So, hello from Kharkov!
It was an interesting trip to get here: Eindhoven-Schiphol-Istanbul-Kharkov... I met some kind people while I had to wait in Istanbul airport for 4 hours, like a Dutch farmer who was going to Russia on an agrarian field trip. But I started getting slightly uneasy when I got in the airplane to my final destination. It was not even half full... And moreover, in the seats in front of me were 3 girls that smelt like alcohol and reminded me of Fiona, you know: Shrek's girlfriend. My first impression of where I was going...
I was not the last one getting off the plane, but for some reason or another I was the last one at passport control. It was as if the queues had been organically pushing me backwards all the time. I kept waiting and waiting. When it was finally my turn, 'they' in green uniforms without any expressions had some questions for me... What is the purpose of your stay? Are you staying in a hotel? Is your return ticket booked already? Why did you fly over Istanbul and not over Vienna, like all Belgians do...? And on top of that, it appeared that in Istanbul they forgot to stamp my passport. Anyway, nothing was really wrong in the end, and after I had spoken to the 'chief', a girl in a military uniform, with earrings that I might start to experience as nice after 1 month here (pink+blue), but that at that point rather betrayed her age to me (at least 5 years younger than me), I could pass and finally meet graphic designer Iliya, who had been drinking a lot of coffee to stay awake until 2.30. We got into the taxi that had been so nice to wait all the time.
I was reminded of the fact that a 'taxi' to me in general means either wild movies or white or black shining Mercedes vehicles that wait in an organized row in front of airports and stations. But of course, taxis can also be somewhat shabby cars with old doors that have been replaced by other old doors, with rusty spots and a trunk that still only opens manually. Very comfortable, honestly.
Apparently the Kharkov street lights go out after 24.00, so it was rather black when we were driving. I will discover the looks of the city the coming days...
It was an interesting trip to get here: Eindhoven-Schiphol-Istanbul-Kharkov... I met some kind people while I had to wait in Istanbul airport for 4 hours, like a Dutch farmer who was going to Russia on an agrarian field trip. But I started getting slightly uneasy when I got in the airplane to my final destination. It was not even half full... And moreover, in the seats in front of me were 3 girls that smelt like alcohol and reminded me of Fiona, you know: Shrek's girlfriend. My first impression of where I was going...
I was not the last one getting off the plane, but for some reason or another I was the last one at passport control. It was as if the queues had been organically pushing me backwards all the time. I kept waiting and waiting. When it was finally my turn, 'they' in green uniforms without any expressions had some questions for me... What is the purpose of your stay? Are you staying in a hotel? Is your return ticket booked already? Why did you fly over Istanbul and not over Vienna, like all Belgians do...? And on top of that, it appeared that in Istanbul they forgot to stamp my passport. Anyway, nothing was really wrong in the end, and after I had spoken to the 'chief', a girl in a military uniform, with earrings that I might start to experience as nice after 1 month here (pink+blue), but that at that point rather betrayed her age to me (at least 5 years younger than me), I could pass and finally meet graphic designer Iliya, who had been drinking a lot of coffee to stay awake until 2.30. We got into the taxi that had been so nice to wait all the time.
I was reminded of the fact that a 'taxi' to me in general means either wild movies or white or black shining Mercedes vehicles that wait in an organized row in front of airports and stations. But of course, taxis can also be somewhat shabby cars with old doors that have been replaced by other old doors, with rusty spots and a trunk that still only opens manually. Very comfortable, honestly.
The studio of Iliya and Maria, where a cute place to sleep and even a shower have been installed for me, is brilliant. It has a low ceiling and a lot of things that remind me of my own creative environment...
