RC#8: Hot, Hotter & Hottest

published in Eastern Economist #383, June 4, 2001

Under the gavel

There was an event so exciting Friday that I forewent my usual foray into the VR dineteria and hailed a car to carry me off instead to L’vivska Ploshcha, where the lofty Kyiv Chamber of Commerce and Industry has its offices. It’s not a building whose post-soviet halls and elevators I frequently grace, but the opportunity to sniff Taisia Povaliy’s furs and try on Vlodya Klichko’s gloves was more than even my dignified soul could pass up. Alas, I barely made it in the door before the gavel fell and the crowd fell so silent you could hear the button pop on a portly gentleman’s vest in the front row. I was too late for sniffing or trying on, but not too late to relish watching Nouveaux-Ukrainiens bid a week’s ill-gotten gains on a pair of Serhiy Bubka’s faded nylon boxers or Yana Klochkova’s stretched-out Speedo. But I was due for disappointment. The first thing that was held up was a pair of very plain wire-rim glasses.

            “These,” the auctioneer intoned, “are a pair of historically significant eyeglasses.” Surely not Vladimir Illich’s, I thought, suddenly feeling a little thrill. This is REALLY worth missing lunch for.

            “These are the very pair of chrome-plated, wire-rimmed eyeglasses worn by a great leader of a great nation at the most historic meeting with the great leader of its nearest and greatest neighbor.” Doesn’t Switzerland separate Italy from Germany? I thought, feeling a little perplexed.

            “These glasses were worn by a great man on the memorable occasion of the signing of an agreement of independence.” I don’t recall that Jefferson went to England with the Declaration for George to sign, I mused, more confused than ever. I hadn’t managed to pick up a program sheet and the auctioneer was milking the moment for all it was worth.

            “THESE glasses… were worn by… the president of… Ukraine, …Leonid Makarovych Kravchuk, on the occasion of his momentous meeting with Boris Nikolayovich Yeltsin, president of Russia, when Ukraine officially signed its independence from Russia!” Oh, I thought, as the crowd began to shrill and clap. Somebody must be getting election fever to have arranged such an incredible plug. Bidding was a bit hairy, especially when some 18-inch neck leapt up, shouting “Why didn’t you tell me it was Makarovych and not Danylovych!!!” His neighbors quickly hauled him down and shushed him. Luckily, someone else had already raised the bid, but several other hands stayed in their laps after that and interest waned.

            I don’t remember the auction of Taisia’s fur, because I was too busy eyeing the silky sheen of nutria as a young lady pranced and twirled in it for the duration of the bidding. Needless to say it probably went for some indecent sum – at least enough to keep a lesser oblast in electricity for three days. Klichko’s gloves went to some nonentity who looked like he kept his nose in the encyclopedia most days – and most nights, too. It would have been so nice to just try on the gloves that trounced that other American Jefferson, I sighed.

            But the funnest thing of all that was auctioned off was the very first copy of the Constitution of Ukraine, which had been given to Leonid Danylovych Kuchma (not to be confused with Makarovych Kravchuk) by the director of the printing company on the occasion of the Constitution’s official release in 1996. There was a little dispute over whether the opening bid should be raised or lowered when the auctioneer noticed that its pages were still uncut.

Cool cops

Cops are really coming into their own in Ukraine these days. Not only do they no longer have to function as cashiers and custodians, collecting fines, permits and license plates on the spot – bribes excepted – , but now they get to not do so, dressed in the height of manly fashion. Kyiv, being the capital and feeling a little pressure to set the tone, has ordered some newly-designed uniforms from Mikhail Voronin, the peripatetic Ukrainian suit king. (American friends say Hong Kong still does it better.)
            Kharkiv has decided that even a Zhyguli cannot handle its potty streets and is trying a Heels on Wheels program. Beat cops have been issued mountain bikes in some of the city’s districts. The idea is to see how those work in the summer months and if all is well, maybe issue Bombardier snowmobiles for the winter season. The question is, how well can they outmaneuver a pack of dogs, seven potholes, and a krutiy Mercedes at the same time…

Frenzied farmer

A gentleman by the name of Serhiy Arkhipov came to Kyiv with a mission this week. The Mykolaiv farmer had several beefs under his belt: his car, his rye and his John Deere had all been seized by the sheriff and boy was he pissed! So much so, that he armed himself with a grenade, a pistol and a canister of gasoline and charged the offices of the Ag Policy Ministry, right to the desk of deputy minister Roman Schmidt, who tried in vain to point out to his hysterical visitor a notice on his desk: “The buck stops over there.”

            Recognizing a desperate situation, Schmidt reached into his drawer, telling Arkhipov, “If you calm down a teensy, meensy bit, I promise to share with you my VSOP Uzbek Mudrak Cognac. It’s better than Desna… or even Henessey,” and promptly hauled out a bottle in the shape of a sheep with the stopper in its mouth.

            The security guards that arrived on the scene just then burst into smiles and grabbed shot glasses too. Within three seconds, everybody was raising a toast to John Deere, friend to farmers everywhere – whoever he was. •

–from the notebooks of Pan O