Finally the day arrived. My family’s flight was expected to arrive at 9:10 on Saturday morning. I got on a mashrutka to Kiev at 4:45 and prepared to meet them.
I should have done my research a little better. I thought about googling the best ways to get the Borispil Airport. I also had bags to pack and tickets to triple and quadruple check. So, instead of figuring out exactly where the airport was, I assumed that it wasn’t too far from the metro stop that shared its name and went on an adventure.
I arrived in Kiev a little before eight. Over an hour would be enough to get to the metro stop and find the airport. I met Rob at the metro stop, we went above ground, hoping to see an airport, and saw trees. There was a highway too, but mostly there were trees and a gas station. We asked a few people for directions. They told us there were mashrutkas at the bus station across the street. At that stop, they told us that we would have to go across another street, but the people waiting there knew nothing about the bus.
At this point, we had ten minutes before the flight was supposed to land. Not wanting my family to show up in Kiev alone and confused, I decided to pay a taxi to take us out there. I later learned that there are busses the travel from the train station to the airport all day long.
We rushed to the airport, searched for the arrivals board and found that their plane had been delayed an hour. So we waited. Their flight landed, and we waited some more. Finally, people from their flight started pouring out of the gates and Rob, who had never met my family before, started to play a game of, “Is that your family?”
Explain that my mother doesn’t have bleach blonde hair or wear leopard print and that my father is not Asian did pass the time, but the line of people slowed to a crawl and there was still no sign of my family. I actually began to worry. I hadn’t checked my e-mail since the evening before. What if they missed the flight?
Then I saw my brother’s characteristic Australian hat walking toward the exit. Three hours later than expected, they finally arrived in Ukraine.
We spent the day gawking at Kiev. We visited the Golden Gate, the Friendship Arch and walked down Khryshatyk. The day seemed fairly normal to me, but I could remember how it first felt to try and figure out Ukraine.
My brother was surprised to find that packs of dogs routinely roam the streets. As we walked down Khryshatyk, the street closes on weekends to let tourists walk on the road, my dad commented as a car drove down the sidewalk. Most of all, I think everyone was surprised that, even in big restaurants, there is no air conditioning.
Eventually, the day was over and it was time to get on the train to L’viv. The train, thankfully, was the nicest I’ve been on in this country. We had no problems until the next morning. Our tickets said we would be arriving around 7:30. I asked someone and she told me 7:30. Either I misunderstood something, or the train arrived early, but come 6:30 our train stopped in a station. The train porter started yelling at us to get off of her train.
Well, my parents had unpacked the night before on the train. There were clothes all over our cabin. I simply skipped getting dressed; planning to freshen up at the station, but my family was trapped in the car trying to get everything into a bag. If I weren’t worried about all of our things being thrown out of the train onto the platform in a pile, I would have laughed as my brother pulled a pair of shorts on over his pajamas, my mom shoved things in a bag that my father was holding open and I stood in the hall apologizing over and over to the furious conductor. Needless to say, they didn’t unpack on the train home. We were ready about two hours before the train actually left Kiev station.
Posted on August 18, 2010
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