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After ten months living abroad, traveling through Eastern Europe, the former Soviet Union and even parts of the Middle East, it's finally over. Tomorrow, I'm going home. Although 'home' is still a fluid term for me, since I am starting law school in a city I have only visited once, briefly, I am looking forward to being back in the U.S. On the other hand, I am not looking forward to a future of explaining that Kyiv is not in Russia, that Ukrainian is it's own language or any number of questions regarding world geography. Although I expect law students to be smarter than the average American, even bright Americans have continually shocked me with their ignorance of the rest of the world.
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In other words, coming home will likely entail some degree of culture shock. Living abroad has confirmed some personal suspicions - I will never be the kind of person who is happy staying in one place. Already, I am planning my next escape at winter break and an international internship for next summer.
Hopefully, my career will lead me abroad and allow me to continue my slow, but methodical adventure across the globe. Tonight, my last night in Kyiv, we went to the outdoor, ethnographic museum outside of the city, Perehovo, to celebrate Ivana Kupala, a traditional Ukrainian holiday celebrating blossoming of nature (really an old pagan holiday). The museum itself dates back to Stalin's era, lying on a large territory, with homes and churches transplanted from all regions of Ukraine (as part of an attempt to salvage Ukrainian culture that would have otherwise been decimated by Stalin's five year plan). In any case, we expected a fairly mellow and uneventful evening. Traditionally, women wear flower wreathes on their heads and men drink 'samohonka' (moonshine) until they find the courage to jump over the bonfire.
Not sure when the festivities would begin in earnest, we wandered off the beaten path to find some blossoms suitable for wreath weaving. Suddenly, we noticed a large crowd of people ambling down the path near our clearing, led by the President of Ukraine, Victor Yushchenko. Of course, chaos ensued.
We joined the crowd, clamoring to get a better glimpse of him, following him to the pile of wood and branches that would be the evening's bonfire. Although he had an extensive security detail, it was still shocking to be able to stand so close to him.
(Kinda makes you understand how his poisoning was made possible.) We spent the next hour or so waiting for events to begin, but his presence made anything other than standing around, trying to get a picture of him impossible. Of course, in typical Ukrainian fashion, we got totally and completely lost on our way home, since 'remont' closed down several streets and clear signage has yet to come to Kyiv. We finally made it home, about an hour later, which gave me plenty of time to take one good, long last look at Kyiv. Although living here has exasperated me at times (ok, often) and made me long for home, I will miss its sullen faces, uneven sidewalks, lively markets and musty smelling metro. The night train to Baku was surpisingly painless, although my standards have gotten pretty low since first moving to Ukraine back in September. Despite having tickets in an SV kupe (first class), our compartment looks like a regular kupe, only without the top bunks.