The Boredom Chronicles

Part I. "Everything Is Broken"
I snicker to use the title here, but I will never forget my old boss, Greg, pulling out these specific Bob Dylan lyrics whenever things that were supposed to be going like clockwork, started falling apart and ended in a mess that needed to be addressed quickly and efficiently to get everything back online. I am having a weekend of mixed emotions and I am trying to remain optimistic about the near future, that it will all work out. It started a few weeks ago when I started noticing the left hand side of my computer keyboard getting remarkably hot. At first I thought it might have something to do with the weather that has changed from comfortably warm to really damn hot during the day. Our office has no air conditioner or even fan for that matter, so I thought the heat in the room was just making the heat from the computer feel less pleasant than it did during the cold winter months. I know computers get hot, but when I say "remarkably hot"- I mean you cannot hold your finger to the side for first degree burns result. A little scary if the unit was actually to be used as a laptop and placed on a lap. Ouch. I was told about a ventilation mat that I could buy to help draw the heat from the unit during use. I guess, in retrospect that is kind of a misdirected solution, since it does not address the cause of the problem. I went to the computer shop in town and asked if he sold these mats. He did. Then I asked if they worked. He said "a little" while he gestured 50/50 with his hand waffling side to side. He added that he thought that my internal fan just needed a cleaning. He said he could look at it immediately. I went back to the library and properly shut down the computer, packed it up, and carried it back to the shop. He said he would be done in an hour. I came back after the hour and he said "there is a little bit of a problem, I cannot get the computer to turn on"! He took me to his desk and showed me that the unit did not, in fact, turn on. The unit gets power and I hear the DVD drive spinning, but besides indicator lights showing the power source and wi-fi capability, the screen and hard drive are unresponsive. I explain that I had no problem any morning at work or evening at home and reminded him that it was working fine just an hour earlier. I did not accuse him of breaking the computer, only smirking at the incredible coincidence of the medical equivalent of someone walking to a hospital for a checkup and dropping dead of a heart attack in the lobby. He told me that he could look at it further on Monday. I took my five pound paperweight and returned to the library. Now, I had to think of my options. I emailed El to ask if she had any suggestions. She called me with some tips and tricks, but we agreed that this was probably more serious of a problem than a simple reset could solve. I texted my friend Gregorie who is the manager of the computer room at the government offices in town. He met me on Saturday night at my apartment and after about 1 minute concluded that my motherboard was probably shot and admitted there was nothing more he could do in the apartment and that any opening of the unit would void any warranties. He also assured me that no shop in this town has the replacement parts for this problem. This was a big city problem. He gave me the name and contact for a computer service shop in Simferopol and I said I would call on Monday to figure out how they operate and make my arrangements. After another few minutes of discussing my Monday conversation with the shop (or more realistically, Lenara's conversation to ask my questions) Gregorie offered to come to my office on Monday and make the call for me since he was the most familiar with the problem. I have my fingers crossed that my hard drive data can be recovered, and that my computer can be repaired in a timely fashion- even though it looks like I will have to take the 7 hour round trip two times, once to drop it off and another to pick it up.
Before January I did not have internet at my apartment. I had it at work and then on evenings and weekends I would at least be able to watch movies or listen to music or work offline on the laptop. Now, as I sit in my apartment with no computer, I realize just how big a roll that thing plays in my sanity. I do not own a television, so it's high time to get creative. I actually (gasp!) sat and read a book last night. I have started to read Anthony Bourdain's Medium Raw. It is an easy read and even though I don't like it as much as Kitchen Confidential it is way better than my current alternatives (i.e. sitting and staring out the window?) It is currently Sunday morning and I think I will go for a bike ride. I gather my motivation and remember that I have no bike. No, it was not stolen...it's broken down. More on that later (the line echoing in my brain, "Eh-vrythng izbrok-en")

Part II. 6 exercises

A few weeks ago I mentioned that some friends of mine put together a list of fun challenges for our little group to do. For volunteers who may feel themselves in an "integration rut" and fallen into some sort of continued learning funk. It is a fun, self-directed community integration game. Although, as I read through the list it seemed that some of the tasks were geared more towards people who live in bigger cities than smaller communities like mine. As much as I looked at the things I was to accomplish, I did not think these were the kind of integration hurdles I needed to overcome. But, two of the items stuck in my mind. One: ask a babushka when strawberry season ends. Two: Get on a random bus and take it to the end of the line, and if your town doesn't have buses, take a walk down that street in your town you have never been on and draw a map/take pictures. Still deciding if I was going to step up and accept this challenge full on or pass in favor of something else, I have used being in the right place at the right time to ask two different babas about the strawberries. The problem I ran into was that I was just meeting them for the first time when I asked. The first was Maria Nakitishna, a baba who is visiting Razdol'noye for a portion of the summer. I was standing outside one evening and talking to some neighbors when she came out. When she could tell I wasn't from around here, she would ask questions about me to the guys I was standing with. "Where is he from?" she would ask as if I was not just standing there. I answered before they could, hoping that she would ask me the next question. As if she hadn't been answered at all she would ask again of the neighbors, "where does he live?", "where does he work?", "why is he here?" All as if I was not standing there at all. All with the same results of me answering, each  time expecting the limit of my Russian would have been exhausted by the last answer. Eventually, the neighbors went inside to their respective apartments, leaving us outside. Just baba and me. As I was ready to turn and leave, I asked "what is your name? Oh, and by the way, do you know when strawberry season ends?" I got her name and she understood my question about strawberries, however, since we had never spoken before now, it was impossible for her to know how I need to be spoken to- slowly, and with small words. I understood that she is from St. Petersburg, Russia and she thought that the strawberry season in the two places my be different and that since the season is over in St. Petersburg, it was probably almost over here. At least that is what I think she said. Whatever. I don't buy strawberries, so I don't care when he season ends. Today, as I walked by the "baba bench" (every apartment building has at least one bench in front where all the babas gather to gossip or keep tabs on the comings, leavings, and general goings on in the building), I saw the baba who is a fixture near door number four.

Weather permitting, she sits on many days making full use of the baba bench. I always say "hello" but have never introduced myself (I live at door 1). But, I always pass with a smile, "hello", or a half-hearted doff of the cap. Today, I stopped. I spoke slowly and clearly..."hello, do you know when strawberry season ends?" She inhaled deeply- the length of time it took her to come up with the answer. She too spoke too fast for me and it did not seem worth it for me to ask her to repeat the whole explanation, but rather my M.O. of paraphrasing her words into my own, confirmed that I understood enough to know that if I want strawberries, I need to get down to the market today because they are getting worse by the day and they will not be as good for the rest of the summer as they are right now as their prime has passed. Again, I'm not really in the market for strawberries, so hustling to the bazaar was not on my agenda. Nonetheless, I was able to have a small conversation with someone who I see almost every day. In no way a bad thing, but I can see that this might be a little more daunting a task if I lived in a city where you see a lot less of the same people on a daily basis, but since I talk to strangers regularly, I don't see that my integration skills have necessarily improved because of this exercise. The only thing to come out of it, was that I learned when strawberry season ends- unfortunately this information does nothing for me. I guess it's more about the opening of the communication door than the content.

Part III. To Bike Or Not To Bike
I was all ready to write a blog about how Lenara and I have started to ride our bikes around town, but at this point I am pretty sure I could write more about how her interest in long distance riding has dwindled than about what we had actually done together. When I suggested riding bikes to a festival on Saturday she thought it would take too long, be too dangerous, be too tiring, make her too sweaty, exacerbate her unknown-until-now medical conditions, and leave her unable to function for the rest of the day, and possibly the next. It was a laundry list of excuses why riding 7km (one way) to attend a festival on Saturday morning would not work. Mind you, she rides 2 1/2 km to work every morning, so I didn't think the extra would be so far out of the question. I was able to convince her on Tuesday to make a test run, offering to pay for a taxi should she decide mid-ride that she had taken on more than she was capable of. I suggested riding the route to the festival after work and that if pain, or darkness, or any other issues were concerning, we would abort, no judgments. The short of it is that instead of the festival site, we made a test run on bike to the beach which is 8km from town. (yes, the test run was longer than the actual route- but she chose it). Besides both of us being a little rusty on long rides, the ride was great. The road relatively flat with relatively little traffic. The ride was straight down one road and she got to dip her feet in the sea at the end of it. 

All good. I took this as a sign that we were ready to make the ride on Saturday to the festival in Kovilnoe. On Friday, not acknowledging our previous ride, she asks when I would meet her at the bus station on Saturday morning. I tell her that I am riding and hoping for her to join. She refused to ride and told me that we could meet at the bus stop in Kovilnoe. She arrived by bus, I arrived on bike. A good, smooth ride. One problem though, as I arrive, my front tire is flat. I pull out the pump I have and even though it works for a minute, it is obvious that it is leaking air at a severe rate. We walk to the festival which is being held in the house of culture in town. The walk is only minutes. Lenara is asking already what will I do? I am just learning about this for the first time, I am in a village where I know no one, I am a considerable costing taxi ride from home, and I am not happy that my bike already needs big repairs and I have only owned it for a few weeks. I don't know what I am going to do! Give me some time to think of my options, will you? Please? I decide to ask around at the festival if anyone knows the town bike repairman. I figured with such a bike culture as village life supports, surely there are one or two bike repairers here. Well, sadly, just as my town doesn't have a computer repair shop we take our stuff to Simferopol, it seems that this town doesn't have a bike repair guy and everyone takes theirs to my town when needed. Undetrred by two or three negative answers, I continue to ask around until I finally run into someone I know who is at the festival with his car! I explain that it would be helpful if he knew someone in this town who could fix my tire. He suggested, why don't I let him take the bike in his trunk and get it repaired for me and call me tomorrow? Well, he didn't have to ask me twice, and before I knew it, the bike was in his trunk, half hanging out, as Lada's are not known for their spacious trunks. I sit in my apartment on Sunday morning planning my day, in hopes of receiving the call of a fixed tire. If not, I will wait until Monday. 

Part IV. Too Much Time On My Hands 
Without a computer and on a morning that I might ordinarily take a bike ride, I am now limited to walking. That's OK. I've walked before, but where? The second part of the challenge comes to me and I think "I know a street in my town I have never been on...let me go see what that's all about".
It is 10:00 on Sunday morning. Time usually reserved for catching up on TV shows and radio programs. With sauna on Sunday evenings now, and with my shopping day recently being moved to either Friday (the cheap market day) or Saturday (the popular market day), I am less likely to go outside until I head off to meet the guys for sauna at 5:00pm. Today, as I sit computerless, I ponder other options. I could continue to read my book, I could clean my apartment, I could do laundry, or I could sit and blog, bitching about my broken computer and bike. Although that does sound like exactly what I want to do, I decide to see what good can come from me walking down to the, as far as I know, only street I have never walked on in my town. Razdol'noye is a small town. It has one main street with two names. The northern half, from the bazaar to the rotary is named Lenina (after Lenin, of course) and every town has one. The southern half from the bazaar down to the other rotary is named Evpatoriaskaya (basically, the road to Evpatoria) and every town has those too (except not necessarily to Evpatoria, just a directional road to the next "big" town). I live on the east side of this main road. There are only three streets that run north-south the length of the town on the east side of Lenina...and only two that connect all three of them. Let's just say, if the planners of this town had an actual plan it was known only to them. Anyway, these streets, all in rough shape, are my immediate neighborhood, so whether I am taking my morning walk, going to work, or meeting the guys for sauna, I have been at one time or another on every street on this side of town. At one point, all of the streets turn to unpaved dirt and unless I know someone on those streets, I don't really have any reason to go down them- but I have been on them. The other side of town, I have a lot less experience on. Besides visiting some friends who live in the northwestern corner of our town and the occassional visit to the "first school", I haven't had a chance to explore much. Strike that, I have certainly had the chance, I just didn't sieze it. Well, today was my day. I know Erin, and some of our local teacher friends work at "second school", but since I had never given a presentation at the second school, I was only familiar with the first school. Today, I was going to see that street. There are only two streets that run the north-south length of Razdol'noye on this west side of town. My first stop was Erin's school. Again, I knew it existed, I just never had a reason to go there. It looks just like the other school, but with something in front that I had only heard about. It was a monument.

This country in general, is monument and statue crazy. Not in a bad way, they just feel that it is important to commemorate events and people...a lot. A couple of months ago we (the staff of the library) attended a memorial service for the victims of the Chernobyl disaster. After the short service, since we were in a new part of town, I asked Lenara to show me around the nearby cemetery to see if there was anything of interest there. I mean, it's not like I knew people there (actually I guess I do know our friend Petr who died last year), but I wasn't going for any other reason than to just check it out. When we got to the entrance, I saw a memorial to the soldiers of WWII among other war related memorials. I understand these served as the town memorial until the new one was built near my apartment in the park. Among all of the war memorials, stood one grave. It was bigger than most, not by much, but it was more than a simple grave that most of the interred have. Instead of a photograph encased in glass, which is pretty popular, this one actually had a sculpted bust attached directly onto the granite. I read the words on the headstone and Lenara told me about the man buried here.

His name was Leonid Gregorovich and he was the head of the town administration. I don't know (I don't think Lenara remembers or knew) what exactly prompted his opposition, but he was gunned down in 1996 on the street in front of the second school as he walked from his home to his office. Today, I stood on the spot where it happened. I sat and reflected for a few minutes before continuing down to the same cemetery and visiting his gravesite again. I never knew this gentleman and will probably not learn much more about the circumstances of his politics or death, but it just struck me as a real life reminder of how problems get solved in many areas of the world. The street, is now named after him and as I walked down to the cemetery I found something I wasn't expecting, another restaurant! It looks like a cafe/bar and is closed on the weekends. Our whole town only has a handful of places to sit for a beer. I will be sure to stop in to check out the offerings when they are open. The rest of my walk yielded little in terms of new sights. But that, I thought, was enough for one day. [post script: it turns out that some of the older people in town remember fairly well about the circumstances surrounding this gentleman's death. My interest is purely curiosity, but my Russian is not good enough to explain that to most of the people in this community. I have found out that several residents of Razdol'noye were implicated and served jail time for conspiring in the assassination and that a few still live in this small town. For obvious reasons, I have decided it might be better for me not to ask too many more questions.]

Part V. "Do You Have Any Candy?"
This is my new "friend". His name is Andreii Alexeiovich.

Many people know his face, but few I suspect, know his name. A couple of months back, I was doing a project at first school and on the way walking to the school, I engaged in conversation with this older gentleman who asked if I had any candy as I walked by. I admitted that I did not and pressed on to he school. After the presentation, we were walking past his yard again and again he asked if I had any candy. Again I declined and kept walking. I got about ten feet beyond the corner of his fence before I turned around and went back to ask what kind of candy he wanted. His voice is frail and he speaks much faster than I can understand, but I did a quick introduction with him telling him my name and asking his. After this, I asked if he wanted chocolate candy or fruit candy. He did not, after several tries, understand what I was asking and he just kept asking if I had any candy. I decided to go to the store and buy just six pieces of candy. Three chocolate and three fruit. I returned and he asked if I had any candy. By this time, I was thinking that there was something a little less to his question than I was reading into it. Really, it was fine, but if I never returned with the candy, he might still be asking the passersby if they had any candy for him with no expectation of my returning. Afterwards, I was talking to Erin about the old guy named Andreii that stands out asking for candy. She said he is there all day, every day just standing there asking in an strangely ironic twist if the little girls have any candy for him? I guess he has a couple of other benign questions that, by now, all go unanswered by the schoolkids who walk past every day. Standing alone with one crutch and one cane, and not providing more than a moments thought to the people on their way to school- I imagine that not many stop to talk to or bring candy to the man.Today, I walked past his spot and saw him standing as if he hadn't moved in the three month interrim. As I approached his spot, I turned off my headphones, expecting at least to give a quick "hello", and at most engaging in conversation with him. As I got face to face with him through the fence, I think for a split second he recognizes me as his eyes get a little wide and he asks "do you have any candy?" I admitted that I did not, but would be happy to run and get him some. I don't know if it is his hearing, my grammar, my accent, or all three, that make it difficult for him to understand my questions, but I was able to determine that a few pieces of chocolate would make his day. I told him I would return after a few minutes and set off to my candy store to get the goods. I made good on my word and came back after about 10 minutes. As I returned, Andreii's eyes got wide in anticipation, no doubt as he welcomed me back with a soft spoken, "do you have any candy?" "I sure do, Andreii, three pieces of chocolate, just for you. The girl at the store told me they are very tasty, so I got them for you." He stepped forward with a glint of childlike excitement, and held out his hand while I filled it with three pieces of candy. He immediately put the candy in his shirt pocket. I asked some questions about his life and he asked me if I worked in Razdol'noye. I explained my situation, he seemed satisfied, if not a little surprised by my answers (I get that a lot). Our conversation did not last too long, but just before I left he got in one last question..."Do you have any candy?" he asked. I pointed out that if he looked, he might find some in his shirt pocket. He looked down and the look of discovery on his face was sweet and sad at the same time. He wasn't looking for candy. He wasn't even looking for conversation. He wasn't looking for engagement. His brain is just following routine, I suppose. Even though he won't remember me, or even necessarily appreicate the gesture, I will remember to pick up some candy the next time I am walking up that street...come to think of it, maybe I'll go out of my way to walk up that street sometime this week. Because everyone needs a piece of candy now and then. [post script: I made good on my plan. I stopped and got three pieces of candy and took them to Anrdeii. As I approached, he looked at me and asked, "do you have any...drugs!" (he used the word tabletky- which is like prescription drug pills- he wasn't looking for herion or anything. Although, maybe next time? I gave him the candy and reintroduced myself. He lit up when I remembered his name, but I didn't have a lot of time that day, so our meeting was brief.]

VI. One Down, One To Go
This Saturday marked the one year anniversary of my arrival in the town of Razdol'noye, and what a year it has been. From that first day arriving with Lenara at 6:30am, getting picked up at the train station and brought to my apartment that wasn't yet ready for me, to today where I have been able to use my connections to address a broken laptop and broken bicycle through the networking I have done. Through one of the worst winters in Crimea's history and my constantly meeting new people in town. It has been a year filled with way more ups than downs. In true Ukrainian fashion, Lenara decided we needed to celebrate. Erin is out of town on vacation and when it really came down to it, it was just us who needed to celebrate. I didn't want a party or anything, but we decided on the perfect place: Chicago. Last fall Lenara had gone to the city of Evpatoria and found a restaurant called Chicago. It is a pizza/Italian place with Al Capone wallpaper and Don Corleone photos on the wall. We decided to make the afternoon of it. We would go to the festival in the morning (where my bike broke down), then take the 12:30pm bus to Evpatoria. We would eat, walk around the city a little bit, and catch the 5:10pm bus back home. Everything worked out...except the part about my bike breaking. We got to Evpatoria around 2:00pm and walked to the restaurant which took about 30 minutes. The food was decent. A pizza better than anything I get in Razdol'noye. I had a great afternoon spending it with the most important woman in my life on this side of the Atlantic. Lenara has done so much for me (and Erin too) as volunteers and just makes our lives so much easier than it could be. I know volunteers who have absentee counterparts. I know volunteers who have hostile counterparts (remember sometimes host organizations assign an employee to be a counterpart to the American with no added compensation) who take out their aggressions on the American who is already having difficulty communicating...but not my counterpart! She has been amazing to he point that other volunteers are like, "I love your counterpart!" I smile and thank the fates that brought me to this place right now. I really can't say enough about the good things she has done to help me make living in Ukraine as great as it can be. We have our challenges working together, but not in a contentious kind of way. She is just used to working differently than I do and I am not here to change that, but rather work within these new parameters. It has been a challenge for sure, to the point that working at the library seems to be taking a back seat to other forms of "community development". Either way, Lenara is an amazing person that has a chance to create the real change that this country needs. As long as she keeps doing what she is doing in terms of self improvement, she is part of the group that will make Ukraine better tomorrow and prove that declaring independence over 20 years ago was the right thing to do.

So, on the occassion of my one year aniversary, over a slice of pizza, glass of beer in hand, I tip a glass in thanks to my (counter)partner in Crime(ea), Lenara Rishatovna Seyt-Bilyal. Mine regular, hers is the non-alcoholic variety, but the smiles are no different. Za zdroviya, my friend, here's to one more year.

Part VII. Today Is The Day
I shouldn't be, but I am really surprised just how lost I am without my computer. Sure, I could just as easily have been assigned to a Peace Corps site without electricity- but I figure that I just would have discovered just how much I rely on that thing a lot sooner than I did. Today is Tuesday. Yesterday, Gregorie came to my office and called the service center he recommended for me in Simferopol. He asked about timeframes for repairs, addresses, and operating hours. They open at 9:00am. Simferopol is the capital of Crimea and is our best bet besides making the overnight trip to Kiev, to get anything we need. If it is available in Crimea, it is in Simferopol. So this is where I have to go to get the computer repaired. The bus that gets me to Simferopol leaves at 6:10am, meaning I have to get up at 3:55am. It is already getting light out even though the sun has not yet hit the horizon, but you can tell it won't be long before it does. I keep my morning routine just so I don't misguage how long it will take to get to the bus station on time. Lenara knows I may need translation help at the repair shop, but hopefully I can do it without her, especially if someone speaks a little English it goes a long way to bridge the language gap. It is now 8:30am and we are on the last leg of the ride to the capital. My hope was that I could get to the shop before they open (but the bus schedule does not allow), wait for the diagnostic test, then, cross my fingers, wait for the repair. I do have some friends in town that I could probably stay with if it looks like one day is all that will be needed. Otherwise, I will need to go home and make the round trip later in the week. I have been speaking with El daily to update her on my situation. I like thinking one or two steps ahead- she is more like four or five. She may have had a foot out the door to mail me a new computer while I had not yet received a proper diagnosis of the problem. I love her to death for it, but it is very rare that optimism rears is pretty head on my end of a problem while it is her that takes the pessimistic road, though practically urgent may be a better tag for her actions. I will remain hopeful that this is a speedbump and not a cliff. I arrive to Simferopol at 10:00am. I get the bus to the neighborhood and find the service center. I am able to explain my problem and ask how much the diagnostic is. He tells me free if I get the repair done. If I choose not to, it is only 60UAH (about US$7.50). I give them mine and Lenara's phone numbers and tell them I will wait. I find a cafe nearby to sit in the air conditioning and journal. It is now 11:10am and they have already diagnosed the problem and tell me it will cost 550UAH to repair as they do not have and cannot get a replacement chip anytime soon. This will be about a US$70 computer chip fix, while I wait, no less. I better hope they don't get lessons on diagnostics and repairs from their American counterparts. I have a feeling when I get back to America, I can see myself in a service center of any kind saying, "what do you mean you will try to get to it by next Tuesday!?" I guess this is my tradeoff for my monthly visit to the gas and electric bill where I stand in line terminally to pay my roughly $3 bill. With the news of the fix, also comes the realization that something will still be wrong with my computer that caused the breakage in the first place. I have a gut feeling it is essentially an electrical issue. I use my laptop a lot. All day at work and then a few hours each night and all weekend. The computer comes (all do these days) with a transformer built-in the adapter. The outlets in Ukraine are 220 volts, twice that of US' 110. This means that when I plug my American purchased laptop into a 220 outlet, the adapter itself has to step the current down to 110 before sending it to the computer. This cannot be an ideal situation for all of the use it gets. As I sit in the cafe, I feel like one of those people making their resolutions to the heavens that if I can just get out of this jam this one time... Well, I am not necessarily promising to live a more virtuous life, but I will admit, if I can at least recover my hard drive information, then I will give some upwards thanks. I promise myself to go tonight and make a backup of all essential files...and to start weighing options of whether I want to purchase a new laptop here, or if I should just ride this one out and play the situation by ear the next time it craps out. I say I will be more diligent, and I want to be, but something tells me that I will find myself in this same pickle in a few months and have only myself to blame. Sadly, the original diagnosis appears flawed. A chip that appeared repairable, has now been classified as "unrepairable" and ordering and installing a replacement part will be cost prohibitive. I arrive to collect my dead weight and ask if the information on the hard drive is recoverable and they tell me that it is. I expect to take my belongings and ask someone like Gregorie to help me recover the information that I now have no access to. The guys at the service center- through miscommunication or pity, or a little of both take the computer and offer to recover the information right now. This is at least a small silver lining in the dark cloud that is my computer woes of the week. It is just after 3:00pm and they close at 6:00. I am not sure how much of my most important files will transfer through the firewire to my external drive between now and then. Although I still have to weigh options, it looks like I will need a new computer sooner than later and deciding whether to buy it here or have it shipped is one of my concerns right now. As the day progresses, so does my luck dwindle. I sit in the office of the repair shop and check my bus schedule. I see the last bus out is at 7:05. Since they close at 6:00, I should have plenty of time to get to the station and buy my ticket. At 5:55, I have not seen my tech and figure it should be about time to cut the losses, cancel the transfer, give me my stuff back and get out so they can close. I ask at the counter for the goods. The guy comes back and says there is another hour to go on the transfer! "OK, just cancel it", I tell him. He tells me that this is impossible since the files will not be complete. I assume, he is doing a cut and paste, rather than a copy and paste, deleting the old files as they are moved to their new home. However, this is going to leave me in a jam for the bus situation. 
The files finish transferring just before 8:00pm, much later than the last bus. I made my calls in hopes that one of my acquaintences would be around and have some floor space for the night. My friend Cynthia comes through and puts me up. We met some of her friends at a local pizza place/bar to watch Ukraine solidify their elimination from the Euro 2012 competition. I was bleary eyed sleepy when we left around midnight. I go to sleep starting to consider my computer options. Lenara will be on vacation for the next few weeks and next week I will be exploring the city of L'viv, not needing the computer. So, I think at this point I will carefully consider my options and right this ship when the decision has been made.
And while this concludes "The Boredom Chronicles", I have, if only momentary, a newfound appreciation for my ability to entertain myself when necessity dictates.