кирилиця! Ukraine!

Chernobyl

It is not very often when you can walk in a city that has been completely disserted—one that hours before it was emptied of all human life, it was live and bustling. People were told they could take one suitcase and would be returning to their homes shortly. However, the authorities knew they were never going to return—the situation was far more serious than what was being relayed. I was standing in Pripyat, the neighboring city to the Nuclear Power Plant Chernobyl. Pripyat had to be evacuated once the authorities realized the severity of the plant explosion on April 26, 1986. While the citizens of that city were never told the magnitude of the catastrophe, they were still forced to leave. As we were walking through the ruins of the city, in what had become an overgrowth of trees and brush, the yellow paint of the iconic Ferris wheel barely began to appear through the branches. As we maneuvered the narrow pathway, eventually, it opened up to the amusement park that was set to open days after the Chernobyl accident. All the rides had been constructed and were ready to be unveiled during May Day. Those debuts never occurred though. Here they sit, slowly being rotting away by time, serving as a reminder of a glamorous town that had been left in history due to simple human error.

It is an eerie feeling walking around a city that has been deserted—and a city that still has radioactive traces. While I will never return, I think it is good to visit once. We never know the challenges we are going to be faced with in the future, and subsequently, we do not know how we are going to handle each of those challenges. However, I believe any time we have opportunities to be reminded of difficult moments in history, we should take advantage. At some point in the future, if we are ever called to make a tough decision, we never know what memories are going to flood back. For that reason alone, I’m glad I went, but I never will go back to Chernobyl.

Reactor #4 at Chernobyl

Decisions are never black and white.

Pripyat City Sign

Countless tears have been shed here.

Lviv

Lviv was my first experience with Cyrillic. It is a humbling experience to look around and not even be able to pronounce a word—let alone try and translate it. Lviv is a city (and I feel Ukraine is a country) that is struggling to embrace Westernization while maintaining its identity away from the Soviet Union. Normally, the younger generation is a safer bet for at least being able to communicate with the basics; however, in Ukraine, English is a rarity. While I never expect any country to have to adapt to English speakers, I consistently felt like the leadership of Ukraine was intentionally keeping the country in the “darker” ages. The other former Soviet Union countries have put an emphasis on Western communication (which provides opportunities for tourism and business). Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland, former Yugoslavia: they have all embraced English as a second language and personally, I believe more opportunities are awarded because of that fact.

Luck struck several times while in Lviv. The first time was after I had resolved to eating pizza for lunch one day (Pizza is the easiest, most universally accepted food EVER. Anytime I do not know what to order or I cannot read the menu, I choose pizza or spaghetti Bolognese). I was at the counter ordering (it was quite embarrassing actually) when a Polish girl (Barbara) came up to the counter to ask a question to the cashier. We quickly bonded over our confusion of Cyrillic and she asked if I wanted to join her group. Next thing I know, I am having lunch, sharing a drink and spending the afternoon with four students from Poland.

My Texas A&M shirt was a winner…again. There is a free piano in the city center of Lviv. My second and final night, I was walking around the center when I decided to buy an ice cream cone before wandering over to the piano. Unfortunately however, when I arrived, the piano had been covered in a glass box to protect it during the evening. Defeated, I turned around and was reenergized by an amazingly serene scene in front of me. Past the off-centered horse drawn carriage, was the main square with the massive clock tower. Because I was slightly outside the main square center, the perimeter buildings of the square provided a frame to the scene. I decided to stay in that spot, enjoying the view and my remaining ice cream. A few minutes later, a local Ukrainian (Ruslan—he had studied at New Mexico State [also the Aggies]) walked up and asked about Texas A&M. We talked briefly and he invited me out with his friends for drinks.

Advice: always bring clothing that might make connections with other people. While I was not in Lviv long, my memories of the city would be drastically different without the kindness and inclusiveness of strangers. Thanks “guys”!

Kiev

During my entire stay in Kiev (which was longer than normal due to my flight situation), I imagined living in a place similar to the city. There were beautiful buildings, not too many tourists, beaches inside the city center and ample green spaces. However, unless you know the language (or at least Russian), a guide is basically a requirement to truly experience the city. I have far more stories from Ukraine, but those stories will have to be shared in person—this entry is getting too long.

Relaxing on a beach in the Kiev city center