:)

And happy Roman Day (dec. 1)!

A few days ago I returned from a conference in Novovolynsk about local municipalities branding themselves to better attract entrepreneurs and tourists run by the Institute for Society Transformation.

Before the conference, we visited two monasteries. First the Zymnyi (Winter ?) Women’s Monastery. More info here, here and here.

Then the Nuzkynychi (Lower ??? or maybe Unfinished ???) Monastery. More info here or here.

In both places I had the feeling that I could spend months there without running out of things to say. Both places claimed miracles. Both were filled with stories of Soviet oppression, and passive resistance — statues glued together went with stories of government led vandalism, stories of scattered bones from the catacombs, of church services interrupted by hails of stones, of planting trees in place of crosses because the latter were frowned upon, of collecting embroideries which had also been frowned upon as a distinctly Ukrainian custom.

The country side was beautiful with gentle hills just tall enough to offer great views.

We stayed in one of Novovolynsks’s two hotel. I was interested to hear that most of their business comes from the small basement bar and its four billiards tables. Three of them were Russian Billiards tables — I found the pockets impossibly small.

There were attendees from Lutsk, Ternopil, Poland, L’viv and many of the smaller towns surrounding Novovolynsk.

I spoke about websites from my experience as a web developer, then briefly about the distinction between public and private money, citing Mises’ Bureaucracy. Here’s my powerpoint presentation: TownBranding_Skaskiw.ppt.

This was my second time giving it, and my second ever bit of public speaking in Ukrainian. It went much more smoothly this time.

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The people from the Institute and I took the bus back to L’viv, along with a pair of sociologists who attended the conference. They had a few hours before their evening train back to Kyiv, so I invited everyone over to my place.

Amazingly, I had just the right amounts of food — cookies, a large quantities of pistachios. Ihor from the institute brought out Salo and bread. They suggested one of the sociologists go out for a bottle of vodka, but before he put his second arm into his jacket I found the big bottle of Jack Daniels I had brought from the U.S. Very appropriate, I thought, for an American host.

Then coffee and tea. A good time, it seemed, was had by all. I felt happy to have shared my home and food and all the laughs. I made a secret recording of our festivities, available here.

Also, the sociologists say they will help me with my *top secret* archival research project which one or two of you may be privy too. On’tday elltay anybodyway!

I attended this wonderful conference with the Lithuanian Free Market Institute.

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On the way back, I flew from Vilnius to Kyiv, then Kyiv to Lviv. We circled around Lviv b/c of fog, then returned to Kyiv. I spent the day there and completed the return next evening. I had the chance to visit my old apartment in Kyiv. To my horror, I could not find the 500GB flash drive I thought I had left there.

(I’ve labeled this “Mostly Tourism” simply b/c this post doesn’t get into the content of the lectures much.)

EDIT:

I’ve added this photo of Prof. Guido Hulsmann.

There were also some great lectures by Professor Josef Sima. He showed a great sense of humor.

Despite what I suspect was a mild case of food poisoning, I attended all the conference events except for the evening bar crawls.

I’d known about Kyiv’s Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) club since finding their website before my departure, but I didn’t know how to contact them until searches for “BJJ Ukraine” led me to this website, where one of their members listed her email address.

Back in September, on the Sunday prior to my first class with Gracie Barra Kiev, the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu club in Kiev, I did a reconnaissance. It involved my first solo Metro ride and a very long walk. Here’s what it looked like passing beneath Peremogy Ave.

(I’ve since learned to take the Marshutka, the little private buses from the subway station toward the gym — about fifteen cents a ride.)

The second-to-last road I walked down dwindled among fields and a semi-industrial area. I had expected to make the second right from it, but the road completely disintegrated and the way was blocked by bushes – various urban undergrowth. I decided to walk down the first right.

On one side, a rusted chain linked fence separated me from a field which contained the foundation of some long-ago ruined structure. On the other side was also a field in which four or five stray dogs rested. They seemed oblivious to me and the world. Beyond that field, stood a modern-looking apartment building, with some signs of life, and I proceeded, feeling reassured that I wasn’t quite leaving civilization behind.

The road ended in a parking lot before a Goliath structure which I couldn’t quite classify. It’s indifference to beauty made me think of a factory. The broad expanse of steps at its front were reminiscent of a university building, and the vast size made me think of a warehouse.

From the bottom of the stairs, I was heartened to see crudely painted pictures of wrestlers and martial artists painted on the large plastic windows beside the front door at the top of the steps.

An old woman, opened the front to let someone out, and walked up the steps smiling at her.

“Hello,” I said in Ukrainian.

She spoke to me in Russian, then switched to Ukrainian. I tried to ask her if her if they taught Brazilian Jiu Jistsu here, and she made the point that they were closed today, which wasn’t exactly my question.

I felt confident enough that I had found the right place, and began saying goodbye. She asked me where I was from, and seemed amazed that I was from the United States.

She asked me how long I’d been in Ukraine, and I misunderstood and told her I would be for about a year.

And already you’ve learned to speak Ukrainian so well? She said.

No, I told her. I just arrived a week ago. I learned Ukrainian in the United States.

I swear, she blinked backed tears.

I explained that my parents were born in Ukraine, but left as children, and that I attended a Ukrainian school on Saturdays when I was young. I told her I studied Russian as well for two years, but don’t remember it well. I say this a lot in an attempt to demonstrate my neutrality on the divisive issue of language. My views are simple and libertarian: don’t force anyone to learn (or not learn) a language & don’t let anyone force you.

When I told her I didn’t remember Russian, she smiled, showing me all her gold teeth. She was positively beaming. That’s when I became her best friend.

She gently gripped my arm and invited me inside the enormous foyer. She pointed to one end. Through the windows of the doors, I could see a corridor. The lady explained how I can go to a room and said something about people practicing there with swords. That didn’t quite sound like Brazilian Jiu Jitsu to me. I politely declined. Throughout our lengthy goodbye, she kept smiling, showing me her gold teeth.

I returned Tuesday for Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. I’d been in touch with one of their students, Anna, whom I had contact over the internet. She met me at the Metro station (on my reconnaissance, I had gone to the wrong one, making my walk even longer). Anna showed me how to use the Marshutka.

They asked me to lead class on the first day, which caught me off guard, but I was happy to oblige. I have a lot of technical knowledge to share, though I’ve generally gotten beat up during sparring. They are mostly bigger than me, and don’t mind relying on strength. Perhaps no one wants to lose to the new American. Regardless, it’s been great fun.

I often felt reluctant to go — tired, lazy, busy — but forced myself, and returning feeling like a brand new man. Everyone was very gracious to me, and seemed happy to have me.

For some reason, the coach wears a white belt. He’s very skilled in BJJ, wrestling and other martial arts. He’s also very athletic and speaks flawless Russian, Ukrainian, English and other languages too, I think.

Here’s us, and one of his ninjas:

In October, there was a tournament run by another organization, Pankration, which does both grappling and striking. They invited the Gracie Barra club to participate in the grappling portion of their tournament.

Here’s the poster:

Here’s the tournament facility:

Strangely, a game of American football was taking place in the field outside, complete with helmets and shoulder pads.

I went to cheer on the 5 or 6 BJJ guys who were competing. I’m unsure of the number b/c I didn’t recognize the few of them who were from Gracie Barra Kyiv’s satellite school.

Anyway, the BJJ guys were absolutely dominant. Triangle chokes, all day long.

My friend Ilya won 8 of his 9 matches. The one he lost were b/c of Pankration’s ridiculous scoring rules, about which we were complete ignorant. Apparently, no points are given for guard passes or knee-on-belly.

Here are two of Ilya’s bouts:

Pay no attention to the color of the belts. There were guys from many disciplines there. I also saw the referee put a blue belt on a white belt to distinguish the competitors for scoring purposes.

To compete, people needed 100 UAH ($12), plus 50 UAH for each section — gi / no gi. They also needed proof of medical insurance and their passports for identification.

The day after the fights, a few of the guys finally took me out for the beer they’d been promising me since I ordered some athletic equipment to my mother’s address in the U.S. and asked her to send it to me.

I learned that Gracie Barra BJJ cannot run tournaments in Ukraine b/c they’re not registered with the government as a grappling association. Pankration registered as such, and the bureaucrats saw no reason for a second organization. Another person drinking with us said this may have simply been a move to get a bribe, and that the rejection probably wouldn’t withstand organized pressure. Such is life in Ukraine.

Not being registered increases liability risks, denies the possibility of government funds, which apparently approved organizations might get, and, denies an organization the right to hold sanctioned tournaments.

On my last day, the guys gave me this nifty rash guard:

Also, by then the underpass beneath Peremogy Ave was re-painted:

Anyway, I’m in L’viv now, and it’s unlikely I’ll be doing any more BJJ during my time in Ukraine. I know the guys back at Hawkeye BJJ are breathing a sign of relief, as I’ll be coming back out of practice. ;)

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EDIT: This recollection of my BJJ experience in Ukraine would be incomplete without this photo:

I didn’t have a washing machine in my Kyiv apartment, so I washed my laundry in the tub, including my gi two evenings a week after practice.

Looking down from the green way behind my building on Velyka Zhytomerska Street, I can see the bright colors of the recently built Vozdvizhenka neighborhood. Here’s a picture:

With less than a week left in Kyiv, I just discovered that I can walk through this district instead of down the steep, cobbled Andriyivs’ky Uzviz, when going to Podil, either to visit an event at Kyiv Mohyla, or eat at Puzata Khata, or just hang out in the cool, trendy neighborhood.

Incidentally, the area is widely rumored to be vacant, and it certainly seems that way with many for rent signs. One story I heard, was that it was a cemetery — not immediately before this latest development project, but long ago. And Ukrainians, who seem to me rather superstitious, are avoiding the place. I’ve found no verification of this in the internet. There’s some information about the area here, here and here.

So, anyway, my first time through there, I was like, “this place has a lot of manholes.”

And then I was like, “wow, it’s just manhole after manhole.”

And finally, I was like, “holy crap. I’ve never seen so many manholes.”

This has got to be the highest manhole-per capita area in the world. Check it out:

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If anybody has an explanation, theory, or observation, I’d love to hear it.