This is #3 of 4 on the posts I had written over the weekend but couldn’t get posted because of FTP problems at my hotel …
Some cities have a single striking image from the air, such as Chicago’s Loop (with the Sears Tower and Hancock Building) or downtown Seattle (with the Space Needle). The approach into Beijing, on the other hand, was mile after mile of seemingly endless civilization. The buildings disappeared into the haze, conveying a sense of enormity and mystery, and there was a combination of local structure (tidy uniform rows within each area) and overall chaos that I liked.
The airport was big, modern, and efficiently managed — passport control and customs went very smooth compared to Kiev. Then, right outside baggage claim, I met the driver my friend and colleague Joe Lee had arranged for me. I saw the DOUG MAHUGH sign he was waving, but he already was pointing at me; apparently Joe had forewarned him of my dashing good looks or something.
We went directly from the airport to the Great Wall (I’ll post those photos separately). Here’s a shot during the approach, and my driver in one of the tunnels through the mountains outside the city:
Here are a few more shots I liked from Friday and Saturday:
Those first two pictures above are at a church that the czar’s daughter had built for her wedding, but she died before it was completed and never got married. (I don’t recall the names, sorry.) Anyway, while we were in the church Nina told me of how long ago the Ukraine was both Christian and Muslim, but then it became predominantly Christian because “Ukraine people like to drink and have fun, and Muslim religion has too many rules.” I found it ironically amusing that while she was saying that, the priest in black above came over and asked us to be quiet. 
The taxi drive to the airport in Kiev yesterday was pretty fun, a brand-new Audi driven at speeds of up to 200 kilometers per hour (124MPH) by a tall young guy who listened to techno-pop very loud as if he didn’t care what the customer thought. I tipped heavily for this refreshing behavior, of course.
Then, at the airport, one last bit of bureaucracy. I was 2 hours early for my flight, 2:05 to be precise, and the security guard wouldn’t let me go through their first checkpoint for 5 minutes. I came back after 6 minutes, 1:59 before my flight, and he sternly said “not yet, I told you!”
So I sat in the bar and downed a beer slowly, pondering why leopard skin and python patterns are so popular in Kiev. There were five such outfits within view at the moment, including the one framed here. And since the women all wear those ultra-high heeled boots too, I’m thinking somebody could make a fortune shipping to Kiev a bunch of leopard-skin boots with spike heels. That’s my entrepreneurial tip for the day.
And now I’m in Beijing. More on that soon.
I went back to Independence Square in Kiev on Saturday, and there were two obvious differences from my visit on Friday: it wasn’t raining, and a few thousand more protesters showed up. There were even some speeches from politicians. But it was the same passionless performance, just a lot more of it and more colorful due to the sunshine.
This time I had a local guide with me, arranged by my colleague Valeriy. Nina was very knowledgable about Kiev’s history, and she also taught me a bit about what’s really going on in these protests. It seems that the president has tried to disband the corrupt and inefficient parliament, and as a result the parliament and some of their backers have started paying poor people to come in from the hinterlands and march around with signs. This explains the odd combination of military precision in the marching — everyone in well-organized columns with no random movement at all — and general lack of interest on the part of the participants. Other than an occasional choreographed chant (which never lasted more than a minute), the people marching looked like they could simply be waiting in an unusually long line at the nearby McDonald’s.
By the way, regarding the colored flags: the dark red flags are communists, the pink flags are socialists, and the blue and yellow flags are Ukrainian nationalists. Blue is for the sky and yellow is for the wheat that grows in the famously rich Ukrainian soil.
Nina told me how she and thousands of other Kiev citizens had been there for the Orange Revolution protests in 2004, yelling their demands in the freezing cold, but for this protest she said nobody in Kiev would go near it except to see the spectacle. Her contempt for the whole scene was obvious, and I realized this is probably why my co-workers all told me to stay away: not because they feared for my safety, but because they were embarrassed by this largely fake demonstration in the capital of a country that has long taken pride in its passionate and emotional people.
Nina took me around to see a few sights, such as the birthplace of the Bloody Mary and many fancy buildings, which I’ll put in a separate post. You know me, I took more interest in a well-organized and well-led pack of stray dogs than most of the fancy architecture. To each their own.
I have a bunch of new pictures from Kiev and Beijing I’d like to post here, but I can’t seem to find any way to FTP to my web site from here in my hotel room in Beijing. I can FTP to my hosting accounting at Textdrive (that’s how I updated the header above), but not to Mahugh.com.
Hmm, the Chinese government is rather well-known for having a heavy hand in policing internet traffic. Is Mahugh.com an address you can’t FTP to here in China? Come on guys, I’m trying to bring down the US government, not the Chinese government!
Anyway, I’ll try tomorrow from the local Microsoft office. If that doesn’t work, I may have to go over to Tianeman Square and protest the situation.
The protests in front of the capital weren’t quite what I expected. The photo above is the one and only time anybody raised their voice or showed any passion or excitement.
The guy on the right — who was obviously drunk — was yelling to the crowd, giving what appeared to be a fire-and-brimstone sort of speech, and whenever he paused the little guy in the hat with the thick glasses and orthopedic shoes would yell “nyet!” and stamp his foot. Then the guy giving the speech stamped his foot back and laughed, and suddenly the two of them were dancing while the crowd broke into laughter. After that moment of excitement, everybody went back to drinking, text messaging, and playing kick-the-bottle-cap.
The protestors had tents pitched right on the square in front of the capital, with big tent stakes pounded into the gaps between the stone tiles. That was sort of cool. But seriously, it was just a bunch of guys sitting around drinking and waving flags. The bar I slipped into when the rain really started coming down was scarier than the revolution, and that’s not saying much. What does a guy have to do to get in trouble around here?
It was rainy and cloudy, so I didn’t get any spectacular pictures, but tomorrow’s another day, for both the pictures and the trouble. Maybe I’ll try to get out to Chernobyl — how far is that, Dennis?
My work in Kiev is done. Sure, I could spend the next 12 hours on email no problem, but I won’t. Just as I decided I needed a few hours of photo safari in Prague, and again in Munich, so too today it’s time to get out of the hotel and see the world. And the world I’ll see today is central Kiev.
I delivered a 3-hour “CIO workshop” this morning to a bunch of executives, government officials, and press. It was cool: they had the event right here in my hotel, so I just had to take the elevator down to the first floor. I slowed way down, compared to yesterday’s 9-hour session across town, and the translators were actually smiling when we finished, unlike yesterday when they threatened to walk out if I didn’t slow down. I’m learning, guys.
Then I had lunch at the hotel restaurant, my first meal in the Ukraine outside my hotel room or a meeting room. I sat there looking at the menu, and hearing Paul McCartney sing “Get Back” made me think of how there are only two pop-culture references to Kiev or the Ukraine that we Americans know: the line from “Back in the USSR” about “the Ukraine girls really knock me out,” and Chicken Kiev. (Is there a third? I can’t think of one.) So I ordered the Chicken Kiev.
And I was so glad that I did. It was spectacular! Seriously, I wished I had brought my camera to lunch. Colorful steamed vegetables, juicy breaded chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, a sauce to die for, and interesting garnish of green onions. Oh, and red wine by the glass so good I suddenly realized I had had three.
And, then after “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” (Beatles greatest-hits album?), suddenly there it was, the opening riff of the white album “flew in from Miami Beach BOAC” … I found myself listening to “Back in the USSR” while eating Chicken Kiev, in Kiev. The busgirl with the huge painted-on eyebrows didn’t seem to understand why I gave her that knowing smile during the signature line, but I was enjoying it so much I just didn’t care.
Anyway, I’m headed out to take pictures for a few hours, and I’m ignoring all the advice I’ve received. Valeriy, Kateryna, Oksana, I know you all meant well, but you must understand: when I hear “don’t go near the capital, the demonstrations Friday afternoon could be dangerous for a tourist,” that just seals my fate. Orange Revolution II, here I come!
Watch CNN tonight, Megan. I’m the one in all black with a shaved head. If the protests are anything like the meetings I’ve attended, I’ll also be the only man present who isn’t wearing a leather jacket.
“Let me hear your balalaika’s ringing out …”
I’m in Kiev — just arrived at my hotel at 1:00AM. There was a spectacular red full moon when we landed, and everything about this place screams out “you’re not in Europe any more, Doug.” I wish I had time to do it justice, but I need to sleep so I’ll save all my adjectives for some other time. Everything’s different here: the alphabet, the look of the people (I’d take the guys on this flight over any other flight I’ve been on this trip in a brawl), the architecture, everything. More on all that later.
My taxi driver told me they’ve been having big protests the last few days, because people want the government dismissed. Sounds like a photo op!
This was the most bureaucratic airport (passport and customs red tape), slowest baggage claim, longest commute to the hotel, and most expensive hotel of this trip by far. (Let’s just say I’ve played 18 holes at Pebble Beach for less than this hotel costs per night.) But I can’t wait to do the workshop tomorrow, another one on Friday for a different audience, and then I’m going to have 24 hours of photo safari in the Ukrainian capital.
My China visa came through just a few hours before my flight out of Munich today, so I’m headed to Beijing next. Things are falling into place, and now I just need to get a few hours sleep. Megan should be landing in Minneapolis right about now, headed for home.
The artwork they have around here is pretty weird, to my pedestrian taste. Maybe I need to read Megan’s book entitled “How to Read a Modern Painting.”
For a glimpse of what I’ve been up to here while Megan has been out reading paintings, check out the work blog. That photo was taken in Baltschug, the room to the right of the woman mowing the lawn.
Saturday afternoon we took the train down to Marienplatz (St. Mary’s Square) and walked around taking pictures. I decided I’ve been stuck in a rut with horizontal-format pics lately, so these are all vertical. Maybe now I can get back to a balanced mix of the two.
In addition to the spectacular gothic architecture, we had some good people-watching opportunities because there was an animal-rights protest taking place when we arrived, and a football game had just let out when we decided to take the train back to the hotel.
Today Megan’s out at the museums and I’m in the hotel catching up on work. I’m not real patient with museums anyway, because they never let you take pictures. (I always take pictures anyway, of course, but it’s a drag to have to be so sneaky about it.)
Happy April Fool’s Day!
