Oct 012010
 

In the late 1700’s, Count StanisΕ‚aw SzczΔ™sny Potocki, a Polish noble, fell in love with Zofia Potocka, a Greek slave and prostitute. He bought her from her husband for two million zΕ‚oty, married her, and began construction on what is now one of Ukraine’s greatest wonders: a 150-hectare park complete with grottoes, lakes, waterfalls, fountains, pavilions, and 500 species of trees imported from all across Europe.

It’s been described as “Ukraine’s answer to Versailles” – the Count’s gift to his new wife, and a monument to her physical perfection. By the time construction was finished in 1802 it had cost him roughly 15 million zΕ‚oty.

What a gift, ‘eh?

Although I’m usually not that big on gardens and parks, it just so happens that Sofiyivka Park is located in Uman, a major transit hub right between Odesa and Kiev – the perfect way to split up a long 7-hour journey and tick one more item off this sprawling country’s “must-see” list. So after checking out of Hotel Zirka at noon, hopping on yet another impossibly rickety minibus, and sleeping off all those shots of Ukrainian vodka from the night prior, we disembarked in our first Ukrainian “small town.”

It was around 6pm by the time we arrived and checked our bags at the bus station. And although we had only a couple hours to spare until the last bus onward to Kiev, I had to make just one quick stop before heading into the park itself: a small music shop right next door. For the few minutes we spent sorting ourselves out at the bus station it had been blasting some really fantastic tunes, so for the low-low price of about one euro I convinced the owner to let me copy his demo playlist onto my laptop.

Optical drives maybe outdated, but they do still come in handy from time to time πŸ˜‰

Then we headed into the park – which was conveniently located right across the street from the bus terminal.

While Sofiyivka Park was indeed magnificent, to me the most striking aspect of the day wasn’t the natural beauty – it was the people. There was an immediately obvious difference in the vibe between these small-town residents and those of bustling Odesa.

As I’m sure you gathered from my previous post, although I did have loads of fun in Odesa, I didn’t really leave with the most positive impression – especially considering how much it had been built up by friends and contacts who’d visited in the past. The nightlife was top notch, the beaches fun, and the women stunning – just as everyone said – but on a whole I just didn’t find it to be all that friendly. Take yesterday for example, when Peder and I were trying to find Marshrutka 84 to get to the catacombs. Sure, the language barrier was part of the problem – but many of the people we asked for help were also quite rude, refusing to even acknowledge us or make any effort to understand what we were looking for. By the time our last day in Odesa had rolled around, what had initially started as innocent curiosity about an interesting new city had turned to constant suspicion, thoughts of “Are they mafia and dangerous to talk to?” “Is she a prostitute?” “Are those cops coming over to shake us down?” So despite all the positives it was a bit difficult to enjoy ourselves when we never felt like we could quite let our guards down.

Yet the people here in Uman were completely different. Although their English may’ve been no better than in Odesa, the cold stonefaced stares were replaced by inquisitive smiles and handshakes as soon as they overheard us speaking something other than Russian. It felt more like Asia, where being a foreigner is an asset instead of a liability. Children would chirp out with the few phrases they knew and young men would come up to say “Hi! Where country?!” If we stopped to ask a woman for directions she’d try to help with a smile rather than shove her nose in the air and ignore us completely – not surprising I suppose, because here she probably isn’t approached by drunken mafia or starry-eyed tourists day in and day out. In general, the people of Uman just had a noticeably more innocent and friendly vibe. There wasn’t a hint of that brash Odesa feel – never did we feel suspicious of someone else’s intentions. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from our shoulders.

Perhaps the funniest and most memorable encounter of the day was a young guy who overheard us chatting in the park. The moment he noticed we were speaking English he froze in his tracks, spun around, his eyes lit up, and he shouted with a smile, “Oh! Hello! I Sergei! I… I… I… Umm… Goodbye!”

Then he turned and scurried away. I guess it took him a moment to remember that he didn’t speak our language πŸ˜†

It’s really too bad we don’t speak a bit more Russian (er, any Russian). In a party environment it’s easy to convey your vibe by giving high fives, taking photos, buying rounds of drinks, and just being fun – but during the day in somewhere like a park, there’s only so far you can get without the ability to hold a genuine conversation.

We spent a total of about two hours roaming around Uman’s sprawling monument to beauty and nature, before emerging – by accident – on the far side from the bus station. But we figured a brisk walk through town would offer a nice last-minute peek at the small-town side of the country, so we decided to circle the park’s border before catching the onward bus to Kiev.

…The bus we almost missed, when the route around the park turned out to be substantially longer than we’d anticipated. At one point, when it looked like we may not make it back in time, Peder actually suggested the possibility of spending a night in Uman – an idea inspired by his positive impression of the friendly locals – but I figured it’d be better to press on. In the end, we made it with 10 minutes to spare.

…Just enough time to pop into the music shop once more and copy yet another great compilation the owner was now blasting out the window πŸ™‚

Then, we climbed aboard the minibus and begin our requisite transport trouble of the day.

This time, the problem was luggage…

  15 Responses to “What A Gift”

  1. wonderful photo’s of the park.

  2. Thanks! πŸ™‚ The lighting was pretty bad, but I tried…

  3. Hey, Nice write-up – Shame I didn’t know in advance you would be in Uman.

    I’m an American stuck in this beautiful/horrific excuse for a city for another year – haven’t met another foreigner yet – would love to have sat down for a coffee with you.

    (I’m a web-developer – I’m sure we would have found something to talk about)

  4. Wow, that’s a pretty weird coincidence! Were you a reader before I happened to pass through Uman, or did you just find me because of this post? πŸ™‚

  5. Nope, was not a reader – but I am now πŸ™‚

    I have been traveling* the past few years as well, I freelance for several companies in the US
    Most of my clients dont even know that I am overseas.

    I try to do a few months in each country so i can pick up the language – once im fluent I move on to the next.

  6. FLUENT in a few months? You must be a hell of a lot smarter than me…or maybe you just study more and party a lot less, hehe πŸ™‚

  7. Nope, i developed a system I use (Read it, hear it, say it, think it, write it – repeat twice for every word)
    Im fluent in 4 languages – understand another few.

  8. Dude, I just realized we have mucho in common.

    The past year i was living in Jerusalem – spent a few months in Dahab (out of 22 countries and 100’s of cities – Dahab managed to make my top 5)

  9. Sorry – few weeks in dahab*

  10. >>Nope, i developed a system I use (Read it, hear it, say it, think it, write it – repeat twice for every word)

    Still, it does take a certain amount of natural talent to be able to develop fluency so quickly…that’s really awesome πŸ™‚ Or maybe I just shouldn’t have chosen such a damn impossible language as my “first second language” πŸ˜›

    >>Im fluent in 4 languages – understand another few.

    Awesome! Which, just out of curiosity?

    >>spent a few months in Dahab (out of 22 countries and 100β€²s of cities – Dahab managed to make my top 5)

    Yeah, I definitely enjoyed Dahab – wouldn’t put it in my top 5 though. It’s a nice place to kick back and relax, but far from a “real city” – it’s more like a cheap, laid back tourist mecca πŸ˜›

  11. English, Russian, Hebrew – And yes, Yiddish!

    I understand Arabic, Ukrainian, German & spanish.

    Right now im working on Urdu & Hindi.

    I’m 24 now (left home at 13), my goal is to speak 10 languages fluently by the time I’m 30

    Japanese is not even on my agenda yet, although I have been tempted to try.

    Believe it or not, I had a client who needed to get a site ( http://www.glennys.com ) up ASAP – I designed it in one day (rather then 8) while sitting on the beach in Dahab – I just had the peace of mind to do it.

  12. Wow that’s pretty awesome – haha but YIDDISH! I must say, I could think of one or two slightly more handy languages πŸ˜‰

    I haven’t been to India yet, but it’s on my list. I’m planning to go to either Argentina/Antarctica or SE Asia by the end of this year…

    I sure hope you only designed, not fully designed and implemented it in one day…now THAT would be impressive!

  13. I’m enjoying this comment thread more than the actual post now. I need to get started on a travelling programmer blog so I can network too. πŸ˜›

  14. I’ve been telling you that for years! πŸ˜›

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