small culture shock

Small Culture ShockThursday October 22, 2009 Today I go to the Ukraine to begin my next tour. No late sleeping for me as my shuttle back to the airport was arriving at 6 a.m. to get me. He actually got there early and I am sitting in the back seat, tightly belted, and hoping I get there safely as being in the clutches of an Istanbul driver is akin to running in front of the bulls at Pamplona. Luckily we did make it safely. How many times can I press my luck there?? I like Istanbul Ataturk Airport. It has a lot of stuff going on. First my driver wheels around all the parked and unloading cars and roars down to about midpoint in the terminal entrances. He carries my two bags over to the curb and I thank him and he points out which door to enter. I think he was actually doing me a favor because you must send your entire luggage through a security check just to get into the terminal and he had put me at a check point that was fairly empty. I load all my stuff onto the conveyer and walk through. I had forgotten that my phone was on my belt so had to go back and take it off and then I got through. As I am picking up my stuff and putting it away, a security lady says, "Just a minute please." So I wait for her attention. She says she would like to look in my red bag. This bag is my fold-up bag that I carry and pull out for emergencies, like loading all my Uzbekistan purchases into it and leaving it in left luggage. That was my plan. I had forgotten that my purchases included a souvenir knife. She says, “Do you have a big knife?” Well, it isn't that big but that clued me in as to why I was being detained and I affirm her question, open my bag and pull it out for her inspection. She says, “Are you going to put this in your checked luggage?” What a question! This is one of those times when I would love to say, “why yes, and I’m sure I’ll get past all the other security checks with it.” But as that would get me in serious trouble, I told her that my plans were really to leave it in left luggage. So she gives it back to me and wishes me a good flight and thanks for coming and all that. We are now best of friends and she reminds me as I leave not to carry it onboard. My flight is already checking in but then all Turkish airline flights are checking in. I walk to the other end of the terminal and get in the shorter line but Turkish airlines are actually fairly efficient at getting people through the line quickly which is amazing when you see how many people come with 4 and 5 suitcases for two people plus an astonishing amount of very oddly sized parcels. While in line, I take the knife out of the bag I hope to leave behind and put it into the bag I will check. This is just in case I am unable to leave the bag behind. I figure I’ll carry it along with me rather than lose it to security. Checked in, I have plenty of time to go downstairs and find the left luggage so do so. This is why I like Ataturk airport. There are all kinds of shops and stores and a post office and drugstore all in the departure area before you go through security. So many airports have nothing at all before security so if you are stuck there for awhile before your gate opens, you have nothing to do. Here I could browse through the drug store, mail items, check rates on hotels and rent cars and a number of other things as well. Not my intention to spend all my time outside of passport control so I go back upstairs and through to the departure area. As I’ve stated before, I like to go into duty free and sample some of the cosmetics. This airport is getting smart though with the most expensive ones. While it looks like they have samples out, the jars are clean as can be. A fake. Some breakfast down at the food court and a book at the book shop, a look at the old bazaar but prices are all pretty stiff and I’ve been in Turkey enough times not to need any more souvenirs from here. Finally the board shows that my flight says “Wait in lounge” which essentially means the same as go to your gate. No worries there either. Then by some unwritten signal, everyone stands up and goes down the jet way to the plane. I do too but when we get to the end, they will not let us on the plane yet. We stand for a few minutes and then an announcement comes that it will be another 5 minutes at least so go back to the lounge and wait. Crap. Everybody does but about 6 of us that just stand there. I figure if they are really bothered by us being there, someone will shepherd us out but in a couple of minutes they let us onto the plane. Good flight but as we are descending into Kiev, I notice that the whole place seems rather hazy. Landing and taxing to the gate and it is still hazy. Hmmm. I get my luggage, go get some cash, find my driver – who doesn’t speak English – and we are away to the city. Hazy all the way into Kiev and as we are coming into the city we are passing many factories on the outskirts that are belching smoke into the air. Maybe it’s not haze but pollution. The sun is trying to shine but not being successful. Finally we get past the hazy part and into the main part of the city and it’s a bit better but I am seeing a lot about this place that seems a bit depressing and so totally different from just coming from Uzbekistan where it was sunny, albeit very dusty, warm to hot and the only outstanding buildings were the ancient monuments. Here I am seeing many Soviet style apartment blocks but some more modern buildings as well. We turn a corner and there is a mammoth silver looking statue on a hill. I’m sure I will visit it on the tour. My driver gets deeper into the city and finally parks the car. We get out; go around the corner and into an alleyway. We are standing in a private car park in front of a door with a keypad. I had been sent the code to get into the apartment building but we had to wait for the key. All this is without a word between us. The key comes and we find that the door is depressingly hard to punch in the code and get it open but it does open. Here’s where I realize I might have made a mistake in requesting to stay in apartments rather than hotels. No lift and 4 flights of stairs. He carries up my suitcase and I am darn sure going to let my next driver carry it down as well. He opens the door, ushers me in, asks for the money I was supposed to pay on my first day and starts to leave. I stop him and pantomime and ask “what time tomorrow?” He makes a call and is able to tell me 9. OK, I am in Kiev, alone, in an apartment, with no idea where I am, no food, no internet, but I have a washing machine. Luckily I have been in apartments like this before so I also figure out I have to plug in the water heater if I want any hot water. The time to go out and explore is definitely now before it gets dark so I head back down the stairs and wander around my neighborhood. It seems that I have landed in a very expensive neighborhood. The women are all superbly dressed and coiffed and made up. The boots are expensive and most go up to the knees at least, some up to the thighs. The coats are fur in many cases. Of course the men all look like they are probably Russian mafia. Oh what a lovely place. My first thought is I should get some lunch now and then hopefully find some food for dinner and something for breakfast. The first place I wander into turns out to be a sushi bar so I wander out again quickly. The next place is a cafeteria. Oh, that I like. I find a salad that has recognizable bits, a soup that appears to be mostly potatoes and veggies and then I am seeing what looks like a potato ramekin so I go for it rather than the blennies but it turns out to be something else that is neither good nor bad but rather just odd. After lunch I wander around some more and end up in a mall. I do need a pair of sunglasses as mine were dropped on the last day in Samarkand and broken but certainly I am not going to find a pair in a mall where the shops are Dunhill, Tiffany, Brooks Brothers, Christofle, and other expensive stores. Back on the street I do find kiosks that sell drinks and candy and such. One is selling pastries so I point to three, one that looks like a pizza, and one that looks like Danish and one just because. Going back to the apartment, I stop for water at a closer kiosk and she has an electronic lock on her outside refrigerator. Once I point at it, she unlocks it for me to get my water. I climb back up the four flights of stairs and do my laundry. That is going to be all the exploring I do today. Tomorrow I have a tour and I’ll get the lay of the land, hopefully will find an internet because I do NOT want to have to upload everything all at once again at the end of this tour. Still have my photos to upload from the last tour. I do hope I will like the Ukraine as much as I liked Uzbekistan. So far it is not looking like it but I will keep an open mind.