It's Wednesday morning here, 25 hours after our arrival (my friend Yossi Sterberg and myself).
I'm here on a spiritual pilgrimage, but the first thing which strikes me is the change in Kiev since I was here under communism almost 18 yrs ago.
It seems a bustling Western-style city. Vibrant. Manhattan-like.Flashy cars (I don't think I saw a single un-cracked windshield last time) Three large orthodox shuls, kosher etc.
The countryside still seems the same though.
Cows walking streets, lots of bikes, some horse-wagons on the roads.Hovels as homes. But one thing struck me.
We were driving down a small road in Haditch, a tiny village, and I saw a classic sight: three gnarled, weatherbeaten, kercheifed Ukrainian women are sitting in the shade, with hens, roosters and a calf at their feet, leaning against a decrepit picket fence in front of their tiny homes. Relaxing in this simple haven from the world.
As I pause to take in the sight, my eye follows the fence upward to its top - where the satellite dish is proudly perched.
Mendy