Wednesday 7 May 2008

The wild wild east.

Lviv is really very pleasing and full of interesting nooks and crannies... perfect for tourists. Sadly, like the Poles, Ukrainian men like to piss in doorways, they will go right inside hallways too. So, often, the stench of urine will prevent one from getting too close. Everybody smokes, oh, and they gob a lot. It's unbelievable the vast amounts of snot they manage to summon up and deposit everywhere.

Things commonly seen in Lviv: big dogs curled up asleep under trees, badly beaten women putting out rubbish, people carrying Sainsbury's plastic bags (??), dogs fucking, groups of pretty children watching dogs fucking, smoking and melting plastic bins (fag butts are flicked straight in), church dignitaries waving away begging gypsies.

I sat down at a tram stop. The man on the other end of the bench leaned to one side to take something from his back pocket and rolled all the way over and landed with a thud on the ground. In the old days my English sensibilities would kick in and I would rush forward with offers of assistance. That's long gone.
Now I just watch nonchalantly like the rest of the locals. In Poland I've seen it too many times. Our poor comrade picked himself up, blind drunk, and planted himself delicately back on the bench. The tram arrived and the doors opened and people jumped on and off. Our friend made a snap decision at the last moment that he had to get on the tram. Leaping up, he slung his long spindly legs into action and waded out into the street, a miracle of physical co-ordination. He took a rather lengthy bend but managed to grab the door-rail and heave himself inside just as the doors were closing, only to land on a large woman inside.

I spoke to Big Eggs at 4 o'clock in the morning, he was watching desperate housewives with a pal. He's worried and advises me not to venture on my own further east than Kyiv... "There is mafia place! You are nothing to them, this wild place and you rich foreigner... there is a lots of robber!!" I tried to calm him but he hissed at me... "You the English know nothing, you must to be careful." Lola says the same. Of course I'm not going to take any chances, I've two dogs and several Polish barmen dependent on me. Anyway it might not be such fun if I can't communicate (it's only Russian in the east), although I suspect my Polish will get me through. Poles play down the similarity in the two languages for obvious reasons. BGF said simply, "My friend... do not move to the Ukraine."