Over the last five years, the restaurant business has burgeoned in Kyiv. It started out with the three stand-bys of the old order: funky, extremely expensive imitations of high Continental style, smoke-filled soviet cafés – both of whom traditionally never had more than a few items out of their many-paged menus available – and dirt-cheap cafeterias. Today, there’s every kind of eatery: local, continental, international, ethnic, even the Golden Arches.
But drinking has always been a private sit-down affair in Ukraine, something you did with friends and family around a table laden with food, usually on some special occasion – but not necessarily. You could drink a fair bit and not get too stoned, because you were eating like a pig at the same time. But no self-respecting Ukrainian would ever go to a bar to nurse a drink in solitude while watching a bunch of men in helmets bash a ball around.
Nevertheless, the new economy and the influx of westerners have brought that phenomenon along as well. Several years ago, the first Irish-style pub opened its doors. Not long afterwards, a British-style pub opened its doors. And recently a third pub opened its doors, also in the style of the Green and Orange.
That first pub has turned into a pretty nice, homey place over the years, moving from its original basement to two floors and adding a pool room. A lot of people hang out there regularly, as they might in a neighborhood pub at home. People, Ukrainians and expats alike, flock there to watch the big screen games – football, cricket, basketball – whatever the season. They guzzle some beers, BS about this and that, occasionally notice the score and cheer or hiss, but mostly it’s an excuse to hang around and sing “Alice. Alice? Who the ---- is Alice?” Because it’s fun and because people can meet their friends there without making any plans.
The newest pub has got a ways to go yet. Atmosphere is something you don’t easily get overnight. In a restaurant, you can create an aura with decor and cuisine, but not in a pub. A pub has to be “lived in” to really have the right feeling, and “lived in” takes time. Regular customers make “lived in.”
The trouble is, someone doesn’t want to give this pub the time. Someone has managed to have this pub shut down two times since it opened its doors just a week after St. Patrick’s Day. One time it was for missing documents, the other time it was because of a complaint filed with City Hall.
Some of the neighbors say that the place is too noisy. Yet if you’re eating on the first floor inside the pub, you can barely tell there’s a live band in there, even if it’s loud enough to hurt when you go downstairs to check it out. Outside on the street, you can’t hear a thing, which is more than one can say for most cafés and some neighbors in Kyiv. Still, some people may be more sensitive than others on that one.
A letter that these neighbors wrote in early June to their alderman, a Mr. I. Dzvonyk, was signed by 19 residents of the building. This is normal practice. He turned around and wrote a letter to his boss, Mayor Omelchenko, and asked him to “do something about it.” That’s also normal practice.
And mostly what they complain about is the usual stuff that causes friction between public and private places in a mixed residential area: noise, exhaust from the kitchen, rowdy people in the streets. My favorite haunt in Vancouver, Rohans, a great dance and beer place, was finally shut down by its Kitsilano neighbors, who just didn’t like people having so much fun so loudly – although Rohans was in its own building, separated completely from its neighbors. These things happen. Sometimes the neighbors win; sometimes the public place wins.
But when you get to the end of the first paragraph in this complaint letter, something jumps out:
“The supply of hot and cold water has gotten worse during evening hours, because [the pub] has a pool and a sauna.”
A pool and a sauna? This pub may have a pool table , but swimming pools and saunas are not part of Irish pub decor, guys!
When you get to the third paragraph, something else jumps out:
“They are trying to buy out our apartments. For what purpose? Probably to have all-night entertainment and private parties.”
What, the pub’s moving into the brothel business? Sounds more like they’re hoping to buy off the most bothered of the residents. Somebody ought to tell those guys to take the offer while it’s hot, while they have the pub by the short hairs. In case they haven’t noticed, it’s not a seller’s market in Kyiv these days.
As to the last paragraph of their letter – well, even I was offended by it:
“Please protect the historic center of the City of Kiy from foreign invasion.”
Toss in a little friendly xenophobia for good measure, why don’t they? Other than being Irish in style and having a Welsh manager, this pub is almost 100% Ukrainian goods. It gives jobs to Ukrainians. Ukrainians go there to have a good time. Ukrainian musicians earn a living playing there. Ukrainian suppliers sell them goods and services. What “foreign invasion” are they talking about?
What bothers me most of all, though, is the rumor – it’s pretty hard to officially confirm something like this – that Mr. Dzvonyk is a part-owner of the first pub. Well, it’s not uncommon for officials of one kind or another to require a share in a business in return for favors or protection. If that’s true, Mr. Mayor, I think you ought to reprimand the guy. Next thing you know, Kyiv will be just like Chicago!
And if any of you expats don’t believe me, read some of the late Mike Royko’s columns. •
–from the notebooks of Pan O.
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