Queuing Ukrainian style
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Odessa,
Ukraine
Monday, August 13, 2007
First real day in Ukraine, and I've already been subjected to a good taste of the local lifestyle. Not the enjoyable kind, mind you, but rather the kind of tedious bull shit that Ukrainian citizens have to put up with on a daily basis. Yes, I am talking about purchasing train tickets and dealing with that everlasting hangover from the Soviet era - poor, cranky service and eternal queues.
I originally booked in for just one night here in Odessa, thinking I'd have to do it in a whirlwind tour and get out of town. With my pending Belarusian visa process though, I figured out that I could afford one more evening before running on to Kiev. There were a couple other factors influencing me though. First off, I was wanting to try and fit in a daytrip to Bilhorod-Dnistrovsky, so I could see the historic castle formerly known as Cetatea Alba (see the Soroca entry). But secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I'd heard through the grapevine that overnight train tickets to Kiev weren't especially easy to come by last-minute during this season. Better to have a little more leeway rather than get caught out.
This morning I had a much more leisurely rise than usual, and didn't actually get out of the hostel I'm staying in (which is super nice, might I add) until just before noon. Prioritizing things though, I made sure to head straight for the station. It's a damn good thing I did too, as I was in for quite a surprise when I arrived. The ticketing hall has about 10 counters across it, the majority of which had only a few people lined up behind them. Counter number one, however, had a line stretching more than halfway across the hall. Somehow I just knew that this was the line I was supposed to be in. Sure enough, when I asked the Russian guy at the end of the line, he immediately confirmed that it was the one queue for the advance tickets counter. One queue and one window. Out of ten. Oh joy.
One positive thing was that the guy I asked turned out to know a decent amount of English. That meant I at least had someone to talk to and stay relatively entertained with (or at least suffer alongside) during the stupidly long wait. And it was most definitely a stupidly long wait. People in Ukraine don't queue in neat, orderly lines. Instead they form some semblance of a line, usually two or three people wide, but sometimes thickening to masses of six or seven people all bunched together. That meant that it took about an hour and forty-five minutes for us to get about halfway up the "queue." At that point, the woman at the window promptly closed up shop to take a 45-minute lunch break.
Gad.
While waiting for the woman to return from her break and help the gazillion people still waiting, I met a young Chinese student from Tianjin that was studying at a local conservatory. He too spoke fairly good English and seemed rather surprised that I actually knew where his hometown was. Having had many students in Japan that went there for business helped, I guess. Oddly enough, he was just as unmoved overall by the length of time spent there than the Russian guy I was standing with. I guess China and Ukraine have the "head-splittingly frustrating train station" thing in common.
The ticket window opened back up at about 3:00 and then the line began to edge forward at a pace most slugs would have little difficulty keeping up with. Some absolutely blasted rural then decided he was going to push his way up to the front of the line, simply because he didn't feel like he should have to wait like all the others. This went over about as well as expected, with every other woman in the queue barking at him to go to the end of the queue (to no effect). Finally, after about twenty minutes, he walked off, only to be replaced by his marginally more sober buddy (or brother? who knows?). Finally, Denis, the Russian guy I had been talking to, piped up on this guy, managing to at last convince him that if he didn't move his ass back, there might be some physical pain coming. That worked, and things immediately returned to normal.
At about 4:05, Denis and I both got within one person of the ticket window, only to have it shut again for a 10-minute "technical break." Yay . . . another pointless waste of time. It wasn't until almost 4:30 that I finally was able to purchase my own ticket. Unfortunately, just about every train out for the next evening was packed already - only one kupe (2nd class) sleeper ticket was available that she could find, and it oddly got snatched up just as I said I'd take it. The only options then were platskartny - 3rd class couchettes in an open compartment (i.e. no locked doors and no privacy) - or luxe. I didn't think I'd start my Ukrainian rail experience traveling with a bunch of livestock, pensioners and drunk rural folk on a hard bed, so I didn't have much choice but to go for the latter. 335 Ukrainian hryvnia straight up - in other words, about US$67. Not the tremendous deal I was hoping for, but at least I have a ticket now.
So with that done, we proceeded out of the station . . . and into the pouring rain. Wonderful. Happily it didn't last too long, but I still had to duck under a cafe umbrella for a while and wait it out since I neglected to get my own umbrella from my bag this morning. I picked up a quick kebab "lunch" while I was at it, even though by the time I actually got to eat, it was 5pm! I washed it down with an ultra-cheap ($0.40!) cup of kvas, a favorite drink of the former Soviet Union that basically tastes like a sweet beer without the hops. Pretty tasty stuff, really - I can see why it's popular on a hot summer's day.
My plan for sightseeing today was understandably shot by the extended visit at the vokzal, so I can't honestly say I've seen much of Odessa. I have walked around a little here and there though, and it is really quite a beautiful place. Most certainly it's a huge improvement on ho-hum Chisinau. The one thing that's somewhat disconcerting is all the ostentatious displays of wealth, much of it most likely coming from dubious business dealings. But the center is slowly regaining the glory it once had and there's certainly a lot more history here than in any city I've seen recently. I unfortunately am going to have to scrap my plans to go to Bilhorod-Dnistrovsky as my train is at 6:30 in the evening tomorrow, but at least I'll have another opportunity to take in some of Odessa. Now I just have to hope that the weather cooperates . . . I've already had enough rain, thank you very much!
