Yesterday was an interesting day for me. Everything was normal until after my language lesson (approximately 5pm). I hopped on a bus marked 11, which is the one I always take home. We left the station and headed in the right direction, but turned at a strange intersection. I had been hearing the conductor saying something, but that was nothing new (they always seem to be talking). Since I never understand anyway, I sometimes tune them out. I am aware that is not the greatest idea, but it is so easy to do when so little is understandable. After a while I realized she was saying "Chetviorti marshrut" which means "4th route." I was confused because the bus was marked 11. The only thing I was able to do was ask the lady next to me if it was in fact 11. She frowned and shook her head. Fortunately I sort of knew where I was so I got off and had a walk ahead of me.
I squeezed into another bus, the doors closed and a fight broke out between the two men in the doorway (directly behind me). They were in very close quarters, yet still able to punch and shove very well. They were also yelling, but I have not learned that vocabulary yet. I tried to mind my own business and prayed that it wouldn't escalate to somehow involve the stupid American. It calmed down in time for me to squeeze by them on my way out the door at my stop.
I arrived home shortly before 7 and was just beginning to calm down and help with supper when the phone rang. My friend, Yegor, had been in town and had found out there was a Donetsk Shakthar (soccer) game. I know little about soccer, but I had heard that Donetsk is in the European Champions League. That is a big deal in Europe and quite an accomplishment for the Donetsk team. Anyway, Barcelona was in town and the he bought me a ticket (about $0.50) for the game which started at 9:45pm. I asked him if it was safe to go out at that time. He assured me that it was and we headed to town again.
We entered Olimpic Stadium by passing through three lines of police officers who each patted us down. I thought this was maybe a bit much, but Ukraine does not pride itself in its efficiency. Anyway, we took some pictures and became situated before the crowd stood up suddenly and started chanting "Ya-nu-ko-vich, Ya-nu-ko-vich,..." I turned around and there was the presidental candidate of choice for the Donetsk region, waving to the crowd from a balcony no more than 50 feet from where we were sitting. This occurred several times throughout the game. The game was an exciting one, Donetsk scored first and I pulled out my camera (like any good tourist would)to catch the moment. The large, intoxicated man who was sitting next to me and had been talking to me throughout the opening minutes (none of which I understood), thought it was time for a big hug. It was a bit unexpected and happened to knock the camera from my hand. I am happy to say that it still takes photos, we just have to be happy with the permanent 3x zoom. Donetsk won 2-0 and the stadium was somewhat chaotic. It seemed to be the only thing people talked about all the way home.
Even though the evening was eventful and exciting most of the time, I was ready to get home to a place where I felt a bit more secure. It was a memorable evening and, now that it is in the past, I am sure that I will be talking about it for many years to come.
Dave
