Sitting alone on a park bench outside the usual internet café in Shevchenko Park drinking a beer, eating a hot sandwich and enjoying the dusk, I contemplate life in Ukraine, England and in general. Old ladies and men hover around the young and cheerful loiterers, such as myself, in expectation of something. Perhaps money, perhaps a chance to dole out wisdom gathered through a tough life of stable Soviet times and the transition to an unstable ‘democracy’ to this new generation of materialists.
I finish the now cold ham and cheese sandwich and down the last drop of Obolon Sobornaya. Suddenly I see an old woman rushing towards me, and I understand what it is she wants, after months of observation of this unique and intriguing culture. The beer bottle. She wants neither money, nor pity, nor to give advice. She simply wants the nice green glass that could mean an added few copecks to her measly pension. As I hand over the bottle she says in a weak and hoarse voice, “Дай Бог Здорова!” “God give you health!”. I smile and head into the cafй to check what’s new in the cyber world of electronic mail, pondering whether it is ironic or not that she asked God to give me health after I effectively killed dozens of brain cells and put my liver to hard work with the 5.4% brew. Ironic I decide, but interesting.
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