goodbye lenin...

Saturday, May 10, 2008












Last day in Kiev. Alan took the afternoon off and we romped around the city looking for trouble. Two days before Victory Day, one of the most celebrated of Soviet holidays, and we passed by a group of veterans coming out of some memorial celebration. We stopped an obvious war hero (note the medals) and asked if we might take a picture with him. He was elated, to say the least.
Lots of pictures of Independence Square. They had the fountains on and tons of people were out enjoying the sun. A statue of Lenin with flowers around the base. Go figure.
A very popular Kievan snack is the "perepechka," a hot dog buried inside thick, fried dough. I took a picture of the most popular place to get them and you can see the Ukrainians lined up at the window. They go for about 65 cents.
I had to read Bulgakov in one of my Russian lit classes. We visited his house and monument.
Also, some Ukrainian government building next to St. Michael's Orthodox temple. The story goes that a while back the government wanted to build a second parliament building next to and mirroring the current one. So they tore down the original St. Michael's temple which had stood for hundreds of years. In short, they began building the government building, ran out of funds, tore it down, and decided to rebuild the temple. And here it is. Painted blue. (The story reminds me of so many half-finished building projects in Far East Russia. Poor planning? A rapidly fluctuating economy? Or maybe just a persisting Soviet mentality? I don't know. But the situation, as comical as it is, isn't unusual.)

confusion, causes célèbres, and spinning apologia

To be nothing in the self-effacement of humility, yet, for the sake of the task, to embody its whole weight and importance in your bearing, as the one who has been called to undertake it. To give to people, works, poetry, art, what the self can contribute, and to take, simply and freely, what belongs to it by reason of its identity. Praise and blame, the winds of success and adversity, blow over such a life without leaving a trace or upsetting its balance. 
Towards this, so help me, God--
[Dag Hammarskjold]
if my thought-dreams could be seen, they'd probably put my head in a guillotine. 
but it's alright, ma, it's life and life only...

  © Blogger templates Newspaper by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP