Trip Report, Dnepropetrovsk, Oct. 15-22

[groovlstk]

I spent a week in October in Dnepropetrovsk, it was my 2nd visit to this industrial city, 4th visit to Ukraine, and 7th visit to an FSU country. I'd highly recommend Dnepr to any guy searching, it's not like Kiev or Moscow where encountering Americans is fairly common. If you speak English while you're out walking or dining in cafes in Dnepr, you'll get lots of people craning their necks to get a glimpse of you. Many folks have never met an American before, and it's very endearing when your girl shows you off to her family or friends, since everyone treats you like Elvis Presley. Admittedly, this is not always a good thing--more enterprising residents expect that, like Elvis, you're willing to give away baby blue Cadillac El Dorados, but I've been fortunate in my experiences and have been able to avoid getting fleeced out of nothing more than a few dinners, so far.

My main interpreter, Ira from Cindy Agency, met me at the airport. This is my second time flying into Dnepr via Austrian Airlines and I must say it's great--the layover in Vienna is only 2 hours, and there are no other flights to DNK on Saturday afternoons so customs and baggage claims is a breeze. It's not so great in late Summer, however. One girl I know in Dnepr says that during vacation season the line for customs can stretch outside the building onto the tarmac.

There's nothing like the excitement of clearing customs and exiting the airport there, knowing an adventure awaits. I was writing to about 10 women, some through freepersonals.ru and the rest through Cindy. I'm 41, and in past trips I refused to meet any girls under 30, but I decided to widen my nets a bit on this trip. I also decided not to pass up a girl I was interested in because she didn't have good English.

I'd asked Anna from Cindy to have a car waiting for me, but they must have misunderstood me because I was greeted by Ira, my main terp while in Dnepr, and she in turn flagged a taxi for us. She's about 4-10, 90 lbs., and about 20 years old. I grumbled a bit at the $15 I had to pay for an escort in addition to the 50 grivna for the taxi. Since this was my 4th trip to Europe in the last six months, I was also on a strict budget. I managed to get through the week without spending more than $550, which includes the rent on my flat. After the flat, terp fees were the next highest item, but I managed to keep that down by tapping into a friend I had in Dnepr.

I stayed at the same flat on Moskovskaya St. that I wrote about in my first trip report. Fortunately the lock system is easier than some of the other flats guys on RWD have stayed in. (Right Stoichman? Right Michael? J) I'd recommend to anyone visiting Russia or Ukraine to invest in one of those tiny keychain flashlights, they're a lifesaver in many situations over there.[/b] After unpacking and a quick shower and shave, I headed off in the direction of Cindy Agency. I marveled at the flats, cafes, shops, etc. that I saw on my last trip which I'd sadly suspected, on the final day of my previous trip, I'd never see again. It was oddly comforting to me that when I went into the tiny bodega across my flat to get some bottled water, I recognized the counter girl. Part of it I'm sure is that everything changes so quickly where I live that it's a bit unsettling, so a little stability is very comforting, even if it's 4000 miles away. But I also liked the idea that I knew exactly where the all-night supermarket was, where I could get good coffee (Celentano's), and the best place to scope women (Reporter café).

My Ambien didn't work during my flight so I hadn't slept in about 24 hours and I refuse to eat airline food so the last nourishment I'd had was a Brooklyn Lager at JFK airport 15 hours earlier. (Amazingly, the bartender at JFK recognized me from my previous trips--Warsaw and Kiev--over the Summer, and asked me, "how's them Ukrainian wimmin doin'?" Surrounded as we were by German tourists waiting to board our flight, I could only whisper back, conspiratorially, "dude, you have no idea… no idea[/i] what you're missing") Still, I didn't feel tired, in fact I was cranked up and ready to engage. I unpacked, jumped into the shower, and was ready to go within 30 minutes. With seven days on the ground, I was willing to forego sleep, eating, whatever in order to maximize my time. I walked 10 minutes to Cindy, eager to line up a date for my first night. The girl in charge, Katya, asked me to give her a list of girls I wanted to meet. No problem… I was very lucky since the girl I was most eager to meet, J, was available--the catch was that she was babysitting her friend's 10-year-old daughter and asked if she could bring her along. My visions of a quiet evening in a café were replaced by thoughts of Happy Meals, but I was a good sport and agreed. I was also very interested in this girl because she was new to the agency and wrote to me that I was the first man who'd written to her.

Anono, along with a lot of other experienced guys on the board have urged others to skip agencies and work the field. I'd say that if you go with an agency, put your best marbles on the newest girls, as there's a good chance they're not yet cynical or in it for free dinners (at least not yet). A girl I met on my last trip to Dnepr, six months ago, signed up at Cindy only weeks prior to my first trip, and when I met her I immediately grooved on her enthusiasm and the faith she had in me almost from the first letters we exchanged. I met this same girl again last week and she was cynical and very down on the whole idea of finding a husband abroad.

While I was at the agency waiting for J, a guy named Neil came in. We shook hands and exchanged vitals, he's from Chicago, about 30, good looking and confident. He'd been in Dnepr all the previous week and was set to leave the next evening. I met another American guy from Tennessee later in the week, in addition to a Norwegian and a British dude. One of the office assistants explained to me that more than 1/2 of the clients who visit Cindy are Americans. They do a pretty brisk business, there were three girls translating letters and phoning girls, and one manager. One of the translators was smoking hot, and she kept eyeing me and I almost regretted having a date that night. Neil's 7PM date was late, and when the manager called her she gave some vague excuse as to why she couldn't make it. The girl hadn't had the courtesy to call and cancel, and I get the impression that this happens fairly often. We're a commodity to some of these women, and if something better turns up or she isn't in the mood to pose and posture to earn a free dinner, it's no big deal to simply disappear.

My terp Ira arrived and I spent the next 20 minutes kibitzing with her. She knows English well enough that I could tease her and get her laughing. J phoned saying she was going to be late, so I settled into a discussion on politics with the girls in the office (3 were orange, 1 blue--and it's interesting because they obviously didn't know each other's political affiliations until this discussion, even though they must spend many hours each day together).

J showed up just as the translators were leaving, around 8 PM, and I was happy to see she was alone. I love children but on a first date with a girl who can't speak my language, it seemed to me that a child would be a huge distraction. She told me the girl had a headache so her mom took her. J was quite beautiful, just like her photos, with wavy blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. I asked her if she was hungry, since I was starving, but she said she'd eaten already so we headed to a café for drinks. Ira suggested Sparta, about 5 minutes away, but I steered us to Iceberg, a small, romantic place on Moskovskaya St., about a block from Karl Marx St. Iceberg has really cool blue lighting that I like (although on my last trip, one of my cranky dates I met there told me the lighting made her nervous). J and I ordered piva, while Ira, who had a cold, asked me if it was OK if she ordered tea. I liked this about Ira, she always asked for permission to order juice or tea when we were together, or to answer her mobile when her mom called to check on her whereabouts. Not that I'd refuse her, but some of the other terps I've had are as bad as the professional daters when it comes to ordering food.

J had a bazillion questions for me, and she was extremely intense. She has a deep, husky voice, and at several points in the evening I had to forcibly interrupt her. I could tell that our poor terp, Ira, was overwhelmed at times. But after being with J for two hours, I realized her intensity was because she was very excited to be with me. J works as a realtor and has ambitions to own her own real estate agency in the future. She was married for a year and divorced only last Spring. She works very hard and claims that she and her mom share a large flat in one of the most exclusive buildings in Dnepr. Midway through our first date, I knew I wanted to see her again. It wasn't because she was so gorgeous, or that I admired her ambition and independence, or that I was dumb enough to fall for the first girl I met. Quite simply, I felt that she genuinely liked me. I met a bunch of other women while I was there, and unfortunately if a girl was really shy I was forced to write her off because I had so little time. All the girls I met in Dnepr were intelligent, beautiful, and cultured, but it counted for nothing if I didn't feel that they were interested. Two of the girls I met seemed to be very shy, and I wonder today whether I could have cultivated something with them if I'd gone for a 2nd date, but because I had such little time I had to make capricious decisions on the fly.

We were together for 4 hours, and at the end of the night I walked J to her marshrutka stop on Karl Marx. After a quick peck on the cheek, she agreed to meet me the next day, Sunday. Foolishly I didn't get her mobile #, thinking (incorrectly, as it turned out), that I could get Ira or someone at Cindy to phone her.

Whenever it came time to pay Ira for her services, she always urged me to do it in an alley or behind a billboard, as she was worried that people on the street would think she was a prostitute or drug dealer. So whenever we found a quiet place and I paid her at the end of the night, I'd always tell her "thanks for the primo cocaine and hot sex," and she'd laugh hysterically. I'd then walk her to a taxi stand on Karl Marx St. Still, she insisted that if I was with her the drivers would think I was her boyfriend and charge her an exorbitant amount. She claimed that even if I was silent, they'd recognize by my manner and dress that I was a foreigner, and she's correct. I realized this is exactly what Anono's been preaching for the last month here, that almost everyone in Ukraine sees American men as potential marks. So I'd walk about 10 feet behind Ira, and then wait until she was in a cab and rolling before I returned to my flat.

So, I had a bounce in my step as I walked back to my flat on my first night in Dnepr, never realizing that it was far from over. When I got to my flat, I remembered I was really hungry. I hadn't ordered anything to eat at the café because it was difficult enough working through a terp without the distraction of food. So I sent an SMS to Y, a girl I met on my last trip, a girl I confess I still had feelings for but who'd met a guy recently that she was head-over-heels for. I asked her if there were any all-night cafes where I could get some vareniki and borscht. Although it was after midnight, she confessed that she wasn't tired and offered to meet me and take me to a cafe. Y told me she'd meet me in 30 minutes near my flat, but I decided to walk to her flat and wait for her and give her a little surprise. About 20 minutes later, I recognized her figure leaving her building as she dialed her phone. I waited until she was about to pass when I answered her call, which scared the bejesus out of her but within seconds she was laughing. The only place open was a disco, but they had a small menu and after paying a cover, we were in. As you can imagine, the music was so loud so the only way we were able to chat was by typing into my Blackberry and showing each other the text. Y summoned the waiter and ordered their full board of fare. Soon the table was crowded with salads (why, oh why must they put mayonnaise on everything?!?!), a platter of sliced sausage, some kind of concoction with diced ham which was of course covered in mayonnaise, some bread, and more. But hey, it's a disco, I could hardly expect to see Emeril Legasse in the back, slinging hash. At one point while we were at the disco, Y wrote to me, "why did you stop phoning me and sending me messages?" I wrote back, "I'm sorry I screwed everything up," and she looked at me sadly, wistfully, and I realized that I'd lost my opportunity with her. We left the disco and since we were both wide awake still, we went walking along the embankment. I remembered taking this walk with her several times in my last visit, and I noticed some improvements along the promenade, a big pyramid-like structure for sitting, and a fountain below the bridge spanning the Dnipr lit up with bright purple lights. We walked and walked for hours, talking about events in our lives since we last met. I asked her about her new boyfriend but she was evasive, giving me only a few details. I told her about my date with J, and how I was planning to see her again tomorrow. By time I walked her home it was after 6 AM and I could see the first vestiges of morning. I walked back to my flat and crashed. It had been a very busy first day.

[Michelangelo]

Great post, Mark.  Having just been there, I could see the city you described through my own experiences, making it even more real.  Keep it coming

[groovlstk]

Day II

I woke up around noon on my second day in Dnepr, more or less refreshed. The previous day, I had phoned a girl I was writing to from freepersonals.ru, Marina, and she told me she'd meet me today (Sunday). I grabbed my mobile along with my cheat sheet of important phone #s, jumped back into bed, and dialed Anna, hoping she could set up another meeting with J. She wasn't answering her mobile, but I continued to ring her every ten minutes. I then called Marina to see if she'd meet me for lunch, but she didn't want to go outside because it was chilly and gray. 

For the love of Mike! 

She told me to call her again on Monday, but I scratched her from my list. I'm not going to chase someone I've never met in person, and time was a-wastin'. I showered and dressed, then walked one block to Celentano's, an Italian place that has decent coffee and great music (American jazz, 50s Rock, and R&B), if not much else. A girl in front of me ordered pizza and one of the toppings she chose was corn! I love pizza and often make my own (the crust comes out best when cooked on my Weber gas grill, which can reach temps as high as a brick oven, unlike most conventional kitchen ovens), and before I could check myself I asked, "jeez... how can you eat pizza with corn on it?" People turned to look at me. I remembered the culinary outrage I felt when I saw Californians using pineapple as a pizza topping, so I figured corn wasn't too big a deal. And my personal topping fave--onions caramelized until they're black and crispy--probably sounds strange to a lot of people. Anyway, a guy behind me in line spoke English, and he invited me to dine with he and his wife. I declined since I was on my way to the i-net café, but after I left Celentano's I realized I'd made a mistake and hurried back and found my new friend. His name is Sergei, he looked to be about 35 and he was having dinner with his wife, who was four months pregnant and absolutely gorgeous. Sergei told me he went to univ. in America, and his company did business with some US companies. I told him why I was in Dnepr and he offered to introduce me to some of his wife's single friends. I gave him my mobile # and email address and I had high hopes, but unfortunately I still haven't heard from him.

I have another friend in Dnepr I met through Odigo chat one year ago, her name is Nadia. I had lunch with her on my first trip last April, and we usually chat or exchange emails every day. She's very attractive but we're strictly friends. I phoned her and she was recovering from the flu and didn't want to go outside, but we made plans to hook up later in the week.

I dialed Anna again and still no answer. The previous evening I'd asked Ira, my terp, for her mobile number but she told me to go through Anna if I needed her. I'm guessing the agency takes a cut of the terp's fee so they want to be in the loop at all times. I dialed another girl whose mobile number miraculously made it through the usual email vetting a few weeks previous. She's a singer in the city's opera company and speaks fluent Italian. When I wrote to her weeks earlier saying that I was 1/2 Dago, she wrote to me and asked me to "please communicate with me in the language of your forefathers." How could I not like a girl who'd say such a thing? Unfortunately, I am fluent in Italian profanity but little else. Anyway, when she answered, Katya told me in halting English that we needed a terp.

I had one of those "what the hell am I doing here so far from home, I must be crazy?" moments as it looked as if the day was escaping me. 

Figuring I couldn't count on Anna that day, I made my way to the internet café to look up a local terp. While I was there Anna finally called me and agreed to set up a date with Katya. Unfortunately she wasn't near a PC so she couldn't look up J's phone number, so J was a healthy scratch that day. I had a new terp, Julia, and I met her outside the building where the Cindy office is. Julia claimed that Ira was sick. 

Was every freakin' woman in Dnepr sick that day, or what? 

Julia was painfully shy, but I tried to get her talking about her education and future plans. Katya arrived about 15 minutes later. Man-oh-Manechevitz, was this girl beautiful. She couldn't have been more than 5-ft. tall, and had gorgeous blonde hair and blue eyes. She's a mezzo-soprano in the Dnepr opera company and arrived fresh from an afternoon's performance. She was hungry so we went to a café nearby that had Italian food. I told Katya a story about a woman I'd dated in NYC several years ago. I love opera and when I began dating this girl, she told me she was also a fan. So for her b-day I bought us partial season tix for the Metropolitan Opera Co. Needless to say it set me back some serious change. The first few performances were wonderful, but she bailed after a 5-hour Wagner Ring Cycle. "I don't really like opera," she confessed to me afterwards, "I just said it to impress you." Predictably, we weren't together much longer. I told this story in a humorous way, but Katya looked as if I'd just told her I lost all my relatives, along with a dozen fluffy white kittens and some baby penguins, in a house fire. I realize humor doesn't always translate well, but I wished I'd had Ira that night as I'm guessing something was lost in translation. 

As we worked our way through drinks and salad, I began to carry the brunt of the conversation, asking many questions and talking about my family, my job, my interests, etc. Katya told me that she'd always been the best student at school, had so many interests that she was never bored, and was absolutely in love with her job. She lives with her mom and dad, a single child, and it was obvious to me she came from a close family. I sometimes laugh when I see a girl describe herself as "well bred" since it's such an ambiguous statement, but in Katya's case it was quite obvious. I liked her, and she was one of the few women I met whom I instantly knew would thrive in New York City, but as the evening wore on I had to assume the brunt of the conversation. It might have been that she was tired from her earlier performance that day, but it might also have been that she wasn't interested in me. I asked her about her availability during the week, and she said she didn't know, that her director set their rehearsal schedule one day in advance. I thought that seemed a bit strange--did he also schedule performances at the opera theater one day in advance? I could imagine him madly plastering signs all over town, "Tonight Only: Don Giovanni!" like Jake and Elwood in The Blues Brothers[/i]. Katya invited me to a performance on Friday and a party afterwards, but Friday was five days away and it was pointless if I didn't know if I'd see her before then. As I walked her to her marshrutka she took my arm in hers, but by then I knew I wasn't going to be seeing her again.

After settling up with my terp, it was only 11PM so I walked up and down Karl Marx St., finally I decided to go to my fave café, Iceberg. I sat down and had a beer, but soon a group of young thugs came in, chased by another group. I wrote about this in another thread, but there was a big brawl and the militsya arrived and broke it up before anyone was seriously hurt. I had stood with my back to a wall and used my chair like a hockey stick and cross-checked anyone who came near me, but thankfully these guys were only interested in hurting each other. The militsya arrived within 10 minutes (and all the Ukrainian people I told this to were astonished they arrived so soon) and they are not like Sheriff Roscoe, think NYPD Blue[/i]'s Andy Sipowitz after binge-drinking. They let fly on these guys with no restraint and within seconds all the combatants were on the floor, subdued. I realize the wisest thing I could have done then was to leave quietly, but most of the other patrons remained after righting their tables and chairs, so I figured I'd do the same. 

Besides, I had half a beer left.

My stomach was grumbling again as I'd had only a salad at the café with Katya. In three days I'd consumed one full meal plus today's salad, and although I like to maintain my girlish figure I was in serious need of some chow. I walked a block to Karl Marx St. and went into the all-night market. My head said vareniki but since I couldn't read the labels and there were so many different types, my heart chose pizza. I bought two big frozen pizzas and raced back to my flat for a late-night snack. Unfortunately, I discovered that I didn't have an oven, only an electric thingee with two heating elements. Nice one, genius! I MacGyver'd it though and quartered the pizzas and heated each in a frying pan, covered tightly to keep the heat and moisture in. Say what you want about Americans, but we're a resourceful people and we're at our best when the chips are down or when we have a pizza Jones. I drifted off to sleep, marveling at how quickly my first two days had passed.

[KenC]

Groovlstk,

I am enjoying your posts.  Funny how I haven't heard some of your references in years. (For the love of Mike!, Man-oh-Manechevitz, )

KenC

[groovlstk]

Thanks Ken, I like old-timey expressions like that.

[groovlstk]

Day III

The previous night I had put a load of laundry into the washing machine in my flat. An hour later, when I went to bed, the thing was still running cycles. I tried to pause it but couldn't figure out how. For the next two hours this thing woke me up, periodically. I was like, "please God, when will it end?!" Every washing machine I've seen here in the US needs about 30 minutes for a full load of laundry, this think went on and on half the night!

Regardless, the next morning I was up before 9, and showered and dressed shortly thereafter. I thought the agency opened at 10 so I went to Grand Plaza, an upscale mall on Karl Marx St., and had a cup of coffee to pass the time. At 10 I walked to the agency but was turned away--although they had a full staff working, they weren't open to clients until noon. Blimey! So I went to the internet café and posted to RWD about my pugilist pals from the previous night and emailed my family and friends. I hated to waste time, so I went out walking along Karl Marx. Funny enough, I ran into Y, the girl who graciously found food for me in the small hours during my first night in Dnepr. She was walking to her office after meeting a client in the city center, so I told her I'd accompany her to pass the time. As we parted 20 minutes later, I asked her if she'd like to get together, again. I couldn't think of an answer to her simple question, "Why?", so I left it at that. Afterwards, I went back to the agency and humbly waited until 12:01 to enter. First thing I did was ask them to phone J and apologize for our failed meeting the day before. J was fine with it but she was working, so she offered to meet me at 6, and I agreed. But what would I do for the next six hours? The agency was able to schedule a meeting for me at 4. The girl, Eugenia, was a bit young at 24, but I was impressed with her resume. She sings in her church's choir and uses her free time working with homeless children. Despite a few similarities to a certain notorious nun-in-heat discussed in another thread, I was eager to meet her. 

I was happy to see that my terp, Ira, was off the DL and back in action. Eugenia arrived soon after and, like all the women I dated in Dnepr, she was breathtakingly beautiful. We went to a nearby café for coffee, and I went through my routine of showing my photo album and describing my life. Eugenia had a lot of questions and a batch of photos of her own that she wanted to show me. But already I'd made up my mind that she was too young for me. Before Eugenia arrived, I told Ira that I needed an extraction at 5:45 so that I wouldn't be late for my meeting with J, so we agreed on a story. On my first trip to Dnepr I'd made the mistake of being honest with a girl I liked about meeting other women, and it didn't go over so well and ruined the last day of my trip. Anyway, things worked out fine as Eugenia also had plans for the evening, so we parted pals and I wished her well. Ira chided me some as I'd told her on my first day that I really wasn't interested in girls under 30, and Eugenia was 24. I appreciated her openness and I'd solicited her opinion about girls I was dating from day one, so she felt comfortable being honest with me.

We rushed back to the office and thankfully J didn't arrive until five minutes later. I stood up and embraced her when she crossed the threshold and I could tell she was as happy to see me as I was to see her. Once again, she said she wasn't hungry so I was resigned to skipping dinner. My stomach complained but my wallet was happy. We went to a café called Sparta which was a good choice because it was quieter than Iceberg. Our seats faced a big aquarium with exotic fish darting around. I noticed one poor guy lying belly-up on the bottom of the tank, and made a mental note not to order the catch-of-the-day.

J had some loose photos to show me, and she also opened her wallet to show me photos of her parents. I was touched to see that she had my photo in one of the glassine slots, a tiny B&W shot that Cindy prints on the letters they distribute to each girl. (And in the back of my mind, I figured that if this was pure calculation, it was a nice move.) Our discussion on this night was more serious. Julia explained that she was not ready to leave her country, her job, her family, and friends. She was not ready to commit to a serious relationship. I calmly explained to her that I didn't expect to fall in love and propose marriage after a week together, and that seemed to calm her. She also explained that she needed to work, to feel independent, and I explained that I didn't want a stay at home wife, it's simply not practical in NYC. After we got past this hump, she asked me a series of odd questions, such as "How will you react if one of your friends comes to our flat without calling?" I explained that my friends never show up without phoning me first, but I came to understand that in Ukraine this isn't so common. People show up at the homes of their friends and relatives unannounced, it's not a violation of social etiquette like it is here. 

It was a good night, but I was a bit worried about her statement on not being ready for a serious relationship. Because of our language barrier, this could be interpreted differently. We agreed to meet the following evening. 

I saw Ira to a taxi, then went walking for an hour. Nadia, a friend I have in Dnepr, phoned me and agreed to meet for coffee the next morning at the Grand Plaza. I stopped off at the market for some supplies, then went back to my flat. I was a bit taken aback as there was a homeless guy sprawled out on the steps next to the door to my flat. Then again, he might have been a resident whose wife booted him out of their flat for being stinking drunk. Whatever the reason, I felt charitable and left him a loaf of cinnamon bread for when he awoke, no doubt with a raging hangover. I listened to some jazz and then crashed, feeling a bit panicky that I only had 3 1/2 days left.

[MandM]

Groovlstk,

I just love reading your TRs!

Just two quick comments: you've had such a busy schedule, I wonder how much weight have you lost by skipping meals every day?

And instead of leaving a cinnamon bread for a drunk man, why don't you leave him a bottle of beer next time? He will need it when he wakes up with a  hangover!

[philb]

[user=238]groovlstk[/user] wrote: My Ambien didn't work during my flight so I hadn't slept in about 24 hours and I refuse to eat airline food so the last nourishment I'd had was a Brooklyn Lager at JFK airport 15 hours earlier.

 

Man that is drag (about the Ambien).  FYI May repeat x's one unless your taking 20mg to begin with.  By the way that goes for the Lager too.  ;-) 

[Photo Guy]

...some of the other terps I've had are as bad as the professional daters when it comes to ordering food.

Groov,

About spending money at restaurants. I can think of the many meals
we enjoyed in the central section of Kyiv. I was often surprised at how little
food was ordered by Larisa and our interpreter, Natalie. I wondered if they
were EVER hungry, or maybe they were on a strict diet. As time went on, I
concluded that these two were making a conscious decision NOT to order
a lot of food or make expensive selections. Natalie directed me toward inexpensive
or mid-priced restaurants. It was her professional courtesy. I appreciated it.

Based on what you and others have written about your trips, it appears that
there are basically two kinds of women over there, who date foreigners.

1- Women who are careful enough to be frugal about their guy's spending.

What kind of RW is frugal about her 'rich' foreigner's money? An intelligent woman
who is interested in a long term relationship. She's smart enough to realize that a
man of 'quality' will be watching the way his RW handles his money. The motivation
could be altruistic and considerate, or just a deceptive means to an eventual green card.
It depends on the character of the woman.

2- Women who view her guy's spending as a perk, a short term gain for the
    taking.

This kind of woman is either unintelligent or misinformed or happy with quick
cash, as opposed to a long term relationship and everything that comes with it.
This type often believes the idea that all foreigners are truly 'rich', so she pushes
the limits of what he will give her.

What I am not sure about, is why some RW choose to treat a foreigner's
expenses as her own, as something precious, something not to be squandered.
I've seen this myself. Larisa has never refused my infrequent cash offers,
and yet she has never asked me for cash or gifts. I can tell she is walking a thin line.
She once told me she was thinking of getting a cell phone. I waited to see if she would
get one with her own money. A month later I got her one for her birthday. I am definitely
not playing the rich American with her, although her birthday present was an expensive
gift in her country. It's very tempting to throw money around as an easy way to impress
these women. !…Don't do it. (many reasons not to)

Keep this comforting thought in mind: Most RW/UW are naturally frugal -as a way of life.
Be sure to encourage that tendency, so that it might continue as much as possible,
in her new country.

[Preston]

Boy Mark

Just reading your story just makes me think dream right back to when I first met my wife in Dnepr! I also use Austrian Airlines from JFK to Dnepr! Wow Can't wait to go this summer back to visit my relatives in Dnepr! A little bit of an age dif. but all the same memories! I was only 25 when I visited! My wife and I still have her flat in Dnepr which is paid for and her sister keeps it up and cleans it as it sits empty! Wow, Can't wait to go back! Good topic love reading about your trip Mark

Preston Natasha

[groovlstk]

Just two quick comments: you've had such a busy schedule, I wonder how much weight have you lost by skipping meals every day?

And instead of leaving a cinnamon bread for a drunk man, why don't you leave him a bottle of beer next time? He will need it when he wakes up with a  hangover!

I lost some weight during my trip, but I had a 1-day layover in Austria and I stuffed myself silly.

And about leaving the homeless guy a beer--hey, the beer I had was mine, and I have limits to my charity

[groovlstk]

Thanks Preston,

When you return I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. I was last there in April, and on my recent trip I was stunned at the amount of new construction and renovation going on. There's a lot of $$ in Dnepr, although I'm sure it's spread out amongst a few corrupt oligarchs.

[groovlstk]

Day IV

I was up at 9 and decided to go shopping for an iron as my wardrobe was one big wrinkle. There's a big electronics store on Karl Marx I passed on my way to the agency, as expansive and with an inventory equivalent to any Best Buy here in the US. Many of the appliances were upscale--dozens of stainless steel-faced refrigerators, washers and dryers, and ovens; equivalent models go for thousands of dollars in the US. There's a lot of money in Dnepr, unfortunately it seems to be shared among a small group of corrupt businesspeople. I found the section where irons were for sale, and a cute salesgirl came over. I asked her if she understood English and was surprised that she did. I told her I wanted the cheapest iron in the house, but she steered me toward models that were priced 150 grivna and up. I told her it was a temporary iron, since I was going to use it only for a few days and had no intention of lugging it home as it was worthless in the US. She showed me another model that was 175 grivna, extolling it's 2-year warranty. Finally I just pointed to a model that was 65 grivna, the cheapest on the shelf. After I made my purchase, I was tempted to go back and ask the girl if she'd like to have dinner, but I figure she'd already adopted an attitude towards Americans and would likely steer me to an expensive restaurant if she agreed to meet me, so I left and went meet Nadia.

Nadia arrived at the Grand Plaza just after I did. She's a wonderful person and she speaks very good English. I told her about J and my other dates, and I asked if she'd like to have dinner with J and I in the coming days. While we were having coffee, I received an SMS from J saying she could meet me earlier today, around 2. I had Nadia phone her to get the details and I was supposed to meet her under the clock near the opera theater at 2. In case you're curious what the opera theater looks like, there's a web cam across the street, accessible here:

http://ukrtelecom.ua/ua/offers/web_cam/dnipro.html

I look at it every day to see what the weather is like and always I wish I was there.

When Julia arrived I introduced her to Nadia, and they hit it off immediately. I've noticed that Ukrainian woman are like this with each other, after five minutes together you'd think they'd been close friends for years. I can't say if it's genuine or not, but it's refreshing since in America women seem so catty and jealous with one another, and it takes time for them to build trust. I was in the mood for traditional Ukrainian food, so Nadia guided us to a restaurant off Karl Marx. It was pretty cool, they gave us our own room with a big table and some comfy chairs. I immediately noticed that J was much friendlier and open with Nadia than with Ira. I guessed it was because she knew Nadia was my friend so she wanted to make a good impression. I ordered borscht and they asked me to take a photo of it, for posterity. 

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

It was tasty but a little oily to my taste. The best borscht I had was at the home of a girl I met on my last trip, made by her mom. We drank a lot of vodka and ate sala and vareniki. I began to feel a bit bad for Nadia, since we were jabbering so much that she was constantly interpreting and hardly had a chance to touch her food. The time flew by and suddenly it was 9PM--I couldn't believe we'd been there for nearly 7 hours. Nadia had to leave, so I phoned Ira to see if she could spend a few hours with us, but Ira was sick again. So we decided to call it a night and I once again walked J to her marshrutka. She invited me to join her at her office the next day, Wednesday., at 3 for a birthday party.

I wasn't tired so I stopped off at Iceberg for a beer on my way back to my flat. When I entered, I saw the same bartender that was there the night of the brawl and I did some shadowboxing and yelled "Klitschko!", and he cracked up. (The Klitschko brothers are famous Ukrainian boxers.) The bartender pointed to the wall on the other side of the room where a rock had hit during the brawl, and there was an appreciable hole in the plaster. Thank God it hadn't been someone's head.

[Preston]

Yeah I Can Imagine

My wife went back this last summer and said it had changed allot since the last time we went together which was the summer of 2003! I met her at a club were she worked (she kind of gets upset when we meet new people and they say, Oh you guys met over the net! LOL! She replies real fast!) Anyways, Yeah can't wait to go this summer! Plan on staying for 2 months and got a little one for the relatives to spend time with! I tell you one thing its nice to have your own flat when you return to Ukraine!

Preston

[anono]

hey mark, great TR, makes me laugh a lot too...

 

[jb]

Groov,

You really should give some thought to writing professionally.  I think you'd do well with a decent story line.

[groovlstk]

Thanks jb, I spent five years early in my career writing for a magazine, unfortunately it pays peanuts unless you make a name for yourself and can work freelance.

I've thought of contacting a "men's" magazine like Maxim and pitching a TR as an article, as I'm sure their audience would love it (as long as there are lots of cleavage photos). But then we'd have a wave of genuine morons heading to Russia and Ukraine.

[anono]

 But then we'd have a wave of genuine morons heading to Russia and Ukraine.

don't do it. they are already here. we'd just have more of them.

[groovlstk]

Day V
[/b]

I was set to meet J under the clock at the opera theater at 3 and walk over to her office nearby, as one of her colleagues had a birthday and she wanted me to attend a party at her office. That left me with morning and most of the afternoon free, so I walked over to the agency at noon. The gorgeous translator I liked was there, and I showed her my photos of my neighborhood and family, and soon all the other girls in the office were gathered around. Unfortunately I'd found out from Ira that the translator was only 22, almost half my age, so I reluctantly concluded that she was eligible for flirting but not much else.


I asked Katya to line up something for me but as I expected, most girls weren't available until 5 or 6PM. However, one girl worked nearby and agreed to meet me for 30 minutes. "When?" I asked Katya. "Now," she replied. I wasn't prepared or dressed for the occasion--I was wearing a cut-off Michigan State football jersey, circa 1980. The girl, Natalia, was 27, a bit young for me but in our first few minutes together I immediately sensed she was mature beyond her years. Much more mature than Eugenia, the girl I'd met on my third day in-country. She was very beautiful and when she smiled her face lit up and it was impossible not to smile back. I showed Natalia my photos and she deliberated carefully over each, asking many questions. I could tell she was very interested in me. When she came to a photo of me in Krakow, she asked if she could keep it. I was flattered and immediately agreed. A girl I'd met earlier asked me if she could keep a photo of the NYC skyline, taken from near my apartment, as a keepsake from our meeting and although I agreed, I wrote her off in that moment. Hey, I know I'm not nearly as photogenic as the NYC skyline, but still… Natalia wanted to know if we could meet that evening, and I hesitated a moment. I'd already agreed to meet J for her office party and if I blew her off I might not get to see her again. On our last date, I discovered that J believed I'd come to Dnepr to meet her, and only her. I found her naiveté touching (or in the event she was jobbing me, I had to at least give credit). Decisions, decisions. With regret and a few misgivings, I told Natalia that I had plans that evening. She then asked if we could meet the following night, and I asked her for her mobile #, which she gladly provided.


On the walk back to the agency I complained to my terp that I had too little time and it was working against me because I'd have really liked to see Natalia again, but if things went well with J that afternoon I'd probably book another evening with her.


I went back to my flat, showered and changed, and hit the i-net café before leaving to meet J. I arrived a few minutes early, but soon J came running up to me. We embraced and kissed… and I realized it was the first time we were alone together, without a terp. It was kind of nice, regardless that we had no idea what the other was saying. She took my arm and we walked to her office, which was only a few blocks away on Karl Marx St. We were greeted by five other females and one man, and the man spoke decent English so he served as our terp. His name was Eugene, he was a professional boxer years ago and he trained in the US for awhile. He told me he rents a flat in Brooklyn and because it's rent-controlled, he continues to pay the rent even when he's in Ukraine for fear of losing it. Eugene's wife, Nina, was the owner of the real estate agency, so by local standards they must have been very well off. Eugene's Brooklyn apartment must cost them at least $500 per month, probably much more. Later, J explained to me that Nina was at one time the lover of the agency's original owner and they lived together for several years. Unfortunately she fell out of love with him and left him. He decided that he couldn't remain in the same city as her, knowing that he still loved her, so he presented her ownership of the agency as a gift and struck off north to Kiev to start over again. J sat me down in a chair at a long table, and all the other women sat opposite me, staring and smiling at me and asking me questions as if I were Elvis Presley. Two of the girls were in their early 20s, while the rest were 30 and up. Eugene explained to me that it was his birthday they were celebrating, but his birthday was two weeks previous. He confided that J used his b-day as a pretense to introduce me to her colleagues. I was touched, since she counted Nina and two of the other girls among her very best friends.

The party broke up at six, and I'd arranged for J and I to meet Ira at the Reporter café. It was a cold night and we were about ten minutes late. Ira phoned, waiting outside Reporter, and I told her to go in and get a table and have some tea while she waited for us. She refused, not wanting to appear as if she was dining alone. What a strange girl! We arrived and got a table, and J ordered cognac and cake, while Ira asked me for permission to order tea. I ordered piva and potato pancakes, which were very good. Again, J was very different with Ira then she'd been with Nadia. J explained that Nina, her boss, urged her to take the rest of the week off so that she had more time to spend with me. J also said that Nadia had phoned her and invited us both to lunch at her flat, so I was now booked for tomorrow, Thursday. I felt a moment's regret that I wouldn't be meeting Natalia, again.


Of all the places in Dnepr that I've visited, I have to say that the café in Reporter is the best place for girl watching. I couldn't believe the sheer number of beautiful women who entered, almost always alone or with other women, occasionally with men. I thought back to my panic on my 2nd day in Dnepr, when I was worried because I was having trouble lining up a date. What a numbskull! I should have simply gotten a terp and hung out at Reporter in the afternoon/evening and freelanced.    


I asked for the check around midnight. During previous trips, I'd always made a point to tip 15%, just as I do in the US. I realize it's not a custom in Ukraine, but I did it out of sheer habit and good will. However, on this trip I simply rounded up the bill to the nearest few grivna, and it was never a problem. I realize now that excessive tipping only reinforces the image of us being easy marks. I thought of my last trip, of my girl V's constant "not necessary!" comments, and realized she was at least partially right.


J told me that her mom was going to make a special dish for our lunch with Nadia tomorrow, Salenka. She explained it was a soup that was similar to borscht.


I walked her to her marshrutka stop, and paid Ira. As usual, I was hungry so I went to the all-night market. I decided to get some vareniki. Unfortunately, there's one type of vareniki I dislike, it has a sweetish cheese inside, but all the others I enjoy. So I figured if I bought two different varieties, I was bound to like at least one. Sure enough, the first batch I boiled up was the ill-tasting cheesy type. Gah! I said a prayer and tried the second bag, and thankfully it was the potato variety I enjoy. I had started a load of laundry, my whities, just before I left my flat that morning, and I glowered at the machine, daring it to start another cycle and keep me awake yet another night, but thankfully it was finished. The weather had turned cold and my flat was freezing. As I huddled under the covers before sleep, shivering, I realized that I was putting all my eggs in one basket, and I hoped I was doing the right thing.

[Todd]

What were you doing with a MSU football jersey circa 1980's?  Did you go there?  I was there from 1985 to 1989.

Go Spartans!...

[Photo Guy]

Groov,
Excellent 'pro' writing. Keep it coming.

Putting all of your eggs in one basket, eh? Sometimes that works.
...Are you feeling lucky?

You've spent a lot of time in Dnepr. You've become the RWD expert on that city. For sure.

I'm glad to see you've reigned back your over-tipping. If I went back to Ukraine, I'd also try the 'freelance' approach with a terp. I think it's a good idea, for those who aren't too shy.

[groovlstk]

Day VI
[/b]
Although the previous night couldn't have been warmer than 40 degrees, when I opened the door to my balcony I was surprised to see a few mosquitoes come flying in, as if they'd waited all night outside my window for a chance to cash in on my hospitality. On my previous trip, a girl I was with gave me this thingamajig that plugged into an electrical outlet and slowly burned and gave off fumes that were supposed to kill mosquitoes. I wondered briefly why we didn't have such devices in the US until it occurred to me that the fumes are probably as toxic as all Hell.


I woke up around 8AM and sent J an SMS, asking her when she wanted to meet. We were scheduled to head to Nadia's flat for lunch at 2, but I figured we could spend the morning and early afternoon together, without a terp. J wrote back "sorry I busy" which puzzled me. I had coffee at Celentano's, and sent her another SMS asking when she wanted to meet. She wrote back, "2 at opera theater." Hmmph, here she was, with a day off from work yet she was too busy to meet me until early afternoon? I decided she couldn't be all that committed to me since I had only one more full day in Dnepr, and if she really liked me she'd want to spend every possible moment together. Regretfully, I sent her SMS telling her I had other plans, now. I hated doing it but on my previous two trips I had wasted time with girls that I knew weren't part of my future, and I had vowed never to do that again… even if I had 2 hours left on the ground I'd work it right up until I boarded my plane. It was sort of a siege mentality, but I couldn't shake it. And although J and I had been together for at least 4 hours each day for the past six days, we'd rarely been alone and the only affection we shared were hello/goodbye kisses and hand-holding.


I walked over to the agency and asked Katya to line 'em up again. I explained my predicament with J and Katya thought I was being too hasty. She phoned Natalia again, but Natalia was unable to meet then but was available in the evening. Then, I got a call from Nadia, whom J had called after I cancelled our date. Nadia claimed that J was upset and confused. She'd spent all morning making Selanka with her mom for our luncheon at two. Oops, nice one, doofus! I asked Nadia to phone her and apologize for me. Thankfully, Nadia called back a minute later to say that J was waiting for me at the opera theater.


So I apologized to Katya, high-tailed it to the opera theater, and embraced and kissed J. She took my hand and we walked to a taxi stand. Ten minutes later we were at Nadia's flat. She lives on the city's outskirts, in a very nice neighborhood. Her building was typical for Ukraine housing but inside she'd done an amazing job decorating. Her flat was very large, and she decorated it in a truly funky manner, with purple floors, pink walls, and lots of matching murals. I told her that her flat would fetch a cool $2 million in Manhattan, and she seemed pleased. J went right to the kitchen and started making belinis, which she stuffed with potatoes or cheese (yes, that same sweet cheese I can't stand! I had a few bad moments when I couldn't tell which pancake had which filling, but I only erred once and I hid that sucker in a napkin). J presented me with a gift, and she had prepared a little speech to explain it to me. Inside the box was a small onyx elephant. "Hmm, does she think I'm fat?" was my initial reaction. J is a very superstitious girl, even more so than the typical Ukrainian woman, who is about 10x more superstitious than American girls. She told me elephants were her favorite animal because of their strength and intelligence. She told me if I put the elephant on my desk at work, I'd be protected from my enemies and would have good luck. I figured the thing was heavy enough to use as a weapon against my enemies, if any came knocking.


We were together for six hours, and I didn't want to tax Nadia's hospitality so I told her we'd be on our way. I phoned Ira but she was sick again. But then I decided it was time for J and I to spend some quality time alone. She had a dictionary, I had enough Russian from my Pimsleur language CDs to get by, so we took a taxi back to my flat. J told me we needed provisions, so we went to the all-night market and she picked up some vareniki, vodka, and fruit juice.


Upon entering, J immediately went to the kitchen area and began washing dishes. The pan in which I'd sautéed pizza a few nights earlier was in bad shape, with pizza crust fused to the surface. I also had a sink full of pots and pans and such. I figured I'd get around to doing dishes one of these days. In between cleaning, J found time to pour us some vodka and juice, and we alternated toasts, using our dictionaries to explain the basic gist. In all our meetings, J always insisted that the third toast was for love, and after toast #5 we were both feeling no pain. I had a Russian phrase book and I paged through it and read random phrases to her. When I announced "I am pregnant" in Russian, she laughed uproariously. J spied my cam on the dresser and asked me to take some photos of her. She sat on my balcony's railing, which nearly gave me a cardiac since we were five stories up, then posed for me on my sofa. After, I showed her the photos in the cam's LCD display. She wrested the cam from my hands after seeing how I advanced the frames.


Big mistake.


She came across a photo of me with my arm around another girl, and pointed to it and angrily asked me something in Russian. I didn't need my pocket translator to know what she was asking...  I tried to explain to her that it was a girl I met early in my trip (Eugenia), before I decided to spend all my time with her. Of course she was unable to understand me. So she stood up and walked to the opposite side of the room and stood facing the wall with her back towards me. It was almost comically melodramatic, but she was obviously upset. I went to her and kissed the back of her neck and told her not to worry. She grabbed her dictionary and paged through it, finally pointing out the word "Jealous," in translation. I was secretly pleased, however, as suddenly J preferred my lap to her own seat. From that moment until we parted at the airport, she couldn't keep her hands off me.


However, not all was well that evening. J tried explaining something to me about her failed marriage. I later came to know, with the help of our terp, that her husband was 5 years younger than she was, and he cheated on her. When she discovered his infidelity, it was all over. I couldn't understand much that evening, but I knew she was talking about her marriage. At one point, suddenly she buried her head in my chest and began to cry. I held her and tried to calm her, but she cried harder and harder. Deep sobs from within that come only from grief and great pain. Sure she'd had too much vodka, but my initial impressions of a strong, independent, and confident woman were changed after that. But it wasn't a bad impression; I was touched to see that beneath her façade she was vulnerable. But of course a red flag bloomed and I worried that she was still on the rebound and not really ready for a relationship.  


Afterwards we fell asleep in each other's arms.

[philb]

[user=134]Photo Guy[/user] wrote:

I'm glad to see you've reigned back your over-tipping. If I went back to Ukraine, I'd also try the 'freelance' approach with a terp. I think it's a good idea, for those who aren't too shy.

"Freelancing" with an interpreter?  Think about it... I don't think it is possible.  To truely "freelance" you have to either learn Russian or (and this is definitely a second choice) only communicate with those who speak English.

[Bruno]

On my previous trip, a girl I was with gave me this thingamajig that plugged into an electrical outlet and slowly burned and gave off fumes that were supposed to kill mosquitoes. I wondered briefly why we didn't have such devices in the US until it occurred to me that the fumes are probably as toxic as all Hell.

Myself, i use "Prima" cigarette... one cigarette and all  mosquitoes in the room are dead... and if you are lucky, yourself are always living...

For smoker like me, never try the "prima"... only russian can smoke it... it is the perfect killing cigarette.

[Wayne]

Hey, Todd and Mark!

I am a Spartan Alumnus.  Spent a total of eight years, undergrad and grad there.  Went on a Rose Bowl trip.  Any other Spartans?

Great trip report!  I like your writing style.  Sounds like J is interested in you. 

You probably noticed no insect screens on the windows in Ukraine, Russia, Poland? 

I have made three tips to Eastern Europe, staying in Crimea, Ukraine, Poland, Siberia, Turkey and an overnight in London.  I was in Warsaw in Summer and there are many beautiful women walking around there.  Many artists selling work on the streets and playing music for coins. 

Ukrainian and Russian women that I have met seem to get jealous even if you just look at another woman.  Perhaps this is because the men they have known tend to be unfaithful? 

Hope to hear more of you trip report.