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Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Shashlik at Marta's

Monday - last day in the Ukraine. One month is not enough. Church was full today for Holy Day (I think maybe Pentecost??). The choir sung today, very beautiful. There are 14 people in the choir (Klara said one man in the choir was still drunk from the night before).






At the end of Liturgy, Father Banik said "Good Bye" to the people of Dravtsi for me , and delivered a short "Thank You" from me to the people of Dravtsi for being so warm, friendly, and hospitable. Then all the people sang "Mnogaja Lita" to me. After church let out, many of the people came up to say goodbye to me, and talk to me - the Djaks, the Alter Boys, and others - Several people told me about relatives they had in America. People I didn't even know were inviting me over to their homes for coffee before I left. Klara had to drag me away to get back home for lunch.

We went to Marta's for lunch; everyone was there - Marta, Klara, Misha, Natalya, Tanya, Julius, Natalka, Pavlo. Soup, salads, bread, potatoes, some meat (maybe goat), holubtsi, deserts, wine, cognac, vodka, beer. Marta has portable pool that she set up and filled with water near her garden. Jusie (Julius) and I went swimming in the pool; we had been having unusually hot weather, and the water felt great.


A word about my relatives drinking: they think nothing of having a small glass of wine at every meal - even at breakfast they might have some wine. And at lunch or dinner, they might even have vodka or Cognac. But I've never seen any of them drunk. They're very moderate. Reminds me of French or Italian culture. (I've seen other people drunk, but not my relatives).

Jusie and Tanya's house was only a short way away in Baranintsi, so we went to see it. Really nice, modern looking home. It's 60 years old, but looks like it was built yesterday. Jusie and Tanya bought their home 15 years ago, for $18,000 US Dollars; said today it would sell for $100,000. Lots of land, too. Jusie's garden stretches out behind the house the length of several football fields. It's hard to judge acreage, because it's a very long but narrow strip. Jusie's a long-distance bus driver; I don't know how he has time to drive bus, there is so much work to be done at his garden and orchards. Jusie's garden is large enough that he pays to have it tilled by machine.














After lunch, I caught the bus into Uzhgorod to spend my last afternoon in the city. Wandered around the city center, sat at a couple of outdoor cafes, had a few beers, and just watched people going by. I found a couple of new shops selling handmade and hand embroidered rushnik, tablecloths, shirts and dresses. If you're ever in Uzhgorod, go to "Vishyvanka". Roman Filipishin, the owner, has a fantastic selection. I asked him about who his customers were (I thought maybe mostly American tourists), but Roman said that 95% of his customers were Ukrainians. A few Russians. He said he had ever only one sale to North America, and that was to Canada.





I had to run into a drug store to get away and hide from a begging Gypsy woman. This one was really persistent. She followed me even after I told her several times I had no money. Then to convince her I had no money, I told her I paid for everything with Mastercard. Big mistake. Now she wants me to go to an ATM and withdraw some money for her. I ducked into the drugstore and told the counter girls what was happening, and they shooed heer away for me.

Stopped at the "Mir Cafe" to say goodbye to Anatol, Alla, and Aileen. They weren't there, but one of the girls working there got Aileen on the phone for me. Aileen was heading out to Lake Karyel at the Radvanka Quarry and invited me to go along. I would have loved to, but Klara and everyone had planned a goodbye party for me at Marta's.

The party was at Marta's little picnic shelter in her back yard. They cooked shashlik (skewers of marinated pork) and krumpli (potatoes) drizzled with salo. Elizabeth was there, her daughter Natalya and husband Josef. Elizabeth gave me a beautiful little embroidered rushnik, which had been made by Josef's mother, long ago. Elizabeth was crying when I had to say goodbye.







Back at Klara's, put on headphones to listen to some music before bed; before I knew it, Klara was waking me up at 3AM to get ready for the train. I had my suitcases packed with souvenirs, and was planning on leaving most of my clothes behind. Klara insisted I take them; somehow managed to squeeze most of my clothes in. Marta's Misha picked my up in his "Zhiguli"; Marta and Klara went along to the train station at Chop. Klara bought my train ticket for me - she bought me a ticket for a sleeper car. I tried to see how much it cost; not sure, but I think it was about $40 US (but I could be wrong).

At the station, both Marta and Klara were crying when I left. Everyone at the station went out of their way to be friendly. Going through the Ukraine customs line, they just looked at my passport, had me set my suitcases on a table but didn't even open them! Since the lady Customs Officer saw that I was an American, she actually walked me out to the train and made sure I got on the right car.

I had the sleeping car all to myself; it's built to sleep 3. This train was much better than the Uzhgorod - to- L'viv train. Very modern. I don't think it had air conditioning, but had windows that could open for ventilation. Was really comfortable. The train sat for quite a long time before starting out. I think they might have been changing the wheel assemblies on the train cars, because the tracks are different gauges in Hungary and Ukraine. I had fallen asleep, and was woken up by a Hungarian Customs Officer. He just looked at my passport, asked if I had any cigarettes or alcohol, and stamped my passport. Can't wait to see what happens at Customs in New York.

When the train arrived at the station in Budapest, I found out that the train station was about 20 miles from the airport. I had to hire a taxi for about $40 US; my driver was a nice old guy that pointed out some sites to me. He showed me the street where 400 Soviet tanks came down in 1956. He was 16 at the time, and watched as people where throwing Molotov cocktails at tanks, and tankers were raking buildings with machine gun fire.

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