Lost & Found – Kiev Metro: The Memory Of Moments (Travels In Eastern Europe #52)

One minute I was in a half-empty train car fighting off sleep, the next I was standing in the central railway station of Ukraine’s largest city. Kiev-Pasazhyrskyi station was a hive of energy, people were everywhere. It was Saturday afternoon and the whole world was in motion. The signboards showed trains heading in every direction. One in particular – the express from Kiev to Moscow – caught my eye. Russia suddenly felt very close, even though it was still hundreds of kilometers to the east. Then again, the genesis of Russia much to the chagrin of the Kremlin, began with Kievan Rus. Up until the mid-13th century – when the city was destroyed by Mongol hordes – Kiev was the nexus of the Eastern Slavic world. At Kiev I was entering another world, where Europe and Asia intermingled, politically and culturally it did not belong to one or the other, but something all its own. Geographically this could be considered the far east of eastern Europe. 

Into the Depths - Escalator to Kiev Metro

Into the Depths – Escalator to Kiev Metro (Credit: Jason Minshull)

A Current Of Fear – Plumbing The Depths
Upon arrival, my immediate mission was to find my way to the Kiev metro. From background reading I had learned that it was incredibly cheap. I also discovered that the metro was an engineering marvel, having the deepest station (Arsenalna) in the world. I weaved my way through the crowds, making my way to the metro entrance. Before entering I would first have to purchase a ticket. This should not have been a problem except for the fact that all my Hryvnia (Ukraine’s currency) was buried within a self-inflicted system to discourage pickpockets. It included two layers of pants atop a money belt. As waves of passengers headed to the escalators, I was stuck beside the ticket machine attempting to excavate my wallet without stripping.  At one point my hand was crammed down the front of my pants while I tried to somehow unzip the money belt. No one seemed to notice my embarrassing predicament except for the one person whose attention I most wanted to avoid. A young Ukrainian policeman was standing close to the entrance chatting with another man. He watched as I rummaged around in the front of my pants. I saw him staring at me, then noticed that he said something to the man beside him while nodding in my direction.

A current of fear ran through me. The policeman walked up to me and asked for my ID. This sent me into a furious second excavation attempt.  After more frantic rummaging, I finally managed to procure my passport. Handing it over, the officer leafed through the pages, until he found the one with my personal information. I watched as he studied it with intense suspicion. He did not say a word, then glanced up at me. Abruptly he said “Ok” and handed it back. I felt a wave of relief. For a moment, I had believed he would take me and my passport away in a bribery scam. When first confronted I had been sweating profusely from lugging a large suitcase around. A typically confused tourist overwhelmed by the speed and energy of a large city. Maybe I did not look worth the bother, or maybe I looked like I would not have much to offer or maybe he was just doing his job. Whatever the case, that interaction then made the following minutes of procuring a ticket seem rather easy. Soon I was on my way into the subterranean bowels of the Kiev Metro.

Illumination- Vokzalna Metro Station Kiev

Illumination- Vokzalna Metro Station Kiev (Credit: AMY)

Squeezed On All Sides – Packing In The Passengers
The escalator ride to the underground took minutes rather than seconds. It was difficult to fathom the depths of Kiev’s metro system. Two things were immediately noticeable on this Saturday afternoon. The first involved the metro cars, which were packed with people. Passengers were literally standing within inches of one another. The heat in the car was nearly overwhelming, almost all of it emanating from the packed in passengers. I managed to somehow squeeze into this seething mass with a very large suitcase. In a matter of seconds, I was sweating profusely. I also noticed the eerie quiet that descended on the metro car. It was a strange feeling to be pressed so closely against fellow passengers, but for everyone to remain silent. The only other sound besides the train rolling along the tracks, was the breathing of passengers.

The Kiev Metro is by far the most utilized public transport in the city. Over a million passengers a day ride on three metro lines, this accounts for nearly half of all passengers using public transport in Kiev. And no wonder, even by Ukrainian standards a ticket is ultra-cheap. For a westerner such as myself, the cost of the ride – the equivalent of 20 cents – was negligible. The drawback to such cheap and efficient transport was the overflow passenger levels, especially along the most utilized routes. I was going three stops down the busy Red Line, starting from Vokzalna (which is accessed from the main Railway Station) to Universytet then Teatralna and finally Khreshchatyk. At each stop I hoped for a respite from the human induced humidity within the car, but more people boarded at each stop. By the final two stations I was literally squeezed on all sides.

The Memory of Moments - Kiev Metro Train

The Memory of Moments – Kiev Metro Train

An Elusive Quest – To Meet A Woman He Had Never Met Before
One of those pressed close to me was a middle aged man who said “excuse me” as we were pressed into one another. This led to a short conversation. He hailed from the Netherlands and was headed to the city of Odessa on the Black Sea coast of Ukraine to meet a woman he had never met before (this is rather typical of foreign men and Ukrainian women). He had a couple hours layover, thus he decided to take a look around Kiev, before the potential marriage meet up in Odessa. Something about it sounded romantic and rather ridiculous.  As he was telling me all this, the surrounding passengers did not say a word, eyeing us suspiciously for breaking the silence. We were both pouring sweat, swaying to and fro while the metro car jerked, skidded and glided its way to Khreshchatyk. Upon arrival, the Dutchman informed me that he was traveling on down the line. I exited and headed towards the surface.

To this day I still wonder what happened to him and that potential relationship. This is the magnificently evocative part of travel, to meet someone for less than five minutes and find yourself thinking about them recurrently for years to come. Travel becomes an elusive quest to retain the memory of people, places and events that were experienced intensely for a few minutes or moments. These have the potential to change everything or nothing, mostly it is the latter. The metro left me with a first and what would become a lasting impression of Kiev as a big, bold city. The policeman who checked my documents left me with a scare, the Dutchman left me with a recurring memory that gets dimmer as the years pass. The same could not be said of the Ukrainian capital. In the coming days Kiev would leave me with a memory that never goes away, even if I wish it would.

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