Adventures of Epik and Mepi

2007-08-21T22:07:00.000-07:00

yo, just keeping this blog alive for Flo. Cause we're back in S'toon. And back from planting. And both working away on computers at opposite ends of the city trying to get lives in order (guessing, but not accepting the impossibility of this feat). Then going again.

2007-06-07T08:10:00.001-07:00

Riding through the streets on rickety 10-speed rentals

A Romanian church...Eric repentant

oh yeah...you know, weird architecture

Dazed and confused

A printed fence outside an art school. These babushkas haven't changed in years.

Happy Eric on the Sea

Mosque in Constanta

central city in Constanta

Spot the beached whale

Beachcombing in front of the old communist playhouse

Well well well, writing this last entry minutes before jumping into the 1987 chevy van and heading northwest to...you'll never guess...Slave Lake Alberta. We've returned and are on the road once more, albeit a much more familiar road. Gone are the stilettos, zebra-apholstered Ladas, babushkas selling bruised apples on street corners and the constant street hustle of Ukraine. But before we sit and reminisce, there's one little voyage we want to share...Romania!!!

Realizing we had mere days left in the east, we hopped on a train that chugged oh-so-slowly southward to Bucharest. We stepped out of the train station and were welcomed by 40 degree heat, latin culture, old Europe city mixed with Ceaucescu opulence (and by opulence I mean gargantuous unfinished Romanesque palaces). Very very different from the slavic land only a few hundred km's away. Anyways, we blitzed through the city on a pair of bikes, weaving through the traffick-clogged streets and somehow fitting in a few luxury coffees and PASTAS! (Hey...we've had borscht and potatoes and instant coffee for 4 months straight...throw us a bone man!)

So much to say about Constanta, the old Greek city sitting on a peninsula that juts into the Black Sea. Massive port on one side, endless beach on the other, and streets that are "littered" with ancient Greek, Roman and Ottoman remains. (Mary signing off to shower - clean Eric signing in)

Well. More importantly, is that I got the chance to speak with some old relatives by the sea. That was incredible. We drank homemade wine and I heard all about the south east edge of europe in the 20th century. This trip was definitely worth it.

Now its off to northern alberta. The goal this season is to plant enough trees to pay for tuition for school next year. We shall see.

Anyways, my conclusions are to go to Ukraine if you get the chance. The story here is completely unwritten and i guarantee much food for thought. Central Europe is moving away and south europe is heading in the same direction but nobody knows where Ukraine will go. Not to mention that the people here will treat you very very well.

Hopefully see some of you soon.

Love Mary and Eric

Lviv!

2007-05-13T09:34:00.000-07:00

Some quick pictures of our day-trip to Lviv. I would have loved to give some backgrounder to this city. What site for WW2 history buffs! (not mention for students of nationalism). Alas, I'm too excited for the upcoming trip to Romania and just can't settle down to write. So here are some picks

Mary, Eric, and Masha at the top of Lviv Hill. Here Ukrainian UPA independence soldiers tried to fend off both the Nazis and the incoming Soviets. (!!!)

Never forget to stretch

Mary weird neck

Revered Poet Ivan Franko

Some cool cats

Nature day!

2007-05-10T07:26:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from a bike and hike trip our last day off. It was a lovely jaunt through the beech tree forest to top of one of the nearest foothills.

A snake!

Beautiful Bug crosses our path

This bug is so cool, it warrants two pictures

This region has gotten so much rain that the beech forests are oozing with snails

We are almost at the top!

a perfectly placed one-man swing

Mary at the top! (The top turned out to be a cut-block! Strange how comforting it was. I can attest that that piece was definitely cream.)

Back down the hill, on our bikes, and almost home!

2007-05-03T10:42:00.000-07:00

Ruslana and Eric

Thank god Ruslana's a great listener!

it was SO quiet in there...really great

ahhhh, Carpathians!

Neighbours

Eric cursing his crappy shoes

Ruslana's home

This one's for the Moms in our lives: fresh, wild oregano...hmmmmm

So thats a wee window into life deep in the Ukrainian Carpathians. Pretty fabulous! We walked and walked through forests, fields, past old abandoned houses and away from ceaslessly barking dogs. Its an amazing place! Ruslana, our new-found friend from the local corner store, invited us into her home for a few days. She's an amazing girl, so patient with our crappy language, and SO welcoming! We love her! Its true!

Hugs and kisses to you all.

Do not despair!!

2007-05-01T05:36:00.000-07:00

Dearest Readers,

Terribly sorry for the spotty blogging. Eric and I are overwhelmed with everything you can do on the internet, and amidst all this activity, www.epik-and-mepi has sadly been overlooked. But not for long!!! That's right, be patient, and soon you'll hear, and see, ALL about our adventures through the Carpathians, into the western city of Lviv, and much much more!

One more month left here, and life's pretty busy with ceaseless job applications (cursed personal statements will soon be the death of me!), and for Eric, emailing all his academic heroes in the study of nationalism, and whipping his class of vixens into shape for the looming final exam. And what a sorry shape they're in (tee hee)!

Until soon!!
E + M

2007-04-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

here is an opinion-piece I wrote recently on the current political crisis in Ukraine (as of right now parliament has been officially shut down, although the leading opposition party refuses to accept the president's decision. There are demonstrations in Kyiv, nothing is getting done and the Ukrainian currency keeps dropping.) I'm not sure if it infringes copywright, but the following may be interesting for readers of this blog.

Ukraine’s Identity Crisis

Ukraine is fast approaching a full-blown identity crisis. Since the ‘Orange Revolution’ of 2004, the divide between the predominantly Ukrainian-speaking, European-oriented Ukrainians in the western part of the country and the predominantly Russian-speaking, Russian-oriented Ukrainians in the eastern part of the country has widened greatly. The difference between then and now is that Eastern Ukrainians have found their voice. As Ukrainians rush towards Independence Square in Kyiv, don’t expect to only see the orange flags of the western-based ‘Orange Coalition’. This time, the blue flags of the eastern-based ‘Region’s Party’ and even the red flags of the Communist Party will be displayed just as proudly.

The stand-off in Ukrainian politics is often cast as a battle of ‘civilisations’ between Western countries and Russia. In this analysis, both ‘civilisations’ compete to ensure that Ukraine remains one of their own. Although this is at least partly true, such a focus on geo-politics obscures the divisions that exist within Ukraine itself. The ongoing political crisis is more than simply a question of Ukrainian foreign policy: it is a debate over how Ukrainians will choose to define their young nation.

Since Ukraine declared its independence 15 years ago, Ukrainians remain incredibly divided over their national identity. Ukrainians argue over whether to recognize their past achievements as Soviets or whether to recognize those who fought for independence; whether they are European or Slavic; and whether Ukraine is a Ukrainian-speaking country, a Russian-speaking country, or both. For example, visitors to the Western part of Ukraine will find that monuments to the Soviet era have all been replaced with rediscovered Ukrainian heroes, but if they make their way to the eastern City of Kharkiv, they will likely be surprised to find a 20 metre monument to Lenin still standing in the largest square in Europe.

More than anything else, language will be what surprises visitors the most. The Ukrainian constitution stolidly declares the Ukrainian language to be the only official language of Ukraine, yet this hardly reflects reality. Although the Ukrainian language is meant to be used in government, visitors to Kyiv will be surprised to hear the Russian language spoken in the streets, shops, bedrooms, and boardrooms. Indeed, with the notable exception of Lviv, the Russian language is common in most large cities in Ukraine, no matter Western or Eastern. Meanwhile, amongst Ukrainians who do speak Ukrainian, divisions exist as to what is the ‘true’ Ukrainian language.

None of this is being written to belittle Ukrainians or to expose their flaws. Rather, it is to serve notice to readers in the West that the political crisis in Ukraine, which has continued to grow since the ‘Orange Revolution’, cannot be attributed to meddling by Russia alone. Lenin stands tall in the City of Kharkiv because Ukrainians living there are not yet willing to take him down. Readers should understand that the current political crisis is not simply a case of the ‘Orange Coalition’ boldly trying to triumph over undue Russian influence. It is better to understand this crisis as a battle that is taking place primarily amongst Ukrainians themselves. The pertinent question for Ukrainians now is whether they will be able to find some way of accommodating their great diversity. If they cannot, it is difficult to see how they will avoid continuing to lurch from one crisis to the next.

Kicking into high-gear

2007-04-10T07:58:00.000-07:00

The meat market

Chernivtsi air sends us all adrift in thought

Theatre Square

Easter has come and gone, and we're left with the satisfying feeling of a full stomach and time well spent with our Chernivtsian family. We've made a sort of resolution to kick into high-gear for these last months and really blitz through the things we set out to do. Eric is juggling a million applications, websites, reports and lecturing, and I'm running all over the city tracking down elusive organizations. As we speak, his PhD proposal is somewhere in the bowels of some British airport, waiting for customs to "process" it...whatever that might mean. And I'm spreading my tentacles on the initial stages of job hunting for next year in London. Phew, you can't always escape the fast pace of modernity, can you? (a kind of contrast from the pictures, I suppose, but there you go...thats the beauty of it all I guess)

New bikes, Easter, and room

2007-04-09T06:36:00.000-07:00

Home sweet home: note the permanent fixture of pickles on our table

Our easter basket!

Old Soviet dinosaurs, spring and the city on the hill

Bike King

Mary ready to ride!

This one is for our parents

Just a little mix of life these days. Slowly but surely, we're morphing into Ukrainian ways...dyeing the hair red, hanging out in parks far longer than necessary, going to the plazas instead of for long walks and hopping on and off those trolley-busses like nobody's business! Thats right, we can squish by any sturdy old babushka, under the arm of the smelliest man, and around the delicate stance of the tallest vixen. The pumping dance music outside the local grocery store is now an excuse to lean against the wall for five minutes, rather than getting worked into a frenzy by the crowds of youth. We cruise through the bazaar making all the vendors giggle at our broken ukrainian, but they know precisely what we want (i.e. the makings for extreme-muesli...that's right Matth - muesli by the kilo, full of all sorts of delectable treats).

But there's failure too...I (Mary) tried desperately hard to track down a skills building center for women that had been trafficked abroad, but was led in circles through the block neighbourhoods, knocking on all the rickety doors and asking all the wrong questions. Unfortunetely, its common practice to a) not label street addresses, and b) hang up the phone when you can't understand the person on the other line. Makes for a tough time. Well, there's always tomorrow!

2007-04-09T06:03:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter everybody!

It was busy week of political crisis, writing, new bikes, realizing we were actually starting to speak the language, and celebration! Today, I'm having some alone time, thinking about stuff.

Almost everyone in Chernivtsi is Orthodox and, in the Orthodox world, Easter rivals Christmas. Food, food, and more food!

On Sunday morning (6:00am!), Vitaliy and Inessa picked us up and we went to the church together. At the church, the parishioners gathered with their baskets filled with Easter bounty (eggs, sausage, bread, fruit, water, onions, tomatoes, radishes, butter and cheese). They formed a semi-circle around the entrance to the Church and lit candles. As the sun rose, the priest and his young cohort came out of the Church and sang hymns. When they were finished, they walked around splashing water on the parishioners and the food, blessing everything.
Afterwards, Vitaliy and Inessa invited us to their home for the feast! (At around this time, my mom phoned to wish us a happy easter! Thanks mom!)

Mary and I headed home dazed and content. Luckily, it was incredibly sunny, so we headed to our spot on the hill to digest and sleep.

Later, we headed out to the Kozachuks on our new bikes for our Sunday meal. There we feasted, then crowded on to the sofa to watch a really long movie. Aahhh. The only that could have made Sunday better was a call to my sister, brother and grandparents. To bad no internet and no Skype. Oh well, there is allllllways tomorrow.

Both Mary and I send our very best.

Love, Eric

On the way to the Kozachuks

2007-03-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

Steady!

"9B" - We've arrived!

Every Sunday, we pack our bags and make the treck out to the Sleeping-District, where the Kozachuk family lives. There we spend time eating home-cooked delights with these wonderful folk. Here is what we see on our way there (in reverse order):

pictures of the hill and one little garden

2007-03-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

Spring Garlic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the Rebel House, somewhere on the hill

the top of our jogging hill

Me and Mary on the Hill

a few thoughts

2007-03-27T09:26:00.000-07:00

Hi guys!

What better way to avoid planning my class than add a post? I'm at the wee Canadian studies centre, waiting for Mary to return from 'Aerobik'. Work here is interesting enough - on top of my regular class, I get the chance to lecture in French to senior language students. Its fun, who knew that I would enjoy talking about my own interests so much!

Outside of the work, I've been doing a lot of jogging. There is quite a huge hill (maybe 800 metres high?)located right in the middle of city that, apart from a park at the very top, has been left wild. There are small paths that switch-back up and down and around the side of the hill. A fast moving creek meanders around the base of one side of the hill. An incredible array of birds make there home here - so much so, that I often have to avoid stepping on them! The south side of the hill is now covered in small purple and yellow flowers. From there, I can make out most of the south-west of the city and beyond.

I've noticed that sound carries in unusual ways - while jogging high up in the hill, I will hear the occasional lada (russian-made vehicles, I love these cars) roaring by down below, roosters (yes roosters! if they have any space at all, urban homeowners will rear animals in addition to their huge gardens), dogs (tons and tons of stray dogs here!), and snippets of conversation.

Anyways, Mary has returned and we are off to make some borscht. If the good weather holds, we are planning to head out into the Carpathians this friday. Fingers crossed.

Yours,

Eric

Eric's ladies and the mysteries of Ukraine

2007-03-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

Eric and his Ladies

A Soviet block

Ohhh, and how could we forget to show you pictures of Eric and his Ladies. Every Wednesday, he meets with his class of 15 beautiful young Ukrainians (perhaps Canadian Studies does not interest any beautiful young Ukrainian males…?), passes around the chocolate and begins to reveal to them the intricacies of Canadian politics. And with them sending Eric text messages saying, "May your and Mary’s day be filled with the light of beautiful harmony", we can’t help but have an ever-growing soft spot for these sensitive and kind super-beauties.

But everything is double-edged here. Slowly we catch tidbits hinting at the exodus of Ukrainian women to (mainly) western countries. Nobody outright mentions "human trafficking" or "sex trade", but they leave us to fill in the blanks. Its heartbreaking…almost everyone, these students included, will receive a monthly cheque from an absent parent. The villages are empty, and the Chernivtsi economy is fueled by euros sent in from abroad. It has been a slow process understanding the complexities of this place…the politics of language, the mysteries of their economy, the evolution of nationalism despite countless changes of empires. We are far from understanding, but with our grasp of Ukrainian (and Russian) getting stronger, all sorts of contradictions are slowly being explained.

Just a brief glimpse into our muddled-up view of this place: we arrive thinking Ukrainian is spoken in Ukraine…an unreasonable assumption? One would think not. BUT…oh my lord, what a hot topic this language business is! Russian is spoken in the streets and homes of most common folk – an obvious remnant of the years of Soviet rule; the youth learn Ukrainian in school, speak (usually) Russian at home, cannot read or write Russian as well as Ukrainian, and understand that language is a significant symbol in preserving an independent Ukraine (a country formed a mere 15 years ago). If we travel west to Lviv, Ukrainian is the language of the streets. But travel east to Odessa, and our shaky Ukrainian words will be met with blank stares and a Russian response. Nationalists see Russian as the language of the empire that is no longer, and Ukrainian as the language that needs to rise up from the dust of Soviet rule. But how easily can you change the language of the people? Ahh, it is so complex, and even these words are bound to infuriate some. All I can say is that Chernivtsi is the city in the grey area – and as a result, our heads are filled with some mixed-up form of both.

So that is mystery #1 shared with you guys. There are many, many more, and we’ll slowly let you all in, as we ourselves, pick up on them.

misc.

2007-03-17T09:18:00.000-07:00

Mary realizing 500 millilitres of beer only costs 50 cents

nuts and bolts and the sunday market

our basement kitchen

sunday market.

Mary's favorite anchorman (minus the evil-beard)...look deep into his eyes.

spring!!!

Eric and intricate facade

we were treated to Bach via pipe-organ in the old Armenian church (as an aside, apparently, a priest once threw himself off the top balcony)

Slowly getting this place organized

2007-03-17T08:59:00.000-07:00

Varenykyy (aka - PEROGIES!)

at the Kozachuk house

Igor the excitable pool shark

Masha, with Yulia taking the shot

So here's more of a peek into the lives of Eric and Mary...besides our strolling through the streets in search of bazaars and borscht. The Kozachuk family. Beautiful Masha and her intense brother Oleh are always ringing us up to remind us of our weekly Sunday meals at their family's apartment, or insisting we join them for a game of (impossibly difficult) Russian billiards. Igor is the childhood friend who is so full of piss and vinegar, you can't keep him from bouncing off the walls or flailing his arms wildly with every word. He speaks only Russian, so communication in the traditional sense is pretty limited - we get by. Did I mention he's a pool shark? So its a fine balance between avoiding spending the entire afternoon walking the streets with Oleh, Igor and 1$ bottles of beer, getting something "productive" done, and enjoying the companionship of the Kozachuks & Co.

2007-03-13T04:08:00.000-07:00

Hey friends and family!

I can finally help Mary with blog! Proposal complete and application submitted! It's sunny and warm today. Mary and I are off to the Kozachuk's for a home-cooked meal. I'm so happy to be back in touch!

Love to you all!

Eric

2007-03-13T03:43:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of a looooong walk one sunny afternoon
A bit of a "doctored" version of one Soviet-era blocks

A balancing act

Some kind of blocked-off entrance way. Why so intricate...I do not know

ERIC!!!

"Fresh Meat"

Fish exchange

Mid-day convention of Chernivtsian men

Hello hello hello!! Spring has sprung, and we just got back from a beeeeeautiful jog through the hills! Its a real obstacle course trying to find our footing over the uneven cobblestones whilst dodging the stray dogs, speeding Mercedes and curious glances. We're a real odd-ball couple here doing our "sport" in the streets...but heck, maybe we're a bit weird anywhere we go! Eric is sitting at the next computer at this moment sending THE PROPOSAL. No more needs to be said - this is the culmination of months of arduous grinding of gears in his head and furrowed, concentrated brows. Yupee!

Yaieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I am alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

just a few of my favorites...

2007-03-05T05:04:00.000-08:00

It being now only 5 minutes after posting the bazaar pictures, I am still suffering a terrible writer's block and once again will only post pictures, no words. I'll manage to click the proper icons on this here computer, and then float aimlessly down some street with my head (still) in the clouds. These pictures are of an iron fence on some side street that caught my attention.

Sunny day at the bazaar

2007-03-05T04:53:00.000-08:00

Yummm...honey treats!

Just a quick posting of some recent snaps (I am a bit braindead today...for no apparent reason, just one of those cloudy-day / cloudy-head connections). Hope you like them!

Trolley buses and mokra

2007-02-28T04:56:00.000-08:00

I can't help have the last name England and not talk about the weather. These days are days of mokra, that wet, lumpy, sludgy brown slush that creeps over your shoes and up your pant legs (maybe stiletto boots are practical afterall). We dance an intricate choreography avoiding pools of swamp water collecting in the streets, downpours of melting snow falling on our heads from rooftops, and surprise splashes from passing trolley buses. But spring slowly is coming!

Besides weather, this entry is dedicated to the trolley bus. Hop on, if you can fit, for 50 kopikas (10 cents), and rumble through the streets packed like sardines. Handfulls of cash get passed up, passenger to passenger, to the driver, and in return, handfulls of bus tickets get passed back, passenger to passenger. Its quite an efficient system...nobody runs off with your money, and nobody hops on without paying. Simple!

Other than those few observations, life is swell. Eric is an excited ball of energy after each class he teaches (his lectures seem to be falling into place like a dream). I'm waiting for some contacts to get back to me: one with a day-center development project for disabled people (in Kyiv), and another possibly with an orphanage here in Chernivtsi. In the meantime, I've been helping Eric organize this library in the Canadian Studies Centre at the university. Tons of books, tons of cataloguing, and tons of typing! The only stresses are knowing that in a few short days, my MCAT mark will be posted....ahhhh! On that note, I'll sign off and see if it has been posted early. bye!

2007-02-23T07:03:00.000-08:00

Chernivtsi University

Our street

Lounge lizards

Foothills of Carpathians

Ahh, Chernivtsi! The sweet sound of stilettoed feet click-clacking on cobblestone streets. The constant sputtering Ladas, those box-like Russian-made cars, zipping past with tinted windows, zebra-skin upholstery and the obligatory blaring dance music. Streets lined with faded but lavish Hapsburg buildings, giving away a complicated history of opulence and hardship. SOOO beautiful!!! My days are spent learning this impossibly difficult language (made even harder because Russian is spoken as much, if not more than Ukrainian, in the streets), stutterring incomprehensibly at the outdoor markets, learning to avoid buying extremely stinky prunes, meeting Eric for a bowl of borscht and coffee...basic and very relaxing. Eric is submerged in a world of proposals, building a library, and meeting Mary for borscht and coffees!

There are symphonies for $2 at 200 year old theatres, politically charged music concerts in a plaza opposite a massive statue of Shevchenko, the favorite Ukrainian nationalist poet. People cruise the streets in pairs, cigarrettes and beers in hand, dodging the stray dogs and hopping onto trolley buses. Funny sight was seeing a big bald leather-clad man flip a 1-litre beer bottle into a nearby snowbank and stomp it out of sight with a well-practiced flourish. A recycler's nightmare.

It looks as though last days pictures didn't show up. Time to solve these never-ending technological dilemnas. Until later!

Kyiv madness

2007-02-23T06:26:00.000-08:00

Kyiv Metro vixen

Eric at the Kyiv train station (zaliznichniy vokzal)

First day together in Ukraine

Well well well, technology has foiled me again, and you, dear friends, are going to have to settle for "First Impressions" second time 'round. Erik and I arrived in Chernivtsi on a (nice) rattling pre-WWII propellor plane, and I couldn't decide what most deserved my attention, the loose screws and shaky wings appearing through the window, or the fur-clad beauties lounging with bottles of cognac and cigarettes in the seats next to us.
But I'm jumping ahead of myself. I have skipped over entirely the madness of Kyiv! Its easy to forget how useless you can feel unable to ask for a simple glass of water (voda). Somehow, through divine intervention perhaps, Eric managed to reach into the depths of his brain and assemble the pieces of Ukrainian/Russian he has learned so far to get us through the streets and metro systems. I don't know what to say so much about Kyiv - fast, elegant, edgy, sexy. There is a constant movement that has a mind of its own - trolley buses squealing past, dirty windows and crumbling paint with the faces of stunning Slavs staring out. Slick-looking characters hover on the corners sipping coffees and glancing discreetly at the high-heeled fashionistas strutting past. We have to return here once we're less frantically lost and can read, rather than guess the street signs. Can't wait!