Kyiv Journal
August 6–14, 2006
Monday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday Monday, again This isn't funny…
Monday, again
Let's see if I can get through this without bursting into hysterical tears.
I'm stuck in Kyiv.
On Friday, the travel agent who books corporate travel for ****, who shall remain nameless, sent an email to my OREGON office about a change in schedule in which I would leave today at 7:25 AM instead of 12:35 PM. He sent the email at 9:30 AM, Friday. In Kyiv, that's 7:30 PM. After the office had closed. And everyone had left for the weekend. After I had already confirmed my original flight. Beginning to see the problem?
I had no further access to my work email or any intention to check it until I got back to the office. Fortunately, home office staff, who had been copied on the schedule change, forwarded it to our Ukraine manager at the Kyiv office. AFTER EVERYONE HERE HAD LEFT FOR THE WEEKEND! I say "fortunately" because our Kyiv manager saw the email this morning and at least saved me a wasted trip to the airport. You see, I was leaving for the airport at 9:30 AM because I expected to fly out at 12:30 PM. I would learn later that our home office people had been trying to reach us by telephone all weekend, but the phone in my apartment apparently didn't accept incoming calls (there was a dial tone), our Kyiv manager wasn't answering the cell phone, and no one had her home phone number.
So, I missed the rescheduled flight. BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ON IT!
The Delta Airlines office here (Kyiv) is short on creative problem solving, and was unable to find me a flight with the right connections until Sept. 4!
So...
Things are now in the hands of the home office and the above unnamed travel agent to get me out of here. Tuesday maybe.
In the mean time, I have relocated to Dnipro (another spelling of Dnepr, I guess) Hotel, because the apartment I was in had been let to someone else (Why not? I thought I was done with it.), and the other apartment the Kyiv office found didn't have any hot water. So, here I am, in a room about the size of a walk-in closet, costing $109 per night. Without air conditioning. And it's 93 outside. And right now I'm enjoying the sound of an overworked jigsaw in the next room because they're doing renovations.
Dnipro Hotel was built in the 60's and has the air of a place much older. It's kinda run down. During the Soviet era, this was the only place foreign visitors were allowed to stay. The Soviet design philosophy was one of: well, if foreigners must visit, we'll stick them someplace as spartan as possible so they won't come back and bother us. These days, the Dnipro wants to be considered a high class joint, thus the renovation. Located a block down from Independence Square at the beginning of Khreschatyk Street. Good sightseeing neighborhood, if it wasn't so damned hot. I'm just going to sit in front of the fan, drink my warm complementary bottle of mineral water, and listen to the sawing.
The TV has satellite programming. Right now it's Seventh Heaven dubbed in German. The German title translates, roughly, to "A Godly Family." That show doesn't make sense even in English. There are supposed to be several English language channels, but the only that seems to be working is CNN International, and the only thing on their mind is Israel and Lebanon.
I had varenniki for lunch at the hotel restaurant. Not like Mom used to make, but still delicious. Available varieties included potato and mushroom, cabbage, or meat. I chose the meat filled varenniki. They were very similar, in size and shape, to Chinese pot-stickers, but not fried at all, only boiled. Served with sweet onion sauteed in butter, the filling was chopped pork with a little onion and black pepper. The spaghetti carbonara, however, was less successful. A much too strong Romano cheese overpowered this delicate dish.
Later that same day…
My plaintive (and slightly bitchy, I'm sure) e-mail brought very fast results. I am now booked on a 6:50 am, Tuesday, flight (set the alarm for 3:45) to Paris-Charles DeGaulle, 4 1/2 hour lay over, then Cincinnati, Salt Lake City and home by 10 pm.
It is 8 pm, the sun is setting and I hope the room will cool enough that I can get a little sleep. There is a tiny thermometer in here (Why? There is no way to regulate the temperature other than a single transom window to the outside.) and it says the temperature is 28.5°C. Too damn hot.
Monday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday Monday, again This isn't funny…
