The Last Of The Last, And The First Of The Next

Even in the times when I think I know everything that has transpired in a conversation, there is still a little bit that gets lost in my translation. Yesterday was New Year’s Eve and our last sauna of the year. In the days leading up to it I was asked what my NYE plans were and I said that I didn’t have any as of yet. I was also asked to bring some cookies to the sauna as my baking skills are getting favorable reviews. I was asked by one of the sauna guys if I wanted to join him for some sausages and vodka after sauna. Having no reason to say no, I agreed. Later in the week I was invited to dinner at Stas and Nadia’s as I mentioned in the last post. Having told them that I was not sure how long (or what kind of shape I would be in) I told them that I would call them only if I would be able to stop by, but not to count on me since I already had a prior commitment. Fast-forward to the extra-long sauna session on Saturday. It started off as usual. About an hour in Farik came in with a box of branches. They are called ваник (va-neek) which are the bundled birch branches that are used to flagellate yourself (or others) during the sauna. It turns out that our sauna friend Peter had purchased several of these for his personal use before his untimely death last summer. Farik stays in contact with Peter’s wife, who gave the branches to him to give to us on this New Year celebration. We finished up the sauna as usual, and as I was getting dressed I saw some of the guys setting out a spread of food and drink. There was bread, salo, pickled tomatoes, and plenty of sausages and vodka. At this moment it dawned on me that my evening was freeing up by the minute. This whole time I was thinking that after the sauna I was going to a private gathering, when it turned out that this was the “sausages and vodka” that I was expecting post-sauna. We all stood around for about an hour toasting the New Year and each other and eating the food that was contributed by all of the attendees. As it looked like we were winding down, I brought out the chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and blondies that I had brought to share. They were received with the same enthusiasm as previous batches. We ended our snack time and I was home by 4:30 and decided to call Stas to see if his invitation was still on the table. It was and he asked me what time I wanted to come over. I said that I would prefer “the earlier, the better” and at 4:35 I was thinking something along the lines of 5:30 or 6:00. Stas countered with an invitation for 9:00pm. That was a little later than I expected, so I decide to grab a couple hours of sleep before heading out.

I arrived at Stas’ apartment just shy of 9:00, Nadia had a dinner set out already and it looked wonderful. She had made a pizza, salad Olivie, an assortment of other salads, and an apple cake for dessert. We opened a bottle of champagne and began to toast with it until we switched to vodka. It seems that Stas may have drunk more in his youth, but these days his intake is considerably less. This is a refreshing change from the gatherings where toasts made to nothing in particular are the norm. We continue to eat and talk until we were all sitting comparing our levels of fullness. 

Stas and I after dinner. 

Nadia and I after dinner

The dinner selection at Stas and Nadia's

It was just about 11:00pm when Stas mentioned that we, as a group of three, we going to a New Year’s get together across the street! Had I realized I was going to be eating again within the hour, I would not have filled up so much on Nadia’s food. But, what was done, was done. Around 11:30 we made the 2 minute walk across the street to Valia, Sasha, and their daughter, Ira’s, apartment. We walked into another tableful of food that dwarfed Nadia’s original layout. We sat down and started another round of feasting and drinking waiting for the midnight hour. I was beyond full and trying to at least give a polite effort on eating a plateful of food. Luckily, several of the dishes had fish in it, which made it easy to refuse. After the President of Ukraine came out and announced the New Year’s countdown live on television we toasted again to the New Year, finishing off my glass of homemade wine and another glass of peach compote. I politely excused myself, thanked my hosts, and called it a night.

The dinner selection at Valya and Sasha's

Outside, fireworks were in full swing by the amateur pyrotechnicians in Stas’ buildings setting off firecrackers and, in some cases, holding Roman candles in their hands either on the ground or in some cases from their balconies, as bystanders watched the glowing balls soar in succession. I am amazed I haven’t noticed any injuries considering how close some of the watchers stand when the fireworks go off. Parenthetically, there are very few street lights or light at all in the common areas such as courtyards, except for the light shining out of the apartment kitchens and now the occasional spark and flame of a match or lighter. What this means is that as I walked through the courtyard- the size of a playground with my flashlight in hand pointed to the ground to prevent a divot or sidewalk obstacle from spraining my ankle, I cannot see the people standing in my vicinity until the match is struck and a fuse is lit. This gives me only seconds to brace for the imminent detonation, however, I also have no way to know the size of the explosion until it actually goes off. Well, let’s just say that some of these explosions were enough to startle me in my path. It only took a moment to continue on my way, but I am sure my flashlight’s momentary shake was enough to humor anyone paying any attention. This scene was repeated a few times on my walk home.

As I got home and laid in bed listening to the continuing of the celebrations on the street, I thought to myself…”it’s been a good year, and here I am starting the next off with a bang…literally.” I just wish El was here to celebrate it with me.