Down Among the Chandeliers

The quarter in California let go of us for winter break, and instead of a beach I chose a river that freezes. Kyiv receives you underground. The metro here runs so deep the escalator ride becomes a meditation, and then the doors open on marble, chandeliers, and a density of humanity that simply absorbs you. I stood with my bag between my boots, one hand on the rail, and let the current carry me toward Podil.

Palaces below, weather above: the Soviet metro logic, and nowhere executed with more conviction than here. Everyone around me wore the same December uniform of dark wool and endurance. I fit in completely, which in a new city is the fastest form of arrival.

Two weeks in this city, if the plan holds. The plan includes archives, a chapel, a monastery, and one trip north I have wanted to make for years and will not name until I have done it.