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Author Topic: Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk April 16-23, Pt. I  (Read 6290 times)

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Offline groovlstk

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Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk April 16-23, Pt. I
« on: April 28, 2005, 01:25:58 PM »
I've traveled to Europe to meet FSU women on three occasions in the last 5 years, and each time it's been an amazing adventure. My search was derailed by Sept. 11 and a layoff in 2003, so it's gone in fits and starts. My first two trips were to meet a woman from Novosibirsk (we met in Italy) and then a woman from Dnepropetrovsk (we met in Prague). On my first two trips, I had faith in the WOVO method (write one, visit one) but I've since realized that at the very least it's risky and at worst it's pure foolishness. I've also decided that, if I decide to meet more women, I will always meet her for the first time on her home turf. 

My trip really begins after I arrived in Vienna via JFK on Sat. morning and hooked up with my connecting flight to Dnepr. Upon arriving at the gate, I immediately sensed a change in the passengers, as most people waiting to board the plane were Ukrainian or Russian. They were much more subdued; couples and families talked in whispers, the men were dressed more conservatively. During the 2-hr. flight many people ordered shots of vodka rather than food, so I knew I was among kindred souls :)

We arrived in Dnepr on Sat. afternoon, and when I exited the plane and stood on the tarmac, I did a quick 360 trying to locate the terminal, finally I spotted it--very small compared to what I expected. There were no shops or frills in the arrivals area. Baggage collection and customs were a breeze, as there were no other arriving flights. This was my first time in an FSU country (besides Prague), and despite all the reading I did much of what I saw was surprising to me. 

I had hit it off really well through phone/email/SMS with one of the women I was writing to, and she had offered to meet me at the airport and to commandeer a cab to my flat to prevent me from being fleeced by a crooked cab driver. Her name is Elena, she speaks good English, and she was by far the woman I was most eager to meet out of the group I was writing to. I picked her out of the 10 or so people in the waiting area very easily; she's absolutely gorgeous, blond hair and the biggest bluest eyes I've ever seen. The realtor I used to rent a flat had sent a courier with the key to the airport so we were soon on our way.  

A word of advice to anyone: If you plan to have a woman meet you at the airport, make sure you're not planning to meet other women. I told Elena repeatedly in the weeks before my arrival that I was going to meet other women while I was there. But she was very disappointed when I followed through with my plan; I believe there's something implicit or unspoken when I allowed her to meet me at the airport that suggested I was planning to spend all my time with her.

On the ride to the city center I was sobered by the housing quality although I'd read about it and should have been prepared. From what I saw of the city during my week there, about 99% of all housing is at best "project" quality housing in Western countries, much more drab than what I see even in Newark or the Bronx. It took awhile to find my flat on Moskovskaya St., as very few of the buildings were clearly marked. The flat itself was nice, a studio with all the amenities I expected, but I intended to spend as little time there as possible outside of sleeping. One thing I noticed about most apartments was that, despite the decrepit exterior appearance, the insides were usually very nice and the rooms were much better insulated against sound from adjoining apartments than what I see here in America. (If anyone is looking for an apt. in Dnepr I'd be glad to send some photos, my place was $35 per night and a 2-block walk to the city center.) Here's a view of Moskovskaya St. from my balcony: http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/from-my-balcony.jpg

I bought along a tiny MP3 player along with a set of portable speakers the size of a pack of cigarettes, and soon Stan Getz's sax was filling the warm Spring air in my flat. As I unpacked and showered, I vowed to look at my watch every hour so that time wouldn't seem to fly by, as I suspected it would. I only wish it had worked. Elena met me an hour later for dinner, and my first walk through the city was memorable as it was obvious I stood out like a sore thumb. Elena explained to me that until the late 1980s, foreigners were prohibited from entering Dnepro because some of their steel factories created military equipment. I dressed as nondescriptly as I could--jeans with a white button-down Oxford shirt, and I spoke quietly to her as we walked, but it was fruitless as passersby turned to look at me whenever they heard us speaking English. We had dinner at a passable Italian place, Pastoral, and while we ate Elena explained to me that it wasn't just the clothes and language that made me different, but the way I walked. Just as she said this, I crossed my leg over my knee and put an arm across the back of my chair, and she laughed and told me that even such small habits were dead giveaways that I wasn't a local yokel. After that I gave up trying to blend in and simply went about my business. I was invariably polite to everyone I met, and because I bought along a big sack of "I Love New York" refrigerator magnets, I made lots of friends. One afternoon, I took a photo of a long line of babushkas selling vegetables, cigarettes, and whatnot near the city center. They all began jabbering and laughing at me. I dug out my Russian phrase book and paid them a few compliments before handing them some magnets. (They were laughing hysterically as I walked away, and I had to join them as I imagined them saying to each other "only a stupid American would want to take photos of a group of old women!")

After dinner I walked Elena back to her flat, she lives about 10 minutes from where I was staying. Predictably, I got lost on my way back and spent the next hour retracing my steps until I found my flat. There were no street lights so it was pitch black, and the streets were deserted. I never felt endangered, however, and having lived in the NYC area through the badass 80s and 90s, I'm accustomed to constantly monitoring the environment for danger .  

The next morning I woke up early and went and bought a cell phone (about $50 with an Ace and Base chip), something I should have done immediately upon (or prior to) arrival.

The next morning, Elena naturally pretended not to remember that I told her I'd be meeting other women while I was there, and she pouted and tried to get me to spend my second day in Dnepro with her. I fended her off and explained that I liked her very much but I needed to see other women in order to be sure of my feelings for her (and I wasn't telling her a story, I truly liked her and definitely wanted to spend more time with her). That afternoon, I met a woman for lunch, her name is Svetlana and I met her through the Cindy Agency. I bought along my own interpreter so I didn't need to rely on the agency. We had lunch at an US-based restaurant chain, Potato House, at her insistence. I acquiesced, but if she had insisted on McDonald's I'd have said goodbye and sprinted back to my flat and hid under my bed. She seemed very sweet, but it was incredibly awkward addressing her through an interpreter. I felt like I was one of those idiotic eccentrics that speak about themselves in the third person. I found myself saying the most simplistic, idiotic things to her. We parted after lunch and I confessed to her that I was planning to visit Kiev, but if I decided to stay in Dnepro perhaps we could meet again. 

On my walk back to my flat I was almost tagged by a car that pulled up onto the sidewalk. I deal with crazy cab drivers every day in Manhattan and the only way to get them to behave is to refuse to back down. They try to intimidate out-of-towners into letting them pass by waiting until the last second to brake when turning a corner, for instance. After that I had to keep reminding myself that the rules in Dnepr were different and I'd have to remember to be careful.

I picked up a nice flower arrangement for Elena in a shop near my flat. Evidently, it was more of a market, as each woman there had a table and tried to entice me to buy her flowers, extolling the virtues of their floral arrangements while I nodded idiotically and thanked them. I paid only 20 hryvnia for a gorgeous arrangement.

That evening I met another woman, Natasha, who was also from the Cindy Agency. We went to a restaurant called Reporter (photo here: http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/restaurant.jpg). The menu had English translations, the only such I saw during my stay. Natasha was stunningly beautiful, very petite and slim, with blond hair and lovely blue eyes. Earlier, I'd spoken with my interpreter, Dima, and explained to him that the previous encounter with Svetlana felt really awkward, and he told me that I should just forget he's there and address the woman instead of him. But again it felt very awkward--my hat's off to you guys who can get past the language barrier, but at the end of the evening I decided I wasn't going to bother with any women who didn't have at least rudimentary English. I didn't feel tired so I stopped in a cafe near my flat and sampled Ukrainian beer. It was very good, but my waitress was terrible. I'm used to bad service, in NYC many waiters and waitresses are out-of-work actresses and models (We call them WAMs for short: Waitress-Actress-Models), but I found only one decent waiter during my stay. I made sure I asked the woman I was with during this meal to tell him he was the best waiter in all of Dnepr and the guy beamed like he'd won the Irish Sweeps. Despite my annoyance, I took great pains to not to be yet another ugly American, so like the locals, I simply dealt with it. 

The next morning, Elena came to my flat and we went touring the city. My favorite place in all of Dnepr was Monastery Island, and I gladly snapped a few photos like this: http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/monastery.jpg  Elena couldn't enter the church as she didn't have a veil to cover her head (I was surprised at this custom, but another women I met took me to Troitskyi Cathedral and before we entered she told me the same thing). 

Here are some other places we visited during the course of the week:

National Mining University:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/university.jpg (This one drew snickers from my cynical NYC friends, who wanted to know if the students were required to bring their own shovels to class :)

Troitskyi Cathedral:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/church.jpg

http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/church1.jpg

Another shot of Monastery Island:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/bridge_monastery.jpg

History Museum:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/history-museum.jpg

Preobrazhenskyi Cathedral:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/cathedral.jpg

Bridge on the Dnipr:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/bridge.jpg

Shops:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/market.jpg

Soviet style war monument:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/memorial.jpg

Boats on the Dnipr:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/boats.jpg

I don't want to post any photos of the women I met since it seems tasteless, but I think Elena would be OK with me posting this photo of her:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/elena.jpg

Outdoor artists' market on Karl Marx Prospect:
http://home.comcast.net/~marka136/karlmarx.jpg

That evening I was scheduled to meet my ex-GF, Yana. She was having an affair with her sister's husband, and she didn't know I knew her sordid secret. But an hour before we were supposed to meet, I got an SMS from another woman I'd met through Cindy Agency, Valentina. Valentina has good English and she had the evening free, so I agreed to meet her for dinner and phoned Yana and told her that I'd meet her late in the evening, if at all. I thought she'd blow me off but she agreed to wait. 

Valentina was cute, not quite as lovely as her photos indicated, but I enjoyed my dinner with her. I knew after the first few minutes that I wouldn't be calling her to meet again during my trip, and I think she sensed it so we were very frank with each other. I asked her how many men she'd met, and she said she'd met 5 men in the last year (I was the first Yank). She said that most of the men were fat or very old, and it depressed her and sometimes she wished she could accept the fate of a difficult life without love and children. I told her about Elena and about Yana, and she counseled caution and compassion. We wrapped up around 8 PM and after a quick peck on the cheek I was once again free. 

I met Yana for coffee and we had some cordial catch-up talk. All the time I was smiling inwardly because I knew she was confused about why I had been blowing her off over the last month, never suspecting that I knew she was two-timing me. She had to get back to work but she told me she wanted to make dinner for me at her flat on Fri. night. I agreed, although I figured if something more interesting came up I could always cancel. 

Over the course of the week I managed to spend a few mornings and afternoons walking the city and freelancing. There were so many incredibly beautiful women and maybe 1/2 were happy to stop and make small talk with me when I pretended to be lost, but none of them spoke any English so after a few awkward moments reading them sentences out of my Lonely Planet Russian Phrasebook and not having the faintest F'n clue of what they said in response, I wished them well and went on my way. I honestly wish I'd invested more time in learning Russian. I did notice that the men, in general, dressed and comported themselves very shabbily compared to the women. It's too bad they don't know how good they have it, but then again if they did realize it guys like us would be stuck with Western women :)

The next morning I went to an internet cafe and wrote to my family and friends. I was terrified that the PCs there had keystroke loggers and such installed but I seem to have been lucky. When I got back to my flat Elena was waiting for me, uninvited. We went to a cafe for coffee and she was pouty, no doubt because I'd spent time with other women. Over the course of the next few days she sent me a lot of crazy SMS messages. She must have told me she never wanted to see me again 10 times via SMS, but after the first time I realized she was a drama queen and wasn't really serious. At the same time Yana kept phoning me and asking to meet, but I didn't want to waste too much time with her.

That evening I had dinner with Elena's family. As I expected, I was asked to remove my shoes and wear a pair of slippers after I entered their flat. I felt a bit ridiculous without my shoes, but hey. Elena's dad died three years ago so it was just her mom, cousin, her nephew, and some friends who lived in the building. Her nephew is a wonderful boy, he's 15. He doesn't know English but he loves heavy metal and video games. I'd say he's similar to American teens but that'd be inaccurate--sure he had the same interests, but he was polite and respectful rather than sullen and ill-mannered like most American teens. Our conversations went something like this: 

Nikita: Judas Priest!
Mark: Metallica!
Nikita: Dokken!
Mark: Van Halen!
Nikita: Grand Theft Auto!
Mark: Halo!

Nikita dragged me to his room to play video games and because I have two nephews the same age as he, I've played these games before. We were soon locked in competition and yelling and laughing at the screen. This endeared me enormously to Elena, as she's very close to Nikita. Hell, he's a great kid and I'd have been more than happy to skip dinner and play video games with him all night.

Dinner went mostly well, I made sure to eat two helpings of everything. Every few minutes someone was topping off my shooter with vodka and new toasts were made. I was game through the borscht and vareniki, making sure I filled my plate twice. There was also a plate with thick bacon (I forget the name of this dish) that everyone ate with a slice of bread and it was very good. But one bite of the herring and beet salad and I almost blew my groceries. At that point I explained that I couldn't eat anymore and although I got a rebuke from Elena's mom, I think I more or less passed muster. After dinner, Elena's neighbors invited me to their flat where we had coffee with cognac and chocolates. Her neighbor had a nice DVD collection and pointed me towards it; the only movie I recognized was Johnny English. So they put it in the player and rolled it in English without subtitles. A few minutes into the movie, I realized that everyone in the room besides me and Elena didn't understand a single word that was being said, but they were willing to sit through 90 minutes of gibberish just to show their hospitality. 

Afterwards Elena suggested we go to a cafe for coffee, but when we were free of her family and friends she dragged me back to my flat. I teased her because when we first met at the airport, I got a perfunctory hug, about what I'd expect from the old ladies at my church during the peace offering. But from our first few minutes together I knew she was digging me, as her eyes never left me. Earlier I told her that I liked Dnepr so much that I'd love to live there, and she excitedly told me she'd help me find work there. As much as I'd love to live there for a year or so, I have a good career here and without speaking Russian I'd never land a decent job with an American company. But I was pleased by her reaction. 

To be continued…

 

 


Offline jb

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Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk April 16-23, Pt. I
« Reply #1 on: April 28, 2005, 02:53:17 PM »
Excellent trip report, I enjoyed reading it.

Offline Bruce

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Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk April 16-23, Pt. I
« Reply #2 on: April 29, 2005, 03:00:01 AM »

I look forward to the next chapter.  Realistic so far.
"A word is dead when it is said, some say.  I say it just begins to live that day."  Emily Dickinson

Offline tim 360

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Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk April 16-23, Pt. I
« Reply #3 on: April 30, 2005, 01:36:22 AM »
A great read Groovlstk!  Keep it coming.  Tim
"Never argue with a fool,  onlookers may not be able to tell the difference".  Mark Twain

 

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