1st impressions expanded

alighting from the plane in kiev we crowded onto a bus for the short trip to the terminal. this is when percy decided she'd had enough. she started to cry. thankfully not the ear-spliting, shake-your-very-core cry, just a consistent, whingeing, plaintive wail. it's still quite distressing. well, it is for the parents of the child.
in the terminal we completed the entry form and turned to join the queue for passport control. ukrainians don't queue. there was about four desks operating to serve i would estimate 200 people. these 200 just milled and pushed to get to the front. we're too polite for our own good and kept getting shoved to the back of the mass. then, small mercies! percy leapt to the rescue with more sustained crying and some nice woman near the front yelled at us to push through and get to the desk faster. at least we assume that's what she said. the fifty or so people between us and the desk turned, "humphed" and barely made space for us to squeeze to the front. on these sorts of occasions i'm not going to say "no, thank you." so i probably stood on a few toes, literally, and bashed a few elbows and pissed people off by not having the entry form completed correctly and having to re-do them at the desk and take a long time doing so.
but we were in.

baggage collection was thankfully straightforward and we exited the air side to the land side thru opaque sliding doors to confront a real ukrainian crush. don't the bastards understand if you stand back and let people thru your long absent relative (or whoever you are clamouring to meet) will have a better opportunity to make it out? so we ran over a few more toes pushing our luggage trolley to where we hoped paul would see someone he recognised.
the boss of the kiev office was there with his nice new honda. we'd previously queried whether we could get a taxi that had a baby capsule. we were assured that 'no-one bothers with that here, it's not necessary." this i took to mean was because everyone still got about in horse and carts and the risk from collision was low. ha ha. voldya drove us the 40 kilometres from the airport to the city at i would estimate an average speed of 140km/hr. i did see the speedometre read 165 at one point. there are more fatal accidents in kiev per vehicles on the road than in any other city that keeps such records. in fact we have learnt the statistic here is something like 13 times more accidents than in sydney.
and all the protection percy had was being strapped tightly to my chest in the hug-a-bug sling.
since this experience we have become accustomed to getting in taxis with no capsule- it'll will almost feel weird to come home and have to use one again. i would also point out that voldya has two children and provides child booster seats for them. is my offspring worth less than his?

despite the view whipping by at such speed the drive to the apartment was interesting. we saw the huge disparagey (i can't spell this morning- bad nite with percy- i know that's not right, but can't think what is) between the rich in their lexus's and bmw's and the moderately okay in their old lada's and the downright poor walking or on very crammed buses. the difference in architecture from the soviet era to today was also clear. i think harry t would love this place. the level of corruption and heavy-handed dealing i understand would make him feel very comfortable. the disinterest in any public spaces appeared nearly as strong as i observed in dubai.

anyways, we finally arrived at our apartment. "oh my god", just let me repeat that "oh my god." a lumbering soviet era building with falling tiles, no paint since before lenin, badly cracked concrete, and an entire air of "i'm miserable and at the end of my life, don't talk to me."
i was anxiously trying to convince myself that this wasn't it and we'd just stopped to pick something up, like maybe the keys to our nice apartment, in a nice building, somewhere far away from this monolith. not so. we clambered out; those hondas aren't that big a car really. round to the front of the building trying to dodge the weeds and the broken tiles and the dripping water on the way and up a short flight of unwelcoming stairs thru a door that i swear probably came from a de-commissioned concentration camp, into a stair well that was so small two people can barely pass, if of course they can see each other in the gloom and aren't trying to watch were they put their feet so they don't trip over the disgusting floor mats. voldya knocks on a door on the first floor- at least we don't have to climb up six flights of stairs- and a half naked man opens the door. right! clearly we are at the wrong place and i turn to go. again, not so. this man is the owner of the apartment who is here cleaning it in anticipation of our arrival. they (he and his wife) did a poor job. another gripe.
well, i'm too exhausted by this time to protest that much. the apartment, while tiny, belies the expected horror of the outside of the building and is modern enough. i claim the bedroom to unpack percy, feed and generally breathe. paul is taken off to a supermarket to stock us up for awhile and the ukrainians finish cleaning.

it was quite an introduction. i was very happy that the travelling was over and also happy to have voldya translate and smooth the path for us a little. i was dismayed by our building but content with the apartment itself. i thought the neighbourhood would take some getting used to- we're definately in the 'burbs and not necessarily the rose bay or hunters hill version, more like the mt druitt version. it's certainly interesting and i was eagerly anticipating getting out and exploring it. after sleeping first. maybe a bit more sleeping...