed, it's very poor region, but people are cheerful and friendly. A good example of that is when I had dropped my phone on the street but a neighbor woman had found it, by calling to numbers she found the owner, contacted my host and I got my phone back. It's normal to see people wearing their national costumes, especially when going to church, which is filled with people on Sundays. Why none of the traditions have remained in the villages in Finland, I wonder? Why have all the cows disappeared or got packed in tiny space inside huge farms, villages either got industrialized or empty? I wonder, if being so wealthy that you don't need to have own domestic animals or a garden, being so wealthy that all the traditions can be forgotten and you can instead concentrate on driving around with your fancy car and watch formula 1 from your very own flat TV, if that actually makes people happy, and is it good for the community then? Luckily I'm not the only one who is wondering this, and now there seems to be a new movement of people moving back to the country side, buying chickens and growing their own potatoes, and being happy.
An important reason for coming to the Carpathians is, of course, hiking. It's a great place for hikers where you can have your own piece, but still meet other hikers. While the highest peak Hoverla is best to be avoided, I found Chornohora ridge so beautiful I didn't even notice I had climped uphill 1500 meters. My trip to Pip-Ivan was rather stupid and reckless – first of all I left alone without knowing the place, and second of all all I was very poorly equipped (no jacket, very little food). Everything went well until I reached the top and a thunderstorm broke. I went adventuring around the old observation tower with my newly made friend Evgeny who was somewhat uncertain wether I will make it back down or not. Now it was cold, windy, foggy, rainy and lightnings were lighting up the dark sky. I was in 2000 meters. The only food that was left was sunflower seeds, which I was even unable to peel. Why had I even bought them? Oh, because the lady at the tiny
magazin was getting nervious when I couldn't make up my mind what I will buy. Evgeny was on a long hiking trip, but donated me a small piece of bread so that I would make it down to Dzembronya and to my host's place (around 10km). It was truly one of the top-3 challenges of my life, and I was mostly worried about my loose left anckle which has for long been asking for a surgery. I tried to cheer myself up by singing, taking pictures of my desperate face, while trying to learn how to peel sunflower seeds. And I don't even like them, not at least after this trip. At last it was getting dark, I was so tired, wet, hungry and in pain that the last 200 meters up the hill to my host's place were a true torture, with a stick I tried to pull myself up, secretly stealing apples and planning to steal a horse. I rested next to a dead chicken. Finally I was there, welcomed by a hot cup of borsch soup and a soft bed. I was so happy that I'm stupid and reckless.
A big thanks for being able to be part of the life in Dzembronya goes to Artjom and Lyudmila who kindly hosted me. It was very special time! No words can describe the beauty of this place where only the bells of cows can break the silence, check out the picture and decide yourself.
Chernivtsi – the place to be
Now we've come to my favorite city in Ukraine. That is Chernivtsi, in south-west Ukraine. As soon as I got off the bus I smelt the scent of adventure from these old, historic, partly run-down houses that represent so many different cultures that have occupied the city over the years. It's been a Moldovan city, it's been a Romanian city, a Soviet city, it has had it's communities of Jewish, Armenian and German people. All of this has left traces in the city which now tries to be a Ukrainian city. It feels like there is many cities inside one. It's a bit shabby, true, but that's part of the charm. Now many of the buildings have been renovated and maybe soon it will start to attract tourists, so go before it's too late! Right now mostly adventurers on their way to Romania and Moldova pass the city, and maybe get stuck there, lost in wonder. This can be seen in The Hostel (with capital letters because it's unlikely you'll find another one in Chernivtsi) which is occupied partly by long-term residents from countries such as UK, Australia and USA. They just can't leave the place, and I don't wonder why, it's a great town. The Hostel feels more like a home where visitors belong to the family of Markus and Ljuba, who own the place. This is not a paid advertisement, and I'm not writing here more, just telling you to go and see it yourself, you won't regret. The owners also provide a great carry-home-from-the-bar-if-too-drunk- service, which is included in the already low price. The night life in Chernivtsi is so beautifully authentic Ukrainian, affordable and incredibly fun. Take some shots of Nemiroff and you'll start loving Russian pop. If you go to Ukraine, don't miss this place, it's a must. But don't drink too much and wake up in Romania without a passport, it can happen (not to me, this time).
From Chernivtsi it's easy to get to Kyiv making a stop in Kamianets-Podilskiy, where a majestic fortress lies on ”island”, meaning there's steep cliffs all around it. The old town itself is very beautiful too, completely unrenovated an authentic. The city is about 1000 years old so there's plenty of history there. Only a couple of years ago foreign tourists started to find the place and now there's a tourist office which claims to know English, but it doesn't. It's still a wild, very wild place. There's a disko klub ”playboy” where the security guard is 60 years old babushka with a baseball bat who will beat you if you're too drunk and being stupid. Don't mess up with her. I spent almost 5 hours watching sun go down behind the fortress, being stupid enough not to realize the train station is kilometers away and the city doesn't have street lights outside the very center. Anyway, it would be very sad if I had missed the night lighting of the fortress, which is too modern for the 1000 years old place, yet beautiful. So, with the help of the locals I took a marshrutky until the driver adviced me to get out and walk somewhere towards the darkenss. 10min walk, he told. Luckily a babushka noticed the lost Finnish girl and took me by hand to the train station across the dark streets which were guarded by packs of stray dogs. She kept talking about her surgeant from Krakow, as if Krakow would be so close to Finland. That's when I realised that I understand Russian. Awesome. She might have have used some German words too that she learnt a long time ago, but mostly it was Russian.
Life in rural eastern Ukraine
The biggest part of my trip in Ukraine was volunteering for two weeks in Krasnokutsk, a small town in eastern Ukraine, less than 1 hour drive from the Russian border, around 100km from Kharkiv. The village was nothing amazing: it was basically like any other eastern European/Russian village with one main street full of little magazins (shops), a bazar, one or two restaurants and pubs, several housing blocks and plenty of little houses that have chickens, turkeys, geese, cows and one dog barking. And around it a fence so tall that you cannot see inside the yard. At least 95% of the villagers have an old Russian car, such as Lada or Ziguli, that I only remember seeing in Finland in my early childhood. It reminded me a bit of a little town in Estonia, Kärdla, where I spent some summers when I was a teenager. Just that this village was more poor, and way more soviet. And no one able to talk English. Anyway, for us, 9 volunteers, it was not just any other village, is was Our Village, where we built our friendship, worked for the community, made friends with the villagers, did our shoppings and spent our freetime playing football with the local boys (or watching FC Metalist Kharkiv games on TV at the local pizzeria).
Some westeneres could be shocked if they saw our accommodation: It was a soviet- time children camp building, painted with happy colors, still extremely creepy with it's huge sleeping dormitories where the paint was falling from the walls. No heating meant it got quite cold when the autumn came, 15 degrees inside was not unusual. Occasionally the electricity or hot water didn't work. The kitchen smelt like wet dog and the toilet had a huge window facing towards the street, but no working lights (use of flash light at night is a must). Turkeys roamed around our yard and drunk men had occasionally fights at the tiny ”drinking room” next to the magazin, opposite to our street. Yes, that's something you would never see in western countries: just next door the shop there is a small room, like a pub, where you can go to drink the beers you just bought. This little shop had maybe 30 different types of beer, but no soft drinks. If you ask nicely, they may have a bottle of wine or vodka for you under the desk. We were all experienced volunteers so our expectations weren't too high – for me this was the most luxurous accommodation of my 4 volunteer camps. I could sleep inside, I had a bed, a shower, a washing machine, a kitchen, what else does a person need for living? The wi-fi was also available, if you just walked 3km to ”Charley's quick pizza” in the center.
Our work was cutting grass and branches in Krasnokutsk Dentropark, a pretty little arboretum just next to our campsite, which has gone little wild, so there was plenty of work to do. The job was boring, true, and physical too. After several days I learnt to use the seyth correctly. We also visited local school and told them about volunteering and cultural differences, and all of them seemed excited to do cultural exchange through volunteer work. Most days it rained so we couldn't even work, so we spent our days eating, sleeping, eating and drinking. Thank god our volunteering group was amazingly good so the bad weather didn't ruin our stay in Krasnokutsk. The most common activity was asking each others questions: ”If someone gave you x euros, would you do ______?”. For example: ”If someone gave you 100 000 euros, would you live your whole life in Krasnokutsk?”. Some would. We also had a ”disko” every night, drinking some carefully selected beer from our little shop, played mafia and other games, playing badminton inside was possible too since the rooms were so big. If it didn't rain, we could go swimming in the lake, play football with the local boys, have BBQ (don't try it on balcony!) or go to hang out in the center. Sometimes Mykola, our project leader, came to play guitar or accordion. Once his friends Nikolay and Ira came also with traditional songs, dresses and ”Samohon”, a local home-made spirit. They also taught us traditional Ukrainian dances, and the house was filled with laugh. So, with all this, the life in Krasnokutsk was not bad at all. Mostly I can thank the locals who were amazingly hospitable, friendly and shiny. I must mention a couple of personalities that lived in the village.
First of all,
Mykola, our project leader. He came from Kyiv and his attempt was to turn this little, dead village alive, attract foreigners and create something new. He believes that people are like animals: they don't need common spoken language to communicate, we can be friends, have fun and understand each others through our body language and facial expressions. This was true, because no one in Krasnokutsk knew English but we still managed to make so many friends and acquintances. Our security guards Sasha & Sasha did their night shifts sometimes drinking vodka and offering it to us. They mostly taught us about the alcoholism issue in Ukraine. In our neighbor lived an old
babushka, Irina, who was very poor but still decided to give us fresh milk so that we wouldn't get sick when it is cold. This fat, thick, hot milk was so good, especially if you dipped some ginger bread you can buy in the nearby magazin in it. Her strenght and positivity still surprises me, we called her ”the sunshine babushka”. All the babushkas seemed to love us, and by the end they all knew us, greeted us happily and asked how are we doing, giving fruits and vegetables. It was not unusual that someone knocks on the door and gives us a bag full of cabbage and water melon.
We were famous, that was for sure. No foreigner comes to Krasnokutsk, so probably the word has spread very fast. They wanted to know us, be good to us and talk with us. In Krasnokutsk there is one ”Disko Klub”, called Mirazh, which was admittedly the funniest place to have party in whole Ukraine. It was a fine disko – one square room, several tables, a desk where you can order shit cheap drinks (50 euro cents for a shot of vodka, and the size of the shot is much bigger than in Western Europe), and an outside squat toilet (although people rather pee next to it). There we met many Sashas, Ivan, Maxim, Dima, Alyona, Alex and so on and so on... Oh, how they loved us, wanted to marry us and so on. After some vodka shots our Russian was nearly fluent – the conversation went on something like this: Alex: ”what do you do here?” Me: ”I like smetana”. Who cares, we danced along ”Mama Ljuba davai” and other Russian pop songs until they closed the doors, and the locals gave us a free ride home with their Ladas and Zigulis, of course. I don't know if we would manage to walk 3km home because there is no street lights. The two nights we spent in Mirazh were some of the funniest I had for a long time.
The story of Krasnokutsk is getting long, but something must be added, which is shopping in rural Ukraine. There is no single shop where you can buy everything, but you need to visit many shops to get everything needed. Our little magazin had just beer and sweets, in Nataliia's magazin (who was much friendlier) you could also buy ice cream (15-20 cents for each) and chips. To buy food we had to go 3km to the center. In one shop you buy milk products, which included milk, kefir (sour milk, in Finland ”piimä”), smetana (sour cream), cottage cheese and some other type of cheese. Everything you need to ask from the devushka behind the desk and tell the amount you want. The vegetables and fruits you better buy at the bazar, but imported products you'll unlikely find, or they are expensive and bad. Toilet paper and other hygien products have one shop. The biggest magazin we called the ”vodka shop” because it had a lot of vodka, but also good wheat products. There is only one place where you can buy meat: ”M'jasna Lavka”, which closes already at 5. Many products, however, you can get or buy from the locals. Hopping from one little shop to another, trying to find the best deals, struggling with language if you don't speak it, not being able to find the right products.. this shopping ritual took usually 1-2 hours, and we did it every other day, and afterwards we carried all of it in our backpacks 3km back to the camp. Oh, and they use abacuses for counting (pearls).
We basically left Krasnokutsk only once, that was when we went to party in Kharkiv. We felt such dirty villagers in this fancy (compared to Krasnokutsk) student city, where most people could actually say something in English. We partied all night in some strange drum'n'bass club and returned home at 8 o clock in the morning. We didn't particularly fancy the music so we got stuck in the sisha room, where we met ”Tea Sasha” carrying many types of tea in his bag. It was a fun night, but it felt great to be back in Krasnokutsk. I actually felt sad to leave Krasnokutsk, during this time it already felt like home, with all it's inhabitants.
Last conclusion of Ukraine
I enjoyed a lot traveling especially in western Ukraine, where history and beautiful architecture meets with some post-Soviet things that you can't see in other eastern European countries. Especially if you compare to Poland or Hungary (the only neighbor countries I have been to), Ukraine had something in it which makes it more exotic, wild and adventurous. Something that gives a solo traveler more adrenaline and the sense of being outside comfort zone. I rather not compare it to Russia, because my comparisons are only two extremes – the isolated and industrial Murmansk Oblast and then western and developed Saint-Petersburg. It was something very different to either of these, it had something very own. The Ukrainian culture is alive and well in the west, and it's not abnormal to see a local walking by wearing traditional Ukrainian clothing. Their language is very different to Russian language and in the west they actually rather not talk Russian, but of course are happy to help a lost Finnish girl who doesn't speak any Ukrainian. I actually didn't have to spend a single train or bus trip quiet, there was always someone talking to me in some language, usually Russian, German, English or something between. They all wanted to know why I'm there and how I find their country, and help me to get to my next destination. People are social and shiny especially in rural Ukraine, so I would say that it's a great place for solo traveling, especially if you know little Russian. It's not unusual that they will invite you in their home or give you a ride, I found Carpathians the best place to do hitchiking (usually the first car took me in). Anyway, there is very little if none basic backpackers, mostly because it's outside the Interrail network and people find it dangerous (what?!). Outside Kyiv I found foreigners only in the hostel in Chernivtsi, so if you know where to look, you will find. So if you go solo, don't rely on finding some other travelers to stick with, unless you go to the hostel to look for. Couchsurfing works great in Ukraine though, there's not so many hosts in smaller cities but they're usually very happy to host!
So many thoughts in my head to write, but let it be here. I was very happy I chose Ukraine for one month – it was a memorable, teaching and different time. Still, I was very happy to return to Finland. Actually the last day in Kyiv was very unpleasant: it was raining hard and I was tired. The cyrillic letters started to irritate me, all the busy people rushing around irritated me, trying to speak bad Russian irritated me, everything that was not like in Finland irritated me, so I did something I never do – went to McDonalds. Later I cured my irritation by having some beer with Navjot, Onur and Burak at Palata #6, and things turned better. When I got to Tampere, my city in Finland, I wanted to shout aloud: ”look everyone, this is my city, it's clean, beautiful, sunny and warm, people speak Finnish or English, isn't it the best place in the World to live!”. So, something was learnt again. In Finland we have a saying: ”oma maa mansikka muu maa mustikka”, which means ”own country strawberry, other country blueberry”, meaning that other countries are good too, but nothing beats your own country. It is true. I was home and happy.
