Peace Corps: Ezra’s Int’l Traveling Experience
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An old friend of mine named Ezra, from a small town on the Oregon coast, is living and working as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ukraine. He keeps a sporadically updated (yet fascinatingly detailed) blog called Small Fish in the Sea.
Here’s an excerpt from his latest entry, dated 8 November:
The next big event was Cameron’s and my trip to Poland. It was classic Ukraine travel experience. To start it off, we knew that the bus left at 11 a.m. in a different town and the only way we could get there was to catch a bus from my town at 7:30 a.m. The next left about 10:30 and wouldn’t get there in time. So we got to Chervonograd. A charming (not so much) city constructed around coal mining and isn’t the safest or cleanest place. I enjoy comparing the bus station we waited in to the spaceport Luke Skywalker went to in the first movie. A dingy place with a lot of shady characters. Thankfully the cold weather kept most of the beggars at home. To add the adventure we tried to buy tickets for this bus not knowing how many people might be going and were told that we needed to come back later. So we did and were told the same thing. The last time we asked was about 10:30 and was told the same thing, yet again. My personal philosophy, which has served me well in about 90 percent of cases, just get on the bus and pay the driver. That way I know I am at least going. So Cameron and I walk out to the bus and are securing his luggage under the bus when I get asked if I have any cigarettes. My only reply was I don’t smoke, but my buddy has some. As Cameron tried to offer him a cigarette, he completely ignored it and was eager for me to take a box of cigarettes across the border for him. Only I didn’t figure this out until about 5 minutes later after about three other people had asked me the same question. I was getting to meet the (in) famous cigarette smuggles I had been warned about. So after I said I had already promised another guy I would carry some they lost interest until they heard we were Americans living in Ukraine and single. It gave a group of middle-aged ladies something to talk about for the entire trip. Not that I paid too much attention, mostly just caught snatches of my town name, my name and American. Probably trying to think of a good woman for me. Common problem.
So we take off and the bus is not full, maybe half full, but the excitement was just getting underway. I’m seeing piles of cigarettes and alcohol when people are only allowed to take across two boxes and a little bit of alcohol. Taxes are a lot lower in Ukraine so it can be profitable to carry stuff across the border and sell it again. People are hiding cigarettes in nooks and crannies in the bus, stuffing them into black nylon stockings and hiding them under seats when smoke starts pouring into the bus. We are sort of looking around in disbelief as the cabin is filling with smoke when Cameron pipes up with, “I think we have a problem.” That brings the place down and as we pull over to the side of the road windows are being opened to try and vent out the smoke. Our bus caught fire. As the driver gets out, the problems stems from the heater. We had boarded the bus still being able to see our breath and the heater was a nice touch to warm up my cold feet. Unfortunately it was too good to last, of course, and after the heater was turned off we got back on our way, the smoke eventually cleared.
There’s plenty more where that came from. Pay a visit to Ezra’s blog, Small Fish in the Sea.