The Search Continues
Friday, June 9, 2006
I woke up today filled with hope because I was going to be shown two apartments that sounded very promising. At 10 a.m. Vlad picked me up in front of the Hotel Kharkiv and took me and Sasha to the first apartment. It was about a 10 minute drive (already a bad sign) in an area that seemed very suburban and not at all in the city center. We drove around to a back alley way filled with overflowing trash cans and dirt and patches of pathetic looking grass. We were then led into a very unappetizing entrance, with no security lock, and up three flights of very depressing stairs (but nowhere near as depressing as those at 48 Sumskaya) to a possibly acceptable flat. It was only moderately depressing – the floor was sort of a fake wood and there were distinct depressions in certain parts of the living room floor. The kitchen and bedroom were small and the air conditioner was not in the bedroom, but in the living room (not good for someone such as myself, who likes to be cold at night!). I find it very hard to describe what makes it so depressing – the very cheap quality of all the furniture, the drab browns and bieges that are used, with an occasional electric blue carpet or chair or something. Let’s put it this way – I’ve lived in some fairly modest apartments – in law school for example – but nothing I ever lived in, or stayed in as a student, ever compared with anything I’ve seen here in dreariness and disrepair. Sasha agreed that this place was unacceptable, just based on location alone. The other apartment was a studio in the same building, owned by the same person and furnished in the same way, and we couldn’t see that until noon, so I told Vlad that we weren’t interested in coming back. I asked him to search and see if he could find something like the now famous apartment on Sportiskaya, or the one that was like the photos I had been sent by Natasha while I was still in LA, and basically told him I would do whatever it took to get something like that. When in Ukraine, do as the Ukrainians do.
After that I went to the internet club and tried to find something I could live with (in, actually). I called three different places, and one told me to call a woman in Kharkiv named Alona and that she would be able to show me something tomorrow at 11 a.m. The pictures on their web site looked great and I was thinking that things might work out after all.
Vlad called to tell me that he had been talking with Elena, the woman with whom we had booked the ugly but well situated apartment at 36/38 Sumskaya, which was unavailable until June 19, and that we should take the Sumskaya apartment! This is after Ed had told Elena that we were no longer interested in any of her apartments because we were going to be in Kyiv instead of Kharkiv!!!! So, these people all know each other and talk to each other – all the apartments are the same, there are a limited number of them, and we were now at their mercy!!! Then Elena called me and said we could have the ugly Sumskaya apartment on June 12 – we didn’t have to wait until June 19 because the man who was staying there wanted to move to some place a bit less expensive and he would go to the studio at 48 Sumskaya, where we were supposed to be staying until 36/38 was ready. I told her that I would not take any apartment without seeing it first. She said that I couldn’t see it until he left, and she wouldn’t let him off the hook and give him the smaller apartment unless we took his apartment. Talk about Catch 22!!! I told her that if he really wanted to move, and she really wanted us to take this apartment, she would somehow arrange for me to see it.
I took a break from the apartment search to have lunch with Ed and Sasha and Belle at a café across the street from the Hotel. Another great meal – for practically nothing. We keep treating Sasha because we like her, because she is 25 years old, because she is really an interesting person and has a really interesting sounding family, and because she has been an enormous help with everything from translating menus, phone cards, street signs, etc., to guiding us in our “negotiations” (i.e. determining the appropriate bribe) in all sorts of situations, ranging from getting our luggage on board the train, to getting it off the train and into a taxi! We then went with her to get Ed a cell phone. Yes, Ed has moved into the cellular age. It’s the only way here, and he sees that he must finally bow to technology. Because Sasha was with us we were able to get “contracts” at KyivStar, which means that our rate per minute is much lower than the rate I had gotten at UMC in Kyiv. (I have to pay about 75 cents per minute – really a fortune – for calls in the Ukraine on UMC; now we will each pay about 1 Kopek or 20 cents per minute, and only 2 cents per minute if we are calling another KievStar number.) You have to be a citizen of the Ukraine to get a contract, so we put it in Sasha’s name, got Ed a phone and a SIM chip, got me a new KyivStar SIM chip, so that at least we can talk to each other for 2 cents a minute. Naturally I had just added 120 Hryvna (about $25) of time to my UMC SIM card, but as soon as I use that up I’ll switch to the KyivStar number.
Ed bought Sasha a rose for the trip home and we said goodbye to her as she left for Kyiv, where she'll spend the weekend before heading back to Budapest. We are really in her debt.
Ed and I decided to walk down to 36/38 Sumskaya just to take a look at the building. We left Belle in the hotel room (the housekeepers and waitresses in the hotel adore her) and walked down Sumskaya, passing some lovely buildings and a great looking café on the way. We stopped at 48 Sumskaya and since I had the door code, I opened the door to show Ed the entry and staircase. He was not as horrified as I was, but even he agreed it was pretty bad. We kept walking and passed the massive and hideously ugly Opera House and found our way into 36/38 Sumskaya (I had the door codes afterall!) which was a bit, but not a lot, better than 48 Sumskaya. The “elevator” was the scariest thing I have ever been in – no kidding – I kept my eyes closed the entire ride to the 7th floor and just leaned on Ed (which was probably required since it is smaller than any closet I have ever had, and the two of us barely fit in it). We got to the 7th floor where it was practically pitch dark (even though it was still light outside!!!), and while looking for a light switch I accidentally rang a door bell. A man with a towel around his waist answered the door and we tried our usual charade pantomime, with a few Ukrainian words thrown in for good measure, to explain what happened. He said, with a New Zealand accent, “I’m sorry, I only speak English.” Well, it turns out he was the tenant in Number 64, the apartment we had booked for June 19 onwards. He invited us in and told us to have a look around while he put on a pair of pants. He was incredibly gracious, and a very strange duck. I asked him what brought him to Kharkiv, and he said he was just escaping the cold New Zealand winters – he was traveling around for 6 months and for some reason that still eludes me he ended up here, of all places. As for the apartment – once again, words fail me. They really do. The kitchen was very small, which was a good thing, because it was so disgusting one wanted as little of it as possible – the carpet is really indescribable – kind of a dark brown and dark reddish sort of synthetic material. The bedroom was big, which was a bad thing, because it was so ugly there was just more ugliness to see. I will say that the view was really great – you looked over the whole city and Schevshenko park. There was no living room really, just another small room with two unbelievably hideous chairs and a desk with a computer that must date from the 1980s. Pete, as the man was called, wanted to chat, but we managed to extricate ourselves and promised to come by the next day to report on our decision on whether or not to move in there. We walked out and I told Ed that there was absolutely no way I could live there. He was surprised, which actually surprised me. I really don’t think I’m being a spoiled JAP here – these conditions really are pretty terrible. I told Ed that I didn’t even think I could live there if I was going out to an office all day – as he probably will be doing. There is no question that he is much, much more adaptable than I am, and I feel really guilty about what a burden I am in this adventure. Ed could easily have come over with one suitcase (really, just one) and stayed in a small disgusting place without any problem. He really could. I have learned in the short space of one week that I could probably have come here with 2 suitcases, instead of 9 boxes and suitcases, but that I just cannot adapt to these living conditions. I suppose I could if my life depended on it – I keep thinking about the holocaust and how people were forced to live, and how they still wanted to, and some actually did, survive. So I feel very small, and selfish, and spoiled – and I guess I am. I don’t know what to say – I’m having a hard time dealing with my lack of flexibility on this question. But then sometimes I feel that I really can’t think of many women I know who would be willing or able to do this – I’m not a 20 or 30 year old, I’m 60 years old, and it’s hard to adapt. I am trying, but I have to admit that I’m not even willing to give one of these apartments a try. I just can’t (or I suppose a more accurate way of putting it is, I just won’t) do it.
Needless to say the whole thing really depressed me – I’m afraid that I will have to go live in Kyiv after all, and have Ed join me when the Kharkiv project is over. I’m concerned that this (my attitude, not the separation) will have a really negative impact on our relationship, although Ed has neither said nor done anything to make me feel this way. He’s been incredibly supportive, and I know that dealing with me is as difficult for him as dealing with the apartment situation is for me!
We did have a lovely dinner (for a total of $15, including 2 beers) at the nice café on Sumskaya (where we even asked the waitress if she knew how we could find an apartment – she recommended the Hotel Kharkiv, where, by the way, we did try to negotiate a monthly rent, but no dice). I fell asleep around midnight hoping against all odds that the coming day would be the day we finally found our nest.
I woke up today filled with hope because I was going to be shown two apartments that sounded very promising. At 10 a.m. Vlad picked me up in front of the Hotel Kharkiv and took me and Sasha to the first apartment. It was about a 10 minute drive (already a bad sign) in an area that seemed very suburban and not at all in the city center. We drove around to a back alley way filled with overflowing trash cans and dirt and patches of pathetic looking grass. We were then led into a very unappetizing entrance, with no security lock, and up three flights of very depressing stairs (but nowhere near as depressing as those at 48 Sumskaya) to a possibly acceptable flat. It was only moderately depressing – the floor was sort of a fake wood and there were distinct depressions in certain parts of the living room floor. The kitchen and bedroom were small and the air conditioner was not in the bedroom, but in the living room (not good for someone such as myself, who likes to be cold at night!). I find it very hard to describe what makes it so depressing – the very cheap quality of all the furniture, the drab browns and bieges that are used, with an occasional electric blue carpet or chair or something. Let’s put it this way – I’ve lived in some fairly modest apartments – in law school for example – but nothing I ever lived in, or stayed in as a student, ever compared with anything I’ve seen here in dreariness and disrepair. Sasha agreed that this place was unacceptable, just based on location alone. The other apartment was a studio in the same building, owned by the same person and furnished in the same way, and we couldn’t see that until noon, so I told Vlad that we weren’t interested in coming back. I asked him to search and see if he could find something like the now famous apartment on Sportiskaya, or the one that was like the photos I had been sent by Natasha while I was still in LA, and basically told him I would do whatever it took to get something like that. When in Ukraine, do as the Ukrainians do.
After that I went to the internet club and tried to find something I could live with (in, actually). I called three different places, and one told me to call a woman in Kharkiv named Alona and that she would be able to show me something tomorrow at 11 a.m. The pictures on their web site looked great and I was thinking that things might work out after all.
Vlad called to tell me that he had been talking with Elena, the woman with whom we had booked the ugly but well situated apartment at 36/38 Sumskaya, which was unavailable until June 19, and that we should take the Sumskaya apartment! This is after Ed had told Elena that we were no longer interested in any of her apartments because we were going to be in Kyiv instead of Kharkiv!!!! So, these people all know each other and talk to each other – all the apartments are the same, there are a limited number of them, and we were now at their mercy!!! Then Elena called me and said we could have the ugly Sumskaya apartment on June 12 – we didn’t have to wait until June 19 because the man who was staying there wanted to move to some place a bit less expensive and he would go to the studio at 48 Sumskaya, where we were supposed to be staying until 36/38 was ready. I told her that I would not take any apartment without seeing it first. She said that I couldn’t see it until he left, and she wouldn’t let him off the hook and give him the smaller apartment unless we took his apartment. Talk about Catch 22!!! I told her that if he really wanted to move, and she really wanted us to take this apartment, she would somehow arrange for me to see it.
I took a break from the apartment search to have lunch with Ed and Sasha and Belle at a café across the street from the Hotel. Another great meal – for practically nothing. We keep treating Sasha because we like her, because she is 25 years old, because she is really an interesting person and has a really interesting sounding family, and because she has been an enormous help with everything from translating menus, phone cards, street signs, etc., to guiding us in our “negotiations” (i.e. determining the appropriate bribe) in all sorts of situations, ranging from getting our luggage on board the train, to getting it off the train and into a taxi! We then went with her to get Ed a cell phone. Yes, Ed has moved into the cellular age. It’s the only way here, and he sees that he must finally bow to technology. Because Sasha was with us we were able to get “contracts” at KyivStar, which means that our rate per minute is much lower than the rate I had gotten at UMC in Kyiv. (I have to pay about 75 cents per minute – really a fortune – for calls in the Ukraine on UMC; now we will each pay about 1 Kopek or 20 cents per minute, and only 2 cents per minute if we are calling another KievStar number.) You have to be a citizen of the Ukraine to get a contract, so we put it in Sasha’s name, got Ed a phone and a SIM chip, got me a new KyivStar SIM chip, so that at least we can talk to each other for 2 cents a minute. Naturally I had just added 120 Hryvna (about $25) of time to my UMC SIM card, but as soon as I use that up I’ll switch to the KyivStar number.
Ed bought Sasha a rose for the trip home and we said goodbye to her as she left for Kyiv, where she'll spend the weekend before heading back to Budapest. We are really in her debt.
Ed and I decided to walk down to 36/38 Sumskaya just to take a look at the building. We left Belle in the hotel room (the housekeepers and waitresses in the hotel adore her) and walked down Sumskaya, passing some lovely buildings and a great looking café on the way. We stopped at 48 Sumskaya and since I had the door code, I opened the door to show Ed the entry and staircase. He was not as horrified as I was, but even he agreed it was pretty bad. We kept walking and passed the massive and hideously ugly Opera House and found our way into 36/38 Sumskaya (I had the door codes afterall!) which was a bit, but not a lot, better than 48 Sumskaya. The “elevator” was the scariest thing I have ever been in – no kidding – I kept my eyes closed the entire ride to the 7th floor and just leaned on Ed (which was probably required since it is smaller than any closet I have ever had, and the two of us barely fit in it). We got to the 7th floor where it was practically pitch dark (even though it was still light outside!!!), and while looking for a light switch I accidentally rang a door bell. A man with a towel around his waist answered the door and we tried our usual charade pantomime, with a few Ukrainian words thrown in for good measure, to explain what happened. He said, with a New Zealand accent, “I’m sorry, I only speak English.” Well, it turns out he was the tenant in Number 64, the apartment we had booked for June 19 onwards. He invited us in and told us to have a look around while he put on a pair of pants. He was incredibly gracious, and a very strange duck. I asked him what brought him to Kharkiv, and he said he was just escaping the cold New Zealand winters – he was traveling around for 6 months and for some reason that still eludes me he ended up here, of all places. As for the apartment – once again, words fail me. They really do. The kitchen was very small, which was a good thing, because it was so disgusting one wanted as little of it as possible – the carpet is really indescribable – kind of a dark brown and dark reddish sort of synthetic material. The bedroom was big, which was a bad thing, because it was so ugly there was just more ugliness to see. I will say that the view was really great – you looked over the whole city and Schevshenko park. There was no living room really, just another small room with two unbelievably hideous chairs and a desk with a computer that must date from the 1980s. Pete, as the man was called, wanted to chat, but we managed to extricate ourselves and promised to come by the next day to report on our decision on whether or not to move in there. We walked out and I told Ed that there was absolutely no way I could live there. He was surprised, which actually surprised me. I really don’t think I’m being a spoiled JAP here – these conditions really are pretty terrible. I told Ed that I didn’t even think I could live there if I was going out to an office all day – as he probably will be doing. There is no question that he is much, much more adaptable than I am, and I feel really guilty about what a burden I am in this adventure. Ed could easily have come over with one suitcase (really, just one) and stayed in a small disgusting place without any problem. He really could. I have learned in the short space of one week that I could probably have come here with 2 suitcases, instead of 9 boxes and suitcases, but that I just cannot adapt to these living conditions. I suppose I could if my life depended on it – I keep thinking about the holocaust and how people were forced to live, and how they still wanted to, and some actually did, survive. So I feel very small, and selfish, and spoiled – and I guess I am. I don’t know what to say – I’m having a hard time dealing with my lack of flexibility on this question. But then sometimes I feel that I really can’t think of many women I know who would be willing or able to do this – I’m not a 20 or 30 year old, I’m 60 years old, and it’s hard to adapt. I am trying, but I have to admit that I’m not even willing to give one of these apartments a try. I just can’t (or I suppose a more accurate way of putting it is, I just won’t) do it.
Needless to say the whole thing really depressed me – I’m afraid that I will have to go live in Kyiv after all, and have Ed join me when the Kharkiv project is over. I’m concerned that this (my attitude, not the separation) will have a really negative impact on our relationship, although Ed has neither said nor done anything to make me feel this way. He’s been incredibly supportive, and I know that dealing with me is as difficult for him as dealing with the apartment situation is for me!
We did have a lovely dinner (for a total of $15, including 2 beers) at the nice café on Sumskaya (where we even asked the waitress if she knew how we could find an apartment – she recommended the Hotel Kharkiv, where, by the way, we did try to negotiate a monthly rent, but no dice). I fell asleep around midnight hoping against all odds that the coming day would be the day we finally found our nest.
posted by Susan Spivak at 2:25 PM
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