ODESSA, UKRAINE

2015-10-27, 18:45, JASON

STAY: BABUSHKA GRAND HOSTEL

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We came into Odessa, Ukraine from Transnistria, the breakaway Moldova region, on an afternoon bus. One of the main reasons for visiting the Ukraine was because from the capital Kiev, it was cheap to get to Hungary, and from Hungary, home to London. Nevermind that the 2014 revolution had just taken place February of that year (we traveled in October). But, as it is with traveling, once you get to the country it's never as bad as it looks on T.V. But, that's with respect to the tourism front, not to defuse the seriousness of the revolution. Odessa was pretty far from the action anyhow, it was more when we got to Kiev when we noticed remnants of the revolution. Continuing on to Odessa:

We get in, but not without our difficulties. Passing from Transnistria to Odessa, completing a border crossing, is a weird thing to do, especially as a U.S. and U.K. citizen. On the bus ride over, most people on that bus were either Moldovan or Ukrainian, and we were the only tourists. Given the current events that unfolded beforehand, they were suspicious of us. On the bus, they asked us politely to step off and have our bags inspected. Thorin and I travel light, just two backpacks. We walk into a room, and there are guards with machine guns (I think? Not sure about gun varieties). They stare at us as if we're supplying the war effort I suppose. The guy tries to talk to us but there's no communication between our non-existent Russian and his English. They ask a female guard to come, and she speaks to us in a very burly Russian accent, "What are you doing here?""We're here as tourists, to see Odessa.""Just Odessa?""No, Odessa for two days, then Kiev. From Kiev we have a flight to Budapest (translation: we're leaving quickly, don't worry)"Let me see your bags."She flips through our bags, unravels all our dirty clothes (we're on the tail end of the trip). I get dry eyes from the cold weather, and she thought the eyedrops were drugs or something. She asked what they were and I just responded, "eyedrops, dry eyes." Eventually, they let us go, but it was funny. Scary at the time, though.

After that success, the first thing to do is of course find the hostel. The station is absolutely nuts, with a lot of people bustling around everywhere.. in general, just a lot of people. We wander the streets like the tourists we is, and eventually find the street of the hostel. But, we can't seem to find the number. We walk up and down the street what seems to be 10 times (no joke) before we muster up the courage to ask an old lady (babushka!!) where our hostel is, "Um... excuse me do you know where Babushka Grand Hostel is?" She actually knows! She points to a busted up red door and we're a bit skeptical, but we ring the bell anyway and the buzzer goes off for us to go in. OK -- we thought -- a few concrete steps in Ukranian Soviet fashion, not bad.. and then we get to the front door. The door opens and this tall Ukrainian guy opens the door, smiles, and says, "WELCOME!" As an aside, the Russian (and, also technically Ukrainian, although I do not know about the politics of language utilization in this context and so forgive me if I've made a faulty extension) have a distinct L sound, with a heavier and lighter variety. You'll find that's why a lot of Russians have a very throaty L sound with English words spelled with that letter. This guy has a deep L, thrown up from the back of his throat when he says it: "WELLLLLLcome!" I guess we've made it to Ukraine.

Any indication of the house exterior couldn't be extrapolated to its interior decor. It was legit. A grand room, carpet in the center, high ceiling, small upright piano, few couches, and these old Soviet style curtains. Actually, it was just like walking into someone's house (I'd imagine) in Ukraine. In the corner, a small kitchen with some Ukrainians sitting. The man who greeted us, Bogdan, takes our passport info and shows us to our room. In it? Some guys from Ukrainian military and one South Korean guy (more on him in a bit).

Because we had spent most of the day in Transnistria, we got into Ukraine a bit late and did some rudimentary sightseeing around. Most of the pictures are in dusk so we apologize, but they'll have to do. It captures the moment. We go check out the opera house, and also some Orthodox churches. Odessa is actually a port city, and during the summer it's actually a hot beach destination. I would definitely go back there in the summer just to check out the beach scene. However, as we went in October, it was getting cold already. Check out some of the sightseeing we did below

Odessa overall was chilled out. OK, sightseeing aside, part of what made the city so memorable was four(ish) people we met. Remember Bogdan? Right, he was one of them. The second was Oleg, an 18 year old Cadet who had just joined the Ukraine army, and, yes, the South Korean man, who asked us to address him as "Mr. Kim." I'm going to attempt to capture what they were like. The last man, a Bosnian-Serb whose name I'm not sure.

Oleg we met when we first got there, as he was staying with the other cadets in the dorm. Seemed a bit serious at first but, really at the end of it, I think it was just a language barrier. His English was a broken functional (again, better than our Russian), so we communicated fine. Bosnian-Serb man (here on, "The Bosnian") was an English teacher residing in Odessa and so his English was the best. He had been teaching there for a while. Bogdan was a BFG - tall, burly Ukranian guy but jolly, with a thick Ukrainian accent. And, Mr. Kim...

It's really hard to describe him. He was the most down to Earth man, and he had a pocketful of catch phrases. One was "same, same" spoken in a quick two-time double-tap. Ask him a question about something, and he'll smile sometimes and just say "same, same." The other was "head pro-pell-a," which meant head propeller, which meant his head felt like a propeller after drinking. Apparently, Bogdan, Oleg, and Mr. Kim had spent some time drinking before we arrived. So, when we sat in the kitchen, it was 2 Ukrainians, 1 Englishman, 1 South Korean, 1 Bosnian, and me. The reason I say it was 4 ish new people was because the owner of the house (what we presume is TheBabushka of Babushka Grand Hostel) was also sat there with us.  There was also a serious cadet guy, whose only interaction with us was sitting down at the table with us during dinner, eating some cucumbers and some porridge, then returning back to his room. He must have seen some stuff in the revolution..

Bogdan and Oleg suggested an "international drinking night" with all of us one night, and we consented. Went down to the local mart, and got some beers at cheap, and then returned to the hostel. The same night, we found out that Mr. Kim and us nad the same sleeper train overnight to Kiev, the capital, to be caught at 23:00 or so. Time to get started early, right.

I tend to prefer hostels in which the host does not speak perfect English, since it makes communication albeit more primal (hand waving), more authentic. I hate to keep harping on about people's English language abilities, since they're all fluent in many other languages (which is far more impressive, in my opinion), but the English aspect of it is what made it interesting. Although in the past I'd be quick to reach for Google Translate, I appreciated how the Bosnian translated between Ukrainian and English for us, and took the time to explain things to Mr. Kim without a translation device. Just hands and gestures. Same with Bogdan and Oleg, they would collaborate on how to say a Russian word in English, verify it by the Bosnian, then translate it to us in the best way possible. Mr. Kim, would communicate to us using very few English words, but we were all best friends at the end of the night, somehow. It really goes to show that you don't need English as a lingua franca when traveling. It helps, of course, but it's just too comfortable to depend on it.

As the night progresses, we just start drinking. We keep drinking and it gets jollier. Mr. Kim, per Korean (and possibly Asian) culture, does not pour his own beer, but when poured a small glass, he grabs it humbly with two hands, does a mild head bow, and CHUGS. "Gahamsamnida." We all laugh. "Same same!" So, we pour him another one, and he mimics the same action and chugs again. I think he'd downed 7 or 8 glasses by the time we all had 3. It was a great night, and we made some good friends along the way. Oleg shared some stories about the army, and how he watched his friends get drafted to go join the revolution movement.

Time eventually comes for us to catch our train, and in the cold of night, both Bogdan, Bosnian, and Oleg dress up and come to walk with us to the station from where we came into Odessa to send us off. We were all pretty tipsy by then and being a bit obnoxious.. nevermind. Standing there on that platform, we find our sleeper cart to get into and say a final goodbye to the peeps in Ukraine. Mr. Kim says a final head propeller as we laugh and he gets onto his cart. We would see him in Kiev. As to Bogdan, Oleg, and the Bosnian, they helped make our time there very memorable. We won't ever forget it. And, if you're ever in Odessa, check out the Babushka Grand Hostel. It's quite an experience.

The sleeper cart is amazing. It's stacked two on two, cozy. We got the bottom bunks for convenience, with our bags hidden below us. Then, we pass out for the long journey to Kiev.. woken up every hour or so when the train stops.