Some time in November, I received an email from Caroline: she would be in Chicago in January and would I want to meet her? I gave her a tentative yes, as January is generally a good time to take a weekend off to do nothing; classes have kicked in, but one’s not plagued by papers, writing, and figuring out the end of a semester. The weekend before her proposed dates, I was driving around Ann Arbor getting stuff for my (Old) New Year’s party, when suddenly I remembered I had tentatively promised to be in Chicago the next weekend. And thinking through my schedule, I decided it was going to happen. As soon as I got out of class on Friday, I was off on I-94, crossing Michigan in a persistent but pleasant snow, off to meet a friend in Evanston for dinner ahead of meeting up with Caroline and her mother for a play that her cousin was starring in. Things got progressively worse, however, as I neared the Michigan-Indiana border. I had averaged just over 70 across most of Michigan, but soon I had slowed down to 50… then 40… and then 35. As I inched my way past Illinois border, I called my brother in Hyde Park (on the South Side, basically the first place you hit when you drive in from Michigan), with whom I was planning to stay that night after this play in Evanston (north, involving crossing the city). Yeah, Evanston was not going to happen and I would be at his place in time for a late dinner. He gave me directions, which I scribbled down (I was so lucky this was precisely the moment where traffic had slowed to a stand still). And 45 minutes later, after some successful guesswork in Hyde Park, I turned up at his door. His fiancée, Lila, had wisely decided against driving down from Madison that night, so I was given a rare treat: an evening with my brother. Which I had experienced last in September, but before that was probably 2009, when he visited me in Nuremberg. Here’s a fact. My brother is pretty much awesome. I hope Lila knows she’s getting pretty much the best travel buddy and pretty much one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. And also, a budding chef. I was treated to pumpkin sage gnocchi that he was going to make for her. They were pretty much AMAZING.

These were ever so pleasantly washed down with Great Lakes Christmas Ale (fact: pretty much the greatest Christmas ale out there. One point for Cleveland. Which pretty much otherwise has zero, so let’s give credit where credit is due!). AND THEN, my brother indulged me in something I really wanted to do. Und zwar: a walk through the snow in Hyde Park. While Ann Arbor had gotten a measly 2-4 inches that evening, Chicago had gotten 6-8 (had I realized, I might have decided against driving that night, but all’s well that ends well!). It was really a glorious evening. And with that nice heavy beer (7.5%), it didn’t even seem remotely cold (truth: I kind of wished I had brought my still-unused cross country skis–it’s been such a lame winter).

Again, cue some requisite bragging. Did I mention my brother is awesome? And walking with him through the snow in Hyde Park, I was full of pleasant flashbacks from our childhood growing up (approximately) here. Namely, this picture.

Circa 1990, in front of our house in Oak Park. I have pretty much the greatest snow outfit EVER, I know. Daniel's at least sort-of matched.

Siblings are seriously the best. It’s so nice to think about how much we have in common, as we recalled past memories and present happenings. We stopped by a liquor store to replenish Daniel’s dwindling beer supply and returned to his apartment to enjoy a couple beers with his amazing maple-and-olive-oil cake and watch some mindless television (Portlandia was our show of choice). I think we talked until past two in the morning. It was pretty much wonderful. And then, I curled up on his quite horrible couch, waking up bright and early the next morning to tackle the day. The winter wonderland had not receded in the least.

Hyde Park the next morning (January 21).

We caught a bus downtown and turned up at Caroline’s hotel to pick her up en route to brunch, where we’d meet up with Lila. We were a little late, but what a view greeted us when we finally made it to her room! And thus, we were reunited for the first time since my graduation (and with her mother, too, whom I hadn’t seen in even longer–making me miss the pleasant Sunday mornings I spent in their kitchen, drinking their coffee while doing my copious amounts of reading in Soviet history and waiting for Caroline to wake up, always a couple hours after me).

I love Chicago. Seriously. And every time I am there, I am reminded of how much, in fact, I am really from the place. I may have left when I was 10, but my childhood is still oh-so-Chicago colored.

Cue flashback. Because this was not the first time I’d met up with long-lost college friends in this city, and I thought back on the pleasant weekend spent in Chicago last September, when I met up with Marina, Alana, and Alisa in the city, before continuing south to Champaign for Kate’s reception. The evening I arrived, I enjoyed a fantastic dinner (with the greatest cocktails I’ve had to date) with Daniel and Lila. The next morning, I took a little solo trip on to the Art Institute (Daniel and Lila were headed off to visit Lila’s mother that weekend, so they weren’t sticking around).

It was the time of their amazing exhibit on Soviet war propaganda. It was pretty much the greatest exhibit I’d ever seen (and, I might add, since my Soviet love is already well-documented, it was objectively a fantastic exhibit–even for the non-specialist; I liked it so well, I bought the pretty exhibit book).

After taking in the museum alone, I headed out to meet Alisa for lunch at Russian Tea Time, an upscale (well, in my world) Russian restaurant across the street. I have fond memories of the place, having been there with my great-grandmother as a child, when she visited us from Germany. Then, I ate deruny (potato latkes) with plenty of sour cream (I saved the apple sauce and ate it separately). This time, I was caught by the asparagus varenyky. CAN YOU SAY NO TO THAT?!

Ahh, and with a touch of "Tashkent" carrot salad--funny, though, that they call it that, as everywhere else, it's called Korean carrots. Whatever... Delicious!

Chicago is such a lovely city.

Across the street from the Art Institute.

And from the city, Alisa and I headed back to Hyde Park, where we met Marina and Alana before continuing on down to Champaign, where we met up with Yuliya and celebrated Kate’s wedding (and also got her the greatest wedding present ever).

Marina, Alana, Ryan (Yuliya's boyfriend), and Yuliya. Finally met Ryan, who's been in the picture so long that it's almost embarrassing to have only met in September!

So nice to be together again!

Marina, Alisa, me, Alana. Ruthlessly stolen from Emily Bruce, whom I finally had the delight to meet!

Also, cue some awesome hilarity when Neil chose to draw a portrait of his darling wife. It was pretty horrifying.

Neil is many things, but a budding artist is not one of them.

Anyway, back to the present (well, still the past, but less than a month ago, which is practically the present in historian terms). So yes, having found Caroline (and having left my big bag in the hotel room, as I would be staying there with Caroline and her mother that evening), we set out for brunch, eating at a place aptly called “Brunch” (rendering it a bit hard to find on google), where Lila met us. Daniel had the most gorgeous red velvet pancakes. I think Lydia would have approved.

My vegetable skillet was more to my taste, if perhaps less visually stunning.

From there, Daniel and Lila set off for their activities, which included pre-marital counseling and ring shopping. Caroline and I, meanwhile, set off to wander Wicker Park. I found this gem of a purse. Maybe I should have gotten it…

Seriously, who wouldn't love this?! At $34, a steal!

We ultimately headed back downtown, shopping a bit more before her mother joined us for an amazing dinner at Ralph Lauren Restaurant. The decor was so Old Boys Club. It was kind of amazing.

And from there, we headed off, meeting up with Daniel and Lila at the John Hancock Building, about my favorite place to take visitors to Chicago. The cocktails at the restaurant up there are a bit subpar, but given that going to the observatory costs something like $15, the money is so much better spent on cocktails for the free view from the lounge. And the view IS spectacular. It was my third time there, having taken both Neil and Tom there during the take-British-tourists-on-driving-trips-through-the-Midwest phase of my life (2009-2010).

We were blessed with a wonderfully clear evening. Navy Pier:

It was such a pleasant evening, as the five of us chatted about architecture and history and Chicago and all sorts of other things. Caroline’s mother was ever so generous as to treat us, which was ever so appreciated. It would be hard to imagine a better way to spend an evening. We headed back to the hotel, seeing Daniel and Lila off to their car.

I was baptized here at Fourth Presbyterian Church on Michigan Avenue, which was also where my parents met.

Sunday morning started with a fantastic breakfast at the hotel, before we did a little shopping (mostly just looking at furniture for the Corbitts’ gorgeous Sonoma home. So looking forward to seeing it again, perhaps next fall!). Anyway, my time soon grew short, and I wished both Caroline and her mother adieu and caught a bus back to Hyde Park (where I had ditched my car) and met up with Daniel and Lila for about the best cappuccino I’ve ever had and another pleasant hour or so of conversation before taking my leave and driving back to Ann Arbor, happy the weather was much, much more pleasant for my return. It had pretty much been the perfect weekend. I know I’ve been pretty effusive in this post, but it’s hard to help the fact that I pretty much have amazing friends and family (and future family). Seriously. It was a perfect weekend to remind me of just how wonderful my life really is.

Incidentally, this picture was from a month or so ago. The new suckers have almost 100 miles on them already. When I started them out, this is what my miles had looked like:

First of all, I didn’t actually miss two whole weeks in January, but the first day of the month counted as it’s own week. Also, the “three” weeks with zero miles: all in Ukraine. Definitely total correlation.

Basically, last January, I wanted an excuse for a Russian/Slavic themed party. I had wanted to screen the classic Soviet New Year’s movie, The Irony of Fate, but this got quickly vetoed upon the arrival of guests, as goodness knows most people don’t enjoy sitting around a small TV in order to watch a three hour subtitled movie. But anyway, since the movie is a classic feature of the Russian New Year’s celebrations, I thought it would be best done as a welcome back. And as luck would have it, Old New Year’s (the Julian/Orthodox calendar was clearly a big theme this year) just so happened to fall on a Saturday. And with that, we were set. Old New Year’s it was.

Fact: in an alternate universe, I'd have made a great Russian/Slavic housewife.

Now, when I do dinner parties, I tend to go all out, and this was certainly going to be no exception. So I got to work on Friday evening, dedicating a few hours to making potato varenyky. Delicious. I ran out of potatoes and treated myself to a couple sweet raspberry ones as a reward for filling my freezer with varenyky. The rest was left for Saturday. By the time my guests arrived, the table was full of salads and it was time to serve the borscht. I know this may come off as bragging a little, but I think it’s fair to call this a total success. This was most of the way through the dinner, so you don’t really see the table in its full glory, but I was pretty satisfied by the spread. Down to the kompot!

Not to mention a full range of these options:

Jacqueline brought out the sparklers–so what if the (old) old year had ended the night before? It was as good an excuse as any to use them!

And as happens at all good parties, at least in the former Soviet Union, by the end of the night, the table was a mess of glasses–hey, when all your guests have water and compot and vodka and beer and tea, you go through a lot.

Success indeed! And amazingly enough, more or less perfectly cleaned up by 2 am. Cheers to the (new) new year! С новым годом, товариши!

View onto Lviv from St. George's Church after Christmas Mass. Blue skies!

Our lovely Christmas Eve was followed on Saturday (January 7) by a lovely, very filling Christmas breakfast, after which we were driven to town for Christmas mass at St. George’s (Jura’s) Cathedral.

St. George's Cathedral on Christmas morning.

And from there, we headed back to wander in the city, with no particular goals in mind. The very best kind of wandering. There was probably some coffee. I bought a copy of Harry Potter in Ukrainian. And we headed into a café that had made fantastic impression on me way back when. Café Fresca did not disappoint. Check out this spiced hot chocolate!

With cinnamon and chili.

Maki went a little more off the beaten path with a bit of a snack:

Salo (pork fat) with chocolate and decor. Certainly pretty. And allegedly delicious.

And some more wandering. Lviv is really a lovely, lovely city.

Full of all sorts of cafés. Now, I’ve long been familiar with the faux-Arabic Cyrillic, but I was kind of extremely amused by a café sporting faux Hebrew on one side street. Complete with a New Year’s tree in the window, taking me back to the exhibit in the Jewish Museum in Berlin, where (at least when I was there) they have a Christmas tree on display to talk about Jewish assimilation in the 19th century. But anyway, this is a New Year’s tree anyway.

Maki spied a small amusement:

Kharkivites in Exile! He was ready for it!

And more street scenes.

It was also quite evidently Christmas, as groups gathered to sing carols and celebrate the holiday.

Twilight set in.

And we headed to the square in front of the opera house, where there was a lively market and a Christmas concert.

And even some street performers (after, of course, we had ducked in for more coffee).

After which Maki got in touch with Ihor, a friend of his, who took us back to his apartment for another Christmas meal and excellent conversation, about language, history, and politics, and all sorts of other topics. It was the height of both my Ukrainian understanding and my ability to speak Russian coherently. Always nice to remember that I can, sort of do this (pretty sure that in the month and a half that has since elapsed, my Russian his gotten particularly hilarious (and Ukrainian-inflected)). It was a lovely, pleasant evening, after a lovely, pleasant day. A nice end to a lovely, pleasant trip. The next morning, we had a final breakfast and headed to the airport, making a quick stop to pay our respects to the enormous Stepan Bandera monument (hey, doing more of that a week from Monday). And with that, I checked in my bag, and caught my flight. Back to Detroit, back to reality. This time, with a dozen or so books and a pair of size 14 shoes, (not so small) small reminders of what I left behind.

(But in happier news: leaving again in eight days!)

The table, laden with food.

Naturally, one of the highlights of going to Ukraine for almost two weeks immediately after Christmas is the fact that you then get Christmas not once, but twice. And this year, I had a very proper Ukrainian Christmas. The main meal, served on Christmas Eve, comes complete officially with 12 dishes, although how you count them changes from region to region (and from house to house). As far as I could tell, there were basically four things: the borscht/mushroom dumplings, fish times 100 (ok… at least five kinds of fish were on that table), varenyky of many kinds (potato, cabbage, cherry), and kutia, a wheatberry/poppy seed/honey concoction. To that, uzvar to drink, bread to eat, and so much more. All dishes are essentially vegan+fish, which is a little disappointing when you eat those homemade cherry varenyky, sans the sour cream.

Carp, of the cold variety; kutia; borscht with mushroom dumplings (amazing!).

I did my best to follow along, but as the first dinner started with a series of prayers and ended with a series of Christmas carols with no printed versions, I pretty much got to play the role of observer. But hey, at least I looked the part.

Uncle Josef, Maki’s great aunt’s widower, was quite the flirt.

Vasyl, Josef. SEE ALL THT FOOD?!

After we had been thoroughly stuffed and filled, it was time, naturally, for round II, as we headed over to Maki’s cousin’s (Sofika’s) in-laws, who conveniently live a 10 minute drive from her own parents. Already thoroughly filled to the brim, I eyed the table suspiciously.

Yep. More food.

Yep, pretty much just eating. And more eating. And then, not surprisingly, more songs. This time, a couple song books were located, which made things considerably easier for me.

Sofika’s father brought out the accordion, and little Nazarchik joined in on a harmonica (true story: in Russian, the word is the same for the two instruments, which caused me a little confusion at one point in my life).

More singing:

Needless to say, there was little about the traditions themselves that remotely mirrored my own Christmas eve. Though, clearly an appreciation for family (and so much food), which are a bit more familiar. Yes, a lovely, highly filling, but altogether wonderful evening.

With the tree.

Oh hi, Ivan Franko!

And here’s the bigger collection. Still only a small number of the total pictures I took.

Oh hi there, Taras!

After a pleasant but uneventful stay in Kyiv, it was time to move on. And so, with a full day train ahead of us (10 hours, 11am-9pm), we stopped in to the grocery store to pick up the necessities. Reading a page out of my past life as a student/post-Soviet train traveler, I of course had to insist on a couple of basics. Namely, fake mashed potatoes and noodles. Both of which can be handily prepared with the on-hand boiling water, conveniently available near the conductor’s compartment. To which, we added bread, smoked cheese, and other assorted goodies. True story: it made me super nostalgic for living in Russia.

Mmm, nothing like fake mashed potatoes!

With copious amounts of sleeping (I believe I slept something like 7 of the 10 hours on the train (during the day, I repeat!), some trashy romance novel reading, and watching the Wire, we soon found ourselves arriving in Lviv, where we were met by Maki’s great uncle. Hello, Lviv!

Lviv's train station by night.

Vasyl took us immediately back to Briukovychi, the quiet suburb of Lviv where he lives with his wife, Orysia, and where we were going to be staying for our five-night stint in the city. The next morning, after a very filling breakfast, Vasyl took is into town, gave us a few directions, and set us off to fend for ourselves.

And so we did, wandering the streets of the city, and I was pretty much immediately struck by how much the city had changed in the nearly four years that had elapsed since my most recent time in the city, back in February 2008. The buildings, obviously, are the same, but it was so much cleaner, so much more organized, so much more ready for tourists, and had so many more options for eating and drinking and sleeping. We stopped into the tourist agency, located in the city hall, where we were so professionally helped by the employee working there and walked away with a nice collection of pamphlets and maps. Pretty useful, as not everyone seems to be huge fans of the city’s major map initiative, rendering so many of the theoretically helpful information maps less than useful…

At least this map is still largely readable!

Seriously, graffiti aside, this city is a real gem.

Various views of Lviv.

Above all, I was particularly struck by just how Habsburg the city seems, particularly as in the four years that have elapsed since my last visit, I’ve seen quite a few more Habsburg cities. But of course, with its own distinct post-Soviet flair.

The inventor of the gas lamp was from Lviv! And here, you also see various city scenes and even a second hand book market. I bought myself "Kukhnia narodov SSSR"--"Cuisine of the peoples of the USSR," $3 well spent!

We caught a late lunch at Mons Pius, a local microbrewery at a place locally known for its beer and for its meat, on the suggestion of Kate, my college roommate who had lived in Lviv off and on between 2007 and 2009 and had been back last summer to observe it in its most recent transformation. I had a lovely fish.

As we walked out, though, the weather–hovering around freezing–had taken a turn for the worse, and after a limited bout of wandering (and probably some coffee; I don’t remember–we were always drinking coffee, though), we headed back to the suburbs, where we were wonderfully fed by Orysia. Full and in good spirits, we were ready for our next Lviv adventures to commence the following day, at this point, January 5 (sigh, how did I get so far behind!?).

View of Lviv from the Vysokyi Zamok.

Vasyl had that morning off, and was eager to take us to various places around Lviv, beginning with a site of political repression. Never hurts to remember Soviet crimes. I know that sounds sarcastic, but I mean it in all seriousness.

Before heading over to the Vysokyi Zamok to take in views of the city from above. The Castle/Fortress from which it takes is name is long gone, but the views are wonderful.

But alas, it was cold and windy, so we headed back down pretty quickly, before moving on to Lviv’s Lychakiv Cemetery, where we took in the most important sites (as well as the grave of a distant relative of theirs), under Vasyl’s guidance.

The cemetery was wonderfully picturesque–there will be a separate slideshow of pictures in my next post–as we admired the graves of various Ukrainian luminaries, also stopping to note just how many Polish (and even German) names were mixed in among the Ukrainian ones. A clear reminder of the city’s colorful history. As we exited the cemetery, Vasyl returned us to the center and headed off to work. We, meanwhile, binged on internet, warmth, coffee, and “village potatoes” at McDonald’s (seriously, why don’t we have those at American McDonald’s?!), before a bit more wandering. We eventually landed at our destination for the evening, the requisite trip to Kryivka, a partisan-themed restaurant. I had been once before, back in 2008, but Maki had not, and it was on our very short list of must-dos for the whole trip.

Locals, at least the ones we talked to, tend to be very negative about the restaurant, invariably criticizing it for sacrilege, kitsch, or expense and noting that only foreign (and especially Russian) tourists really went. Still, the place is an experience and kind of a must-do. You recite the requisite partisans’ greeting (“Slava Ukrainy! Heroiam slava!) and must verify there are no Moskali (derogatory term for Russians) within your party. And then, you take a shot of medovukha to be admitted into the bunker, which is completely decked out in partisan artifacts, weaponry, and other assorted hilarity.

We enjoyed our meal and took shots at Beria before heading off to meet a couple of Maki’s acquaintances for beer at Kumpel’, yet another local brewery, this one preserving a very Prague-ish air. We sat and chatted for quite some time, eventually moving to another café and wandering through the city by night. We passed by (but did not go to) the Masoch Café, named for the person from whose name “masochism” is derived, yet another of Lviv’s many luminaries. If you look closely  at his statue, you can see a portrait of a woman (scantily clad, I might add) in his heart.

Can I just ooze again about how lovely and pleasant Lviv is?! Seriously, a wonderful, beautiful city.

As I’m already at some 17 pictures and no shortage of narration, I will end my Lviv narration here for now, to be picked up (after a brief foray into the cemetery) with the wonderful Christmas Eve festivities. But it was a lovely reintroduction to a wonderful city. Perhaps a reflection of the European-ness of the city and having a bit more time to really settle in, the trip was finally starting to feel like a real vacation (to say nothing bad of our previous travels, mind you). Oh Lviv, I do love you!

Kyiv on New Year's Eve.

After our crazy jaunt through Kharkiv, it was back to Kyiv. As mentioned, we arrived in Kyiv’s second airport, without the slightest clue of where we were. So, we did the logical thing, and hopped a bus to some metro stop. And when we got off, we realized that we had managed to land right by the memorial for Babyn Yar. While not exactly what I had in mind for a return to Kyiv, we stopped to see the memorial.

Clockwise: "For the sake of the future"; the main memorial, then me with it; the monument for murdered children.

Having started on such an uplifting note, we took it easy for the day, finishing it off at a fantastic restaurant (and of course, stopping way too long at the bookstore). The next day was filled with all sorts of jobs and errands, as we scrambled for the finishing touches on New Year’s gifts, edible contributions to our party, and getting stuff moved from its place of storage to the Rybiys’ apartment.

Where we chatted with some old babushki about cooking. Definitely a way to my heart.

But alas, our task was completed, and it was time to ring in the New Year. No pictures of me turned up on my camera, but it was a pleasant night of nice company.

Oh Nazar, such a character! And so lovely to see them again!

With the New Year upon us, it was time to tune in. Oh hey there, Yanukovych.

And hey there, 2012. New Year’s Day was rather more of the same, as we wandered around, with a break or two for coffee and other assorted necessities. The Maidan was decked out to the max, with an enormous New Year’s tree to boot. And, after days of eerily empty cities (particularly on the 30th in Kyiv), it was nice to see people out and about.

I even bought some Ukrainian tinsel for my tree in Michigan, for example. Definitely a must.

Keeping warm. Coffee is good.

Maki was even treated, courtesy of my most wonderful mother (and most faithful blog-reader) to his first proper Christmas stocking. Filled with all sorts of hilarity (a hit–and much appreciated, Mom!).

Of course, Khrystynka was as adorable as always. I was glad to see her Disney Princess water coloring book was a success!

I kind of love this girl.

And more or less like that, our time in Kyiv was already wrapping up. With wonderful hosts, excellent company, and a successful entrance into the new year, it was a pleasant few days. But alas, on to the next adventure, and time for the highlight of the trip: a glorious return to Lviv, a city much changed in the four years since my last trip there. But enough for now, I’ll leave Lviv for the weekend, I hope. Doing my best to get my January adventures logged before my February adventures start–leaving for Germany three weeks from tomorrow! Insanity.

Am I in Ukraine? Or Ann Arbor? (Or Russia, I guess...) At any rate, delicious.