However, we underestimated the unnecessarily complex process that is required to do pretty much anything here in Kyiv. Shawn got a call on Monday from the internet company. Luckily, his Ukrainian secretary was right there, so she fielded the call. They faxed over a form for Shawn to fill out. It was in Ukrainian, of course, so it was Shawn’s secretary to the rescue again. Then they faxed over the bill for set-up. This is where the real Ukrainian fun begins.

Here’s the process for paying bills in Ukraine:

Step 1: You get the bill.

Step 2: You take the bill to a bank. You must make sure that it is the correct bank and the correct branch or you can just go ahead and start over at step 1.

Step 3: You hand your bill to a teller. She types some stuff into the computer. You hand her the money. She prints something on the bill using an archaic dot-matrix printer. She violently stamps the bill (they violently stamp everything here). She tears the bill in half and hands you the portion that is your receipt.

Step 4: You wait and see if anything actually happens.

We’re currently holding at step 4. According to Shawn’s secretary, we should have internet access in 15 days. Why 15 days? I’m not sure, but she seemed to think it was normal, so I guess now we wait.

But let me explain the trip to the market first. We were originally going to go by ourselves, but when Shawn called our friends to get directions, it was decided it would be easier for them to go with us (and I think they were looking for an excuse to go anyway). So we met them outside a nearby metro stop and hopped on a trolley bus. They had mentioned that we would go through an area of “people selling junk” in order to get to the animals. I assumed this meant tables of junky souvenirs, but when we got there, it was more like hundreds of little yard sales lined up along the street. Plastic tarps on the ground were covered with worn, dirty shoes (more frequently than you might expect, there was only one shoe), faded clothing (including more used underwear than I ever want to see again), cassette tapes (I caught a glimpse of The Bodyguard soundtrack), and so much more miscellaneous….junk. We did slow down to take a look at some old Soviet machine guns, but decided it was probably best to keep moving.

We finally got to an area that had actual market stalls….all selling hardware. I’m not really sure how that’s related to pets, but we squeezed past chainsaws and deadbolt locks and finally found ourselves at the pet market. “Animal market” might be a more correct term as there were not only puppies, kittens, rabbits, and fish, but also peacocks, chickens, ducks, turkey, and other fowl. The amazing thing was that even though most of the animals were not even caged, none of them were bothering each other or making any attempt to escape.

We spent most of our time in the dog aisles, and a 2-month-old Black Russian Terrier immediately caught Shawn’s attention. He (the dog) was very cute and the seller showed us photos of his parents (the dog’s) and even a paper proving he was certified. We decided to keep looking, but just a few aisles later, Shawn turned to me and said we needed to go back and look at the dog again. I started to worry that we were going to end up with a puppy before our personal belongings even got here, but by the time we made it back to where the puppy was, he had already been sold.

Our friends were disappointed that there were no golden retrievers among the dozens of dogs being sold, but as we left (back past the hardware…) there was a woman with a box of yellow lab puppies. After holding one for a while, they decided that it probably wasn’t the right time for them to get a dog. But I envision another trip to the pet market will be in the not-so-distant future for all of us.

The trip: Both of our flights went smoothly. Peema was a real trooper and only cried once or twice the entire time, which was amazing! I did have to remove her from her carrier at National Airport in DC and carry her through the metal detector, but she was totally calm and I suffered no scratches. Our flight from JFK to Kyiv gave me my first taste of the people of Ukraine. In fact, just sitting at the gate, being stared at by a few dozen pushy Russian-speakers was almost enough to make me change my mind about this whole thing. But it was just the beginning of my culture shock…

Our apartment: We were met at the airport by one of our sponsors and Shawn’s boss (thank God for some friendly faces) and taken directly to our new apartment. Well, because of protesters and traffic here, “taken directly” meant a 2 hour trip, but it was still better than having to go straight to the Embassy. We are located in a great area, about a 15 minute walk from the center of the city. We’re a little far away from the big grocery stores, but we have plenty of smaller markets nearby and a ton of restaurants. And we’ve learned to use public transportation, which is cheap, convenient, and travels frequently. Our apartment itself is on the top floor of a building full of Embassy employees (again, it’s nice to have friendly faces nearby). We have a brand new kitchen, which is very European - including European-sized appliances - and our ceilings are about 12 feet tall, which makes the space feel huge. We did a little furniture rearranging yesterday. I think we’re having a little trouble with the concept of having real, matching furniture. I’m not sure what I’m ever going to do with a formal dining table that seats 8! And speaking of those European appliances, one of my first big challenges was figuring out how to use them with Russian instruction manuals. It was fun the first (yes, I said first) time soap suds came shooting out of the front of the washing machine. It’s important to be able to laugh at these things, right?

The city: Because Ukranians celebrate Labor Day on May 1st, Shawn had a 5-day weekend this weekend. So we’ve been doing a lot of exploring. Besides the Maidan area (where the Orange Revolution protests were held), we’ve walked around several other nearby neighborhoods. The city is beautiful and we’ve been told that the chestnut trees all over town will soon be blossoming. In fact, just during the time we’ve been here the trees have all started to get green, which adds to the beauty. All of the churches have beautiful gold and blue domes that glisten in the sunlight. The cobblestone streets add to the European feel of the city, but they can be a little dangerous for walking. As I mentioned before, the traffic is pretty crazy here (imagine everyone making up their own driving rules) and people tend to turn sidewalks into both passing lanes and parking lots. So walking around does require a lot of caution. As we explore the city, we’re constantly seeing things that cause us to pause, look at each other and just say, “Really?” It’s definitely been an experience so far.

I’ll share yesterday’s most disturbing experience: We stumbled across a Baskin Robbins ice cream shop in a local mall (yes, there are American things here, but they are few and far between) and decided to treat ourselves. As we were innocently looking for a place to sit and eat our ice cream, we spotted a bench across the food court and headed for it. As we sat down, a woman turned and yelled at us that we couldn’t sit there - she was working. Somewhat startled at being yelled at so fiercely (although we know that’s how the people all talk to each other here), we started to walk away and then I noticed exactly what “work” she was doing. She had a chimpanzee with her, wearing children’s clothing - jeans and a pink hoodie. Her business was to charge people to have their photo taken with the chimp. Shawn and I had already been warned that if we were approached by someone with a monkee or an owl, we should avoid them, which seemed like a good general rule to us, but it was really disturbing to me to see this in action.

Another interesting adventure: About a week after we arrived, we decided it was time to get a television. Luckily, we have a friend here who not only has a car, but also speaks Russian very well. He’s been here since last fall, so he offered to take us to the store where he bought his television. Entering MegaMax, it appeared very much like Best Buy, however our experience was quite different. We browsed at the tvs, without so much as one worker asking if they could help us in any way. We decided on the model we wanted, then our friend went and found someone to help us. We pointed at the tv we wanted, he looked at the product number and headed to the back. He came back out looking confused, talked to another worker, and worker #2 came over to look at the product number and disappeared in the back. Finally, I heard the sound of cardboard scraping across the tile floor, looked up, and worker #2 was pushing the tv box (just the box, no cart involved) toward us. He moved it next to a random counter in the middle of the department and started filling out paperwork. He finally had Shawn sign something, then pointed us toward an unmarked door at the back of the store. Our friend explained that we would now pay for our tv. The three of us shuffled into this tiny room where there were 2 guys sitting behind a computer. Shawn handed them the receipt, they entered what seemed like a lot of stuff into the computer, then told us the price (which wasn’t the price that was marked on the model on the sales floor…) and we paid. Then we shuffled out of the small room and back to the random counter where the sales guy was taking our tv out of the box. Our friend explained that they were now going to show us that the tv actually worked. Although since we’d already paid for it, it was ours whether it worked or not. Luckily, we got one that worked and Shawn signed yet another paper. (I think our first-born child probably belongs to MegaMax….) Having purchased a couple other electronic items here, I think that Ukrainians probably think it is very foolish that we in the US take it for granted that a new item in the box would actually function properly.

Well, this has turned into a very long post and I feel like I have just scratched the surface of our time here. To sum things up: we’re doing well, settling in as much as possible without all of our personal belongings, and trying to get used to the idea of living here. At least once a day I have a moment of shock as I realize this is going to be “life” for the next two years. One thing I know for sure at this point: Ukraine is not the US.