розпливчасті уявлення про час і місце 27/11/2011Posted by brendan in Avions, Trains et Voitures, Bienvenue à la Semaine de Fonctionnement.
Tags: bechtel, chernobyl, chornobyl, european union, exclusion zone, hostel yaroslav, journalism, kiev, kyiv, nuclear power, podil, pripyat, radiation, shelter implementation plan, slavutych, travel, ukraine
Tourist trap but I don’t care. Stella Artois on umbrellas and English on menus are comforting when you’re far from home, battered by logistics and suffering humiliating defeats. The waitress running this high-rent cafe smiled through our mangled ordering and let us stew on the terrace in peace.
In celebration of our nation’s birth the American ambassador was hosting a backyard weenie roast somewhere in the surrounding blocks. I suppose that banal banter and sacrificial animal innards in the name of freedom isn’t much worse than our foiled dancing through the poisoned landscape of Chornobyl. No ethical dilemma, dietary or political, was faced. As quickly as I learned of this BBQ I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to attend.
Not that Our Man in Kyiv had issued a direct decree. A project manager with Bechtel, in-country to oversee work on the multimillion dollar effort to contain, conceal and dismantle the crumbling remains of Chornobyl, had. Using sketchy and possibly illegal information we had positioned ourselves near the official diplomatic residence to receive a post-soiree phone call. (more…)
Україна ще не вмерла 07/06/2011Posted by brendan in Avions, Trains et Voitures, Leçons Culturelles.
Tags: alcoholism, birth defects, cafe d'albert, chernobyl, chornobyl, demographics, devil's bridge, economics, exclusion zone, history, khreschaty park, kiev, kyiv, nuclear power, population, radiation, travel, ukraine, urban, walks, wandering
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Jets of foaming water danced to the pixie’s delight, charming a hapless pack of aging tourists who thought Janice and I could lead them to further enchantments. The monkey grinder plied his trade in gracious silence, the dragon slayer hesitated his delivery of death. Plastic bubbles drifted through the surface scum of their tank, failing to tempt any of the carefree teens eagerly anticipating their elevator ride underground. No horses roamed the carefully tended paths and no evidence betrayed any act of violence towards drunken imbeciles rich with brilliant ideas.
Atlantic City, our convivial breakfast companion given to preemptive fits of hiding ashtrays, insists Kyiv is European. On those rare occasions when my perpetually fractured internal clock aligned with the stars I entertained notions of a Parisian existence while propped against the counter of Cafe d’Albert. There was always at least one older gentleman in a slightly shabby suit beginning his day with a Pernod or Ricard.
The morning drinker at Cafe d’Albert soothes his shakes browsing Liberation or l’Humanité, orders a tartine beurrée, and steps away from the counter before gravity becomes adversarial. Khreschaty Park ends with a small counter bar turning a brisk trade at ten in the morning. Patrons had settled into a spread of tales with half-liters of draft, including a couple decorated members of the local law readying for their shifts. There was little talk and no newspapers. There was no food. (more…)
4 липня 2010 30/05/2011Posted by brendan in Avions, Trains et Voitures, Bienvenue à la Semaine de Fonctionnement.
Tags: chernobyl, chornobyl, exclusion zone, journalism, july 4th, kiev, kyiv, travel, ukraine
It’s beyond my journalistic caliber to land in a place like Kyiv, snap my fingers, and expect magic. Despite robust tourist statistics Ukraine lacks the most basic infrastructure for foreign travelers. Russian, not English, remains the second language. Official government websites are often outdated or have vanished. E-mail has yet to become culturally ingrained.
Foundations were slowly laid. My editor contacted two western photographers working in the country but neither were available for assignment. On one’s recommendation a local stringer named Ivan was approached and agreed to the job. While Wired was engaged in one dance I was waltzing with international organizations, having my name passed from scientist to minister, courting interviews. Everyone wanted me to call when I was in town.
Direct contact with Ivan was established days before leaving Paris for Poland. He attempted to coordinate affairs with a recommended fixer named Vlad with little success. It took until Tarnów before I was given Vlad’s e-mail. The plan was to journey into the exclusion zone on July 4th because I thought it would be funny and because Marina, Queen of Kyiv, had two tour groups making their own trip that day. Vlad also agreed to act as my representative by taking a list of phone numbers and arranging interviews so I could hit the ground running. (more…)
загиблих солдатів і вчених 26/05/2011Posted by brendan in Avions, Trains et Voitures, Bienvenue à la Semaine de Fonctionnement.
Tags: biorobots, chernobyl, chornobyl, chornobyl museum, exclusion zone, history, journalism, kiev, kyiv, liquidators, nuclear power, podil, pripyat, prostitution, radiation, tourism, travel, ukraine
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Cracker… Cracker. Looking for Cracker, the closest approximation to whatever Cyrillic Janice had carefully researched and copied down. City planners in Kyiv never saw the need to litter corners with street signs, leaving you to wander in the shadow of luck. One or two buildings a block boast plaques with addresses and the name of whatever you’re standing on. This makes it marginally more navigable than Japan.
Emergency vehicles from bygone days were lined in a tidy row, polished to a shine. Vehicles that responded to Chornobyl absorbed such doses of radiation graveyards of trucks, helicopters and buses were left behind. In the 25 years since a thriving scrap metal trade has flourished, impoverished Ukrainians and Belorussians slipping through porous borders into the exclusion zone. Adi Roche, founder of Chernobyl Children International, speaks of dead village encounters with people stripping houses. The French photographer Guillaume Herbaut— who I would later court back in Paris– shot an essay on smugglers. But these were probably replicas. (more…)