Kharkov. . . Revisited

This was our second trip to Kharkov, only this time, instead of the overnight train, we took the bus. 

On the bus we could travel, Donetsk to Kharkov (Xarkov) in only six hours and a half.  Because we had never been to the bus station nor riden on a bus long-distance, Ani and Aushot called us to say that they would like to borrow his father's car and drive us to the bus station.  We were very touched by this offer to serve.  After we arrived at the station, they did not leave, but waited with us until our bus arrived.

The bus was comfortable with individual climate controls for each bank of seats.  We found it interesting that, even though we had seat numbers on our bus tickets with our individual seats assigned, still, all along our route people who were standing by the roadside, suitcase in hand, would wave the bus down and board, paying the driver in cash, then ride the remaining five, four or three hours into Kharkov standing in the aisle of the bus. 

The roads here are fascinating. Granite is a natural resource so granite slabs become curbs and granite bricks are pavement.

We had breakfast every morning of our stay in this interesting restaurant/museum.  Above us is a model constructed from DeVinchi's drawings of a machine by which man might fly.  The walls were decorated with images from his sketch books. 

I loved the old books.  It was great fun to touch the old leather bindings, to turn the pages of old cyrillic script and wonder exactly what all of that archaic writing said.

I know that Elder Hatch liked the prototype of the flying machine, but I think his favorite thing may have been the old cross-bow.  The same day that we drove home we accompanied President and Sister Campero on a shopping excursion through the large outdoor market called, Barbashova.  There are miles of shop-lined walkways offering for sale every kind of merchandise.

Because Elder and Sister Aagard will be going home to Wyoming in just a few days, all of the couples met together at the Kharkov zone conference.  Our farewell dinner for this dedicated missionary couple was held at an outdoor restaurant.  The evening air was a little nippy, but the management supplied lap robes.

 
 One disadvantage of ordering from a menu where foods have Ukranian names and words are spelled in Cyrillic is that you may be
surprised at what ends up being served.  Both Sister Burr and I were astonished to find on our plates the culinery delight above.  I enjoyed only the aesthetics of the thing.  Sister Burr hid hers under her napking, saying:   "I just couldn't eat anything that looks like a spider."

One evening we were invited to join a group for "Amerikanski belinki (pancakes).  Maple syrup is an unknown entity here, and so, to make the meal more authentic, the belinki were topped with sweetened condensed milk.  Ukranians are fascinated by this American food. 
It was Elder Rallison's birthday so he was presented with a candle-topped birthday pancake.  Elder Hatch and I prefer the actual Ukranian Belinki which are more like a rolled French Crepe filled with beef or chicken, cheese and mushrooms or with strawberries, bananas and chocolate.  These are cooked and served from small, street-side stands and are truly delicious.