The Adventures of
The Hagele Family & Friends

Glenn Goes To Russia...Again
Take Two, Scene 6
Originally sent Tue 7/31/01

Despite all the planning in a trip like this, it is important to be flexible. You never know what opportunity may be offered and where you will find yourself. I found myself again in Kiev. Of course, it was a lovely woman who enticed me there.

I began to tell you about Victoria. At the end of my last message, Victoria and I were attempting to make arrangements to meet on Sunday. She decided to drive from Kiev to Odessa on Saturday afternoon to be able to visit with me. This is 500 kilometers, or about a seven hour drive on Ukrainian roads. After checking into her favorite room at her favorite hotel (Victoria travels to Odessa often on Avon business) she came to my flat and we talked all evening. Victoria is a marvelous person, full of energy, very intelligent, and quick with a smile. Her eyes are both blue and gray. Gray when she is upset or angry, blue when she is happy or contented. They seemed to be perpetually blue.

Even though Victoria's English is limited, we seem to be able to communicate very well. I can see her frustration as she attempts to talk to me in English. I know little Russian, but I can tell from the manner and intonation when she speaks in the Russian language to others that this is an articulate and clever woman. It is frustrating for her to not be as eloquent in English as she is in Russian. To converse is a slow process, but we were afforded several additional hours of conversation because I decided to return with her to Kiev. If you really want to get to know someone, take a seven hour drive with her.

The road from Odessa to Kiev is much like any mid-western American highway. In most areas it is four lanes, in others it is two, in nearly all areas it is uneven and full of obstacles of bumps, holes, and ridges. No one will accuse the road to Kiev as being the autobahn, but we really did not mind. As the rolling hills of the surrounding farms passed by, we spent the hours discussing family, friends, life, loves, what we want for ourselves, and what we may want from each other. As I drove Victoria's new Opel Kadette toward the north, I marveled at these lands where my family once lived and farmed. If my third great grandparents had not decided that America was better than Russia, this is where I would probably have been born.

Like much of Ukraine life, farming is a lesson in dichotomy. In the same field where the most recent model of harvester is automatically cutting, threshing, and storing ample amounts of grain, a horse drawn cart carries supplies down the road. In all aspects of life here, you will find everything as modern as America today and everything as ancient as America circa 1930. Both will be working side-by-side in apparent harmony.

As an evening lightening storm passed us to the distant east, the sun setting low in the west cast a brilliant light upon the fields of sunflowers. Ukrainians absolutely love sunflowers. Cooking oil is not from fat, vegetables, or corn, it is from sunflowers. Every other vendor is selling roasted sunflower seeds. Where our mid-west has grain as far as you can see, Ukraine is grain between fields of sunflowers. With the orange of the setting sun to our west, the deep purple of the heavy weather to our east, and the brilliant yellow of the evening sun hitting the fields of sunflowers in between, we skirted the edge of the oncoming storm. The sound of distant thunder punctuated our words. The smell of warm rain on hot asphalt filled the car through open windows. The music I had given Victoria on the train when we first met surrounded us and filled the silence between conversations. The experience on the road to Kiev was...in a word...wonderful.

All along the highway are local vendors selling their wares. This will range from kiosks grouped to create a small market to individuals sitting at the side of the road with a single bucket of fruit or vegetables. As we neared Kiev I saw a young girl sitting alone next to two buckets of apricots. I turned the car around and returned to where she patiently waited for a willing buyer.

To say there is poverty in Ukraine is not exactly accurate. Yes, there are those with very little money, but poverty in the realm of a third world country is not what you will find. People may not have much, but they do have enough and they take pride in what they have. You will find that 'things' are much less important here than people. Friends and family are the assets most coveted. A foolish American may have seen this waif of a girl as stricken by poverty. Not me. She may have more riches than I.

It seemed that this odd man who spoke an odd language at once engaged and frightened the girl about the age of 10. Victoria translated as I asked if she had picked these apricots herself. She had. I asked how long she had been waiting to sell them. About an hour. A price of 18 Grivna (about $3.50) was set for both buckets and as Victoria and I poured several hundred apricots into a plastic bag she had retrieved from the trunk of her car, I produced a 20 Grivna note knowing that this young girl would not be able to make change. No problem. As we were ready to load all these apricots for which we really had no purpose, I gave our green eyed vendor one of my cards and through Victoria told her that if she ever visited California, be sure to look me up. I can imagine some day I will receive a telephone call; "Hi. Do you remember me? About ten years ago you bought some fruit from me on the road to Kiev and said I should call you if I ever..."

Glenn