Chapter 22 – Ukrainian Woodstock

Keeping up on my promise there is one last story of Kharkov before I went to the Black Sea and beyond that should be told and that is the story of my first ever music festival!

Picture it: Late July in the western Ukrainian plains. A large stage back dropped by a lake and the forest behind. Before the stage a large hill that soon would be filled to the brim with enthusiasts, novices (like myself) and music lovers in general, all gathering at this place in one moment to share in the beauty of nature and experience the energy and power that is music. I was invited to this annual festival by Sergei Ivanovich, a true lover of music. He left early in the morning in order to not miss a drop of fun. I had to work in the morning teaching two conversation groups. After I finished imparting my bit of knowledge into my eager students, I went home to change and get myself ready for good times!

The moment I stepped in the door of my flat the rain came and came hard. I was grounded for a while as I had neither heavy coat nor umbrella. Thus I missed out on much of the event including the portion when the Prime Minister herself made an appearance at the celebrated event. Finally the ran had let up enough that I was able to run from my flat to the metro station without looking too much like a drowned rat upon arrival. There was a bus station in the far Southeast part of Kharkov (I lived in the more western part) so it took about a half hour or so just to reach the bus station with the special buses that would take awaiting fans to Pechenivsky Pole (the venue). At long last I had arrived and managed to find what I thought to be the correct bus.

It took me and 5 others outside Kharkov, farther and farther a field than I had been before (especially alone). One by one the other passengers left the bus in random places sometimes near towns, at others times in the middle of nowhere. I was beginning to think that I had gotten on the wrong bus and I was headed to Russia or Poland. Eventually there were 4 fairlyinebriatedd blokes who got on board at one of these random stops and they, in their drunken drawls, were talking about the music festival I was trying to reach. I was calmed a little but now distraught at the sketchiness.

After about one hour we arrived. There was nothing resembling a stage where the bus dropped us off but there were miles and miles of cars and masses of people moving in the same general direction. I decided it would be best to follow them. After a nice little hike I climbed over a small hill and saw it - my very first music festival! It was a combination of regular festival, with stalls of food and other non-essential items but at the far end of the field next to a large steep hill there was the stagerepletet with gigantic screens on either side. It was great!

I managed to find Sergei Ivanovich who kindly bought me some food and then we went and staked out some places close to the top of the hill. We listened to Moldavan and Romanian guest bands and then watched some cute acts ofgymnasticss by Ukrainian girls and then we got into the really good stuff. Traditional and modern Ukrainian fare. My new favorite band - VV (can't remember what it stands for) but the lead singer was awesome, energetic, fun, enthusiastic, and most impressive of all was that he played about 5 different instruments includingaccordionn and ta da - Violin!!

After that the fireworks started. They had them over the lake, there was a bit of delay as they had to clear the road bridge before they could let off the fireworks but they finally made it and it was cool. I had my 4th of July after all - a few weeks late. Then they had a few more good but not overly remarkable acts and that's when the rains returned this time harder than before. Luckily Sergei Ivanovich was prepared and had an extra umbrella for me. We started to make our way back to the buses and waited for one that would take us to Kharkov, the only hitch was, none were going there! So we eventually pushed and shoved our way onto a bus going to Cheguyev... close but not quite. From there Sergei negotiated a taxi for us and we rode the extra half hour in a bouncy Lada.

By the time we got back it was three in the morning and the metro was closed. Taking a taxi back to my place from the very south side (where we were dropped off) would have cost an arm and a leg so Sergei kindly invited me to crash at his place. I watched a bit of cable on his tv, played with hispsychoticallyy energetic cat and then passed out asleep. In the morning around 10, he made us breakfast of pelmeni (like ravioli) and sandwiches. Then he walked me to the metro station and off I was back home. All in all it was a great time and a good first experience at a music festival. I hope to go to more and since Darren is beyond obsessed with music (as evidenced by his 400+ cds, which I organized and alphabetized!!) I'm sure we'll be going to many a concert and festival.