Chilly Wednesday

I got up early today (well, relatively early) and walked down to the purported market location.  And there it was, big as life.  It must just be a morning thing.  I hit rush hour on the way - not of cars but of people.  They were streaming out of the metro station headed toward all the various streets that finger off from Independence Square.  I was going against the flow for a while.  Then as I walked down the broad boulevard that runs to the market, I passed a large demonstration forming up.  This was at the Mayors office or Presidents office, or some place important.  There were police arrayed all the way across the front of the building, shoulder to shoulder, in some places three deep.  The front row was in full riot gear.  In front of them were several hundred people with three different sets of flags, playing what sounded like patriot music.  Across the boulevard (the side I stayed on) was a small group holding Ukrainian flags.  I assumed they were counter demonstrators, but they were all standing quietly.  There were all the requisite TV camera and even a satellite truck, etc.  I don't know what the protest was about, but the next block down, there is a big banner protesting the imprisonment of some political figure, so maybe that was it.  The market was fabulous!  All sorts of fresh fruit and vegetables, meat counters, flowers, spices, fish and caviar.  Everything was super nice and fresh.  Later today, we took Julia to St Michael's cathedral. (The scene of my earlier ejection for illegal photography).  We made it in and out safely, with no incidences, that is until we got out in front of the cathedral.  Think of the scary animal creature who assaulted me when Virginia was here, but this time it was a gang of bird people.  First one, than another, then a third.  They kept grabbing us, putting pigeons on our hands and head, took my Ipad to take pictures, and then the extortion began.  They wanted 200 hryvnia for taking our picture! ($25).  I said no way!  They were earnest.  I had visions of sitting in a cold Russian train car headed to the gulag.  I gave them a 50 hryvnia note, rounded up my girls and left, before they called the police (which are everywhere, by the way).  We walked up the road to take some pictures at St. Sophias, but then went home because it was getting cold quickly.  Svetlana talked to Julia today and told her the passport had been completed and should be ready to be picked up Thursday or Friday.  I am trying to find out what happens next.  I am learning, but still having trouble adjusting to, a Ukrainian trait.  They do one thing at a time.  They don't plan out the whole process.  They are so used to things changing, they just don't even bother thinking about tomorrow.  It is just today.  For those who know me, you may imagine how difficult this is for me patiently accept.  But I'm trying . . .