A sigh of relief

My parents have come, gone, and survived to tell the tale of their adventures in Ukraine. Well, technically, they are still en route to Indiana, but I told them that once their plane left the ground in Kyiv, they were back to being my brother’s responsibility as far as I was concerned. I think they fared pretty well: there was one twisted ankle and I think all four of us suffered from heat exhaustion one day, but no one got hit by a car or screamed at for being American, so I’m happy with that.

Last weekend we all took a trip to the Crimean Peninsula. We flew the unfortunately named Wizz Air, which allowed the four of us to fly for the price of one on the competitor’s airline, but being a budget airline it meant we did not have assigned seats. So the parents got to see just how pushy and obnoxious Ukrainians can be. Shawn and I impressed them by pushing our way far enough up to be in the second group allowed on the plane. (When in Rome, right?) That was only the beginning of our weekend experiences with Ukrainian transportation. We had several white-knuckle taxi experiences, including when our driver decided to pass a car while it was passing another car - on a two lane country road. And we checked out the bus stations in Sevastopol, Yalta, and Sudak - including their squat-toilet restrooms. (I thought they weren’t so bad, but my mother, having never been to China, did not agree.) Shawn did a good job describing the various locations we visited over the weekend, so I won’t describe it all here. But here are some photos:

The Khan’s Palace and Holy Assumption Monastery in Bahkchisarai

The “beach” in Yalta

The ruins of a Genoese fortress and the Black Sea in Sudak

Back in Kyiv, we did a tour of Pirogovo, which I had visited before, but it was nice to have an English guide this time. And we also took a walking tour of “Old Kyiv,” which happens to be the neighborhood we live in. Once again, our guide was great and pointed out a lot of things that I either had never before noticed or had no idea what it was. So I felt like I learned just as much as my parents. Our final adventure was souvenir shopping along “The Spusk.” Until my mother said, “Whoa, I need to catch my breath,” I had forgotten that my parents would not be used to the art of bargaining for souvenirs. But besides the first booth where she paid full price for everything, she did really well. It helped that we went at the end of a really hot day and the booth owners were desperate for sales at that point. I even managed to get myself a little something.

So now I would really like to know exactly what my parents have to say about Ukraine. Besides the fact that we’re crazy for living here. It will be interesting to see what stories they tell and what really left an impression on them. Maybe it will be that the police wear big hats. (Dad, I honestly don’t know why — maybe they have big heads?)