The New Year Cometh

I haven't been updating this blog as often as I originally planned, but that's ok. I've kept up a slow but steady stream of updates during my time here in Ukraine. Since the year is about to end with a bang, and a new year is approaching like a zombie wooly mammoth, I figured it would be a good idea to do a short review of this last year.

Last year around this time, I had quit my job back in the US, and set about preparing myself to leave the country. I spent much of January and a good bit of February in a southern US state, selling, giving away, or just tossing most of the things that I've accumulated throughout my life. I initially gave myself about 3 weeks to do it, but ended up staying there for over a month, with that still not being enough time to wrap things up. I then went back to the state where I lived at the time (another southern US state), and spent the last week of my time in the US packing up and spending time with my parents.

In late February, I left the US and arrived in Ukraine, as you can read here. My flight over was a bit of an adventure, but only because I had never flown overseas before. I arrived in Ukraine, and started my first job, teaching English for a language school owned by an American.

I spent my first several months learning how to do my job, and met a few women, one of whom ended up becoming my first girlfriend here. My time with her was fun, albeit short, and we ended up parting ways after about a month. Still, she provided me with my first taste of the dating experience here in Ukraine. Not long after I parted ways with her, I started learning just how different Ukrainian women can be.

In the meantime, my job had not turned out to be quite the dream job I initially thought. I liked teaching just fine (and still do), but I didn't like working for the owner of the school, who was a habitual liar and scam artist. He ended up firing me from the school, but when things seemed to be at their bleakest, I was rescued by other, more honest people.

I started working at a new language school, and also continued to meet women, where I found out firsthand the dark side of coupling with women here. However, not long after, I ended up meeting several other women, one of which became my second girlfriend, and the other became my best friend here. If it wasn't for the latter's help, I would have had to go back to the US, or live in a cardboard box.

Thankfully, things became more stable for me again, and I was able to move into another apartment. Shortly after doing so, I met my third (not so temporary) girlfriend, who I am still with. Which brings me to now....

In less than two weeks, I'm leaving my current city for another, much larger city here in Ukraine. Unfortunately, while I've had my moments here, I've found it difficult to survive with the little amount of work that I've had. I was able to eke out a living for a while, but I'm tired of having to scrounge up every last kopek to pay rent. I accepted a job at a large chain language school in Ukraine, which is guaranteeing me a decent salary in a much larger city. I'm quite sad to leave my current city, but at the same time excited to finally go somewhere else. My girlfriend has made noises about following me to that city, as she has family there, but we'll see what happens. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the obligatory celebrating that comes with the new year.

Pimpin' It

Despite the title, this post isn't about me becoming a superfly pimp out here in the rundown ghetto of southern Ukraine. Instead, I'm pimping my mentor English Teacher X's book, "How to Survive Living Abroad" (click here for the Smashwords edition). For those of you who don't know who English Teacher X is...read his blog, and then buy his books. His blog was probably my biggest influence on becoming an English teacher, a profession that I am still currently enjoying. My blog posts, "Two Girls, One Night parts 1 and 2" are included in the book.

As an added incentive for my readers, I added a postscript to the story, which adds a few details to the story that didn't make it into my original posts, and shows the eventual fate of the girls involved. The book is currently free on both Amazon and Smashwords, so there's no excuse to not check it out.

In other news, the Temporary Girlfriend has turned out to be not as temporary as I thought. Also, I might move to another city in Ukraine. More on that soon.

Update

Just a quick post, as I feel I've been neglecting this blog too much. Things haven't changed much since I last updated. The Temporary Girlfriend is still here, although she is supposed to leave in less than a week. We'll see if she actually does. In the meantime, I've spent most of my time either working or with her. I'll probably have more to post on both of those subjects, but for now, just rest assured that I'm still alive and well. For how long that will remain, I'm not sure, but things are still "OK" at the moment.

Attack of the Crazy

Last week, I was supposed to go to Vinnitsa to meet a "friend" who I knew back in the US. My "friend" was actually a Polish/Ukrainian girl who I dated several years ago. Our dating relationship was kinda brief, as she quickly started to prove that she was a major headcase. However, even after I ended the brief and not very serious relationship, I did meet up with her a few times after. Not for sex, as we never quite made it that far, but to hang out, and to try to pick up a bit of Russian from her.

Shortly before I left for Ukraine, she went on a major campaign of trying to get me to stay. Of course, this proved to be futile, as I wasn't about to be talked out of it by anyone, least of all her. Shortly after I came out here, she called my parents and tried convincing them that I was in danger out here, and spouting off some other crazy things like saying that someone back in the US was trying to kill me. She did make my parents worried, but only in that they thought I would be crazy to keep talking to her. I emailed her and told her to never call my parents again.

Even after all that, though, I agreed to meet up with her when she came out to Ukraine. Her home town is in western Ukraine, so a long bus trip would have awaited me. Two days before I was supposed to go see her, I informed her that I was dating a girl here, and I was hesitant about going to see her, based on past history. This set off the histrionics. She accused me of hurting her by not going to see her, called me every name in the book, with her voice getting that crazy tinge to it that usually spells imminent danger. I hung up on her and didn't answer any more of her calls. That set off a flood of text messages that continued unabated until she left, presumably sometime today.

Since I'm a complete asshole, I decided to share many of these text messages with my readers. Let these serve as a lesson to you all - never stick it in teh crazy! Just imagine how much worse it would be if I actually had.


"Enjoy local sluts,baby boy! She will go to Istanbul and start a "consumation" career, asking Turks topless to buy her drinks and you'd better go to the local KozhVenDispanser,get checked for syphilis and gonorrhea! Adios gringos"

"Good evening ****achka! Is your girlie entertaing rich Turks already?"

" ****ka - moj amerikanec,ja tozhe amerikanka i imeju gorazdo bolshe prav,i ne tolko na **** ! Ukrainskie devushki nujny emu kak razvlechenie,povysit samoocenku ;) "

 "Hi ****,you know - you are very mean,heartless and cruel. We made plans to meet long before I came to the Ukraine. You hurt me real bad and I dont deserve it!Never expected that of you, how mean and two-faced you are. Why hurt me so bad???"

"Hows your Turkish Delight doing, ****? Thank you very much for how bad,mean and cruel you have been to me during this trip and breaking our plans"

" **** the Traitor double dater. Girlie is practicing her future job in Istanbul on you - Istanbul Constantinopol goddammit that shit to fucking hell" 

The Temporary Girlfriend

I currently have a temporary girlfriend. Her name is "N" (thankfully not yet another "Z"), and she lives one building away from me. I met her the same way I've been meeting all of the other girls here, through a popular online dating site.

"N" doesn't speak much English, and I don't speak much Russian, but that hasn't stopped anything. I met her only a day after talking to her online, deciding to meet in between our two apartment buildings. As per the norm, she initially refused to go to my apartment, but quickly relented once it was clear that we would have trouble communicating with speech only, and even then, only after making me promise not to put my hands all over her. Needless to say, I ended up putting my hands all over her, but only after a full bottle of cognac later. However, she didn't give in to sex all that easily, and made me wait more than a week for it.

She came over again two nights later, and then the next, and the next...and she's been over every night since, about two weeks later. We hit it off pretty quickly, and our personalities match. She has a great sense of humor, loves spending time with me, and has even cooked dinner for me several times.

So...why is she a "temporary" girlfriend? Because there's a catch (just like with every other girl here). She's leaving for Istanbul in a couple of weeks for work, and will be there for a long time. She doesn't know the exact date yet, and is going to work for a boss who wants her to marry him (typical Turkish clown). I joined in the chorus of all of her friends and family in warning her that she risks being sold into sex slavery, but she says she needs the job to pay off some rather large medical bills. I believe her story, despite the fact that Ukrainian women are generally not to be trusted to tell the truth about anything. Despite all of that, though, I'm thoroughly enjoying my time with her.

For Great Force

Saturday was another day spent with the boss, this time at the birthday part for his friend's wife, who has seemingly taken quite a liking to me (no, not like that). Birthday parties in Ukraine are quite fun, involving a metric ton of food and alcohol, both of which are to be consumed in great quantities, with the only interruptions being smoke breaks and the quite frequent toasts by each of the guests.

After only about 4 hours of non-stop eating and boozing, I informed everyone that I had to leave soon, as I was meeting a girl that evening. This quickly became the number one subject of conversation at the table, with everyone commenting and asking questions about her. Of course, this all resulted in yet another toast, made for me. The guy sitting next to me, a Ukrainian Militsiya (Police) Colonel, cautioned me on being careful with meeting random Ukrainian women, disregarding the fact that I had already met this girl and spent a quite harmless night with her. However, his toast to me was the phrase (translated from Russian), "For great force". My boss translated the phrase for me, and explained that sexual prowess and virility is referred to as "force". So...here's for great force!

Ukrainian Housewarming

I just moved into my new apartment a few days ago, and I was giving a proper Ukrainian housewarming. My boss, the owner of the small English school that I teach at now, helped me bring my stuff over, and also made a point of picking up a few housewarming presents, namely some food (sizeable chunks of ham and cheese, and Georgian bread) and alcohol (Georgian cognac). We spent the evening hanging out on the balcony of my ninth floor flat, eating and drinking while bullshitting about various things and looking out at the river. I have a great view of the river here, as I live only about 400 meters away from it, with no buildings in between. Later, after we finished, he took me on a short nightime tour of some close-by places, ending in a bar while trying some Becherovka. My boss made plans for me for the next day, to show me around more of the district during daylight. Of course, I wasn't about to say no.

So, the next day, after classes, we met up with a friend of his, a retired police officer, and took a long walk around the district. We made a pit-stop in the same bar as the night before, grabbing another shot of Becherovka, and then continued on. The tour ended at his flat, where his wife proceeded to serve me some delicious borscht while informing me that there was a wedding party with some single women who were looking forward to meeting me. I had already double-booked myself for dates that evening, but figured that visiting a party wouldn't hurt, so off we went after finishing the meal, along with another shot of home-made spiced vodka.

The wedding party was at a local pizzeria not far from my boss's flat, and sure enough, there were a couple of cute, single girls there. My boss's wife warned me before that they both like to drink, and were a little drunk, but they appeared quite sober when I met them. We spent a great part of the rest of the day at the pizzeria, where we made repeated toasts along with shouts of "Vorka! Vorka!", which apparently is a tradition that involves the guests exhorting the bride and groom to kiss repeatedly. Many of the participants were indulging themselves in vodka, but I stuck to weak Ukrainian beer, as I'd already had a few shots of hard alcohol earlier, and I'm a fucking lightweight.

Unfortunately, the beer didn't really help. Minutes passed into hours, and day passed into evening. I didn't really forget about the two dates I booked, but I was having too good of a time to really care. I made it home pretty late, with the help of my boss's friend and his wife, who proceeded to invite me to her birthday party next weekend. I went up to my flat and immediately got online and proceeded to apologize to both of the women who I stood up. Surprisingly, neither of them were very angry, at least as far as I could tell. One of them evening made the comment, "So this - typical Slavic housewarming!" I guess she was right. I hope I don't have to move again anytime soon.

An Ode to the Marshrutka

The marshrutka, for those of you who don't know and are too lazy to click on the link, is a short bus (somewhat similar in size to the "short school bus") that serves as the main means of intra-city public transportation here in Ukraine. They account for roughly a third of all vehicles that are seen on the roads here in my city. Up until a couple of months ago, I rarely set foot on one, and even then only with someone local who knew exactly where it would go. However, once I started dating my previous girlfriend, I used them quite often to go to her house, as taking a taxi every time was getting to be cost prohibitive. After moving out of my own flat located in the city center, though, they quickly became my means of going anywhere that was too far away to be a short walk, including to work.

Anyone who lives in the United States will be in for a bit of a shock the first time they board a marshrutka, and I was no exception. The small size of the marshrutka actually belies the amount of space on the inside. It's almost like stepping into the Tardis, except not quite as profound of a difference, and without all of flair, such as time traveling capabilities. However, once inside, you'll quickly find out that no matter how much space it seems to have, it's never quite enough, especially during the busy times of the day, or late at night, when only a few marshrutki are out and about.

The seats are laid out quite the same in all marshrutki (plural form of marshrutka), regardless of the type of vehicle. Most marshrutki have around 15 or 16 seats inside. Two seats in the left row, and one seat in the right, with the aisle in between. The windows are large and copious, and the seats can vary, ranging from comfortable and roomy, to cramped and torturous. Many marshrutki have a small baggage rack about the left row, and all have some kind of hand-bar that runs almost the full length of the passenger bay for the inevitable overflow passengers. Some marshrutki will even have passenger-side seats available in the driver compartment. The entry door for all passengers is on the left side of the vehicle.

Not all marshrutki here in my city have the same fare, but the average fare is about 2 gryvna (25 cents US). The fare will vary, often depending on the total length of the bus route, but most often you will pay about 2 gryvna. The fare is usually payed to the driver, who is most often quite adept at dishing out change while driving, although some marshrutki will include a second person whose job is to manage the fare. The marshrutki that run late at night will often have a security guard on board. Many people will pay the fare not immediately on entrance, but once they take their seat. They will then pass their fare on to the person in front of them, and it will be passed on in this manner until it reaches the driver, who will in turn dish out the change in the reverse order. Most people seem pretty honest about this process. I've never seen anyone try to skimp on the fare or keep someone else's change, although I wouldn't be surprised if it does happen.

As mentioned before, all of the space inside of a marshrutka is often not enough. When all of the seats are filled, passengers will still board at stops, and will stand in the aisle while holding onto the hand-bar up above. Sometimes it can get crowded enough to where people are packed in like sardines. The aisle, of course, is not very wide, and someone having to go from the back of the marshrutka to the front will have to push and squeeze their way through. Although some marshrutki do have doors in the back, most do not. Standing in the aisle, squeezed up between an old crabby babushka and a drunk gopnik while holding onto anything solid for dear life as the driver recklessly weaves through rush hour traffic is not a pleasant experience, but fortunately, this doesn't describe the majority of my times on a marshrutka.

I've come to generally enjoy my time on a marshrutka, as the frequent stops that it makes along its route, along with the inevitable logjam of marshrutki trying to jockey for position at the stops, usually means that I'm going to be on it for a while, regardless of how far I'm going. It's usually a good time to catch the sights of passing beautiful women while relaxing. Of course, how much relaxing I'm able to do when a bus with 15 seats is holding more than 30 people won't be that much, but still, it can be a fun experience.

So...here's to the glorious marshrutka, one of the many things that makes my time in Ukraine an interesting experience.

A Long Time Coming...

I just noticed it's been exactly a month since my last blog entry. Um...sorry about that. I've been a bit busy. I have lots to talk about, but little that I want to go into in-depth right now. I'll just give a short summary of the last month, complete with bullet points.

- I broke up with my girlfriend several weeks ago. I thought for sure this relationship would last longer than the first one, but alas, fate had other plans for me. After dealing with her changing her mind about shit constantly, her drinking problem, her (supposedly) past drug problem, and the fact that her favorite past-time became criticizing my every last fucking fault, I got tired of her shit and sent her packing. A couple of weeks after doing so, I tried to make amends and give it another go, but that lasted all of a day before I suddenly remembered why I dumped her in the first place. I'm not thrilled about it still, but every time the sadness comes creeping back, all I have to do is remember shit like her making plans with me to go to the beach, then canceling at the last second to smoke pot with her brother. At least she didn't aske me for money...oh wait, she did. Twice. Good fucking riddance.

- I'm now officially homeless. However, this doesn't mean that I'm living in a cardboard box and sleeping on puke-covered mattresses. I'm staying with a (girl) friend until I find a cheaper apartment. However, this process has been going slow enough to the point where I'm wondering if my friend really wants me to leave.

- I'm broke, but the end of being broke is in sight. With summer winding down, I'm starting to get more students, slowly but surely, and classes seem to be picking up a little at the school. Hopefully by this time next month, things will be in full swing. Hopefully.

- I got a nasty sunburn, thanks to a new girl I met taking the opportunity to go with me to the beach on my birthday. The burn is mostly gone now, and most of what's left are layers of peeling skin, but it's nice to be able to walk without being in constant agony.

That's all for now. I'll write more later.

Things I've Seen in Ukraine...

Here's a random list of strange, interesting, and perhaps even not-so-interesting things I've seen here, most of which I haven't mentioned yet. These are in no particular order. I'll probably create a follow-up post sometime down the road when I've seen more crazy and fucked up things.

...groups of "gopniki" walking around...everywhere.

...Ukrainain "militsiya" (police) beating the shit out of some random hoodlum at 3am.

...an old, senile babushka dropping her panties and taking a piss on the street, in full view of young children.

...50+ year old American men, walking arm-in-arm with young 20-something year old hotties, out on the main central street.

...some random homeless guy with blood gushing from his head, walking around as if everything was normal.

...a toothless old drunk trying to ask me for a cigarette in Russian, while I pretended to not understand anything he said. He wasn't convinced, and didn't give up on it easily.

...random older Ukrainian men proposition every girl they see for sex in exchange for money.

...plenty of deathly, evil stares from before stated "gopniki".

...just about every female student of mine asking if I have a girlfriend...even the married ones.

...my life flash before my eyes as a random marshrutka ran a red light, doing something north of 60km/h and missing me by a mere 6 inches while I crossed the road on the way to work.

...a female friend of mine telling me we won't have sex since I now have a girlfriend, and then a few seconds later pulling my cock out of my boxers to go to town on it with her mouth, while her best friend (female) sat and watched just a few feet away from us.

Ok, it looks like I lied in a previous blog entry. To my credit, though, I didn't have sex with her, and didn't even finish in her mouth. That's gotta count for something, right?

My 4th of July

I just read this blog post over at the Return of Kings site, and it inspired me to write about my own 4th of July.

My July 4th was pretty similiar, with only a few exceptions. My girlfriend invited me over to her flat the night before, cooked me Green Borscht while I sat in the kitchen, smoking and downing shots of cognac while watching her cook. After dinner, she washed all of the dishes, again while I watched. We then went to her bedroom, where we went several rounds of some incredible, mind-blowing sex. We took a shower together afterward, where she gave my body a thorough washing, and we sat in her living room while smoking, drinking, and talking. We had even more incredible sex before finally going to sleep.

The day of July 4th, she cooked me lunch; this time, Ukrainian "galubtsi", which we downed with more cognac and beer. We had even more incredible, mind-blowing sex before I left her apartment and went home, I considered calling one of my secondary girls for some more fun that evening, but was simply too drained from all of the incredible sex that my girlfriend gave me, while sitting fat and happy, stuffed with incredible food that she cooked for me. It was the best 4th of July I ever had, and my first that didn't take place in the US. Happy birthday, America...

A Tale of Two Zs

I haven't posted much within the last month. Sorry about that. Real life has gotten in the way, though. And what I mean by real life, is dealing with women. I really didn't mean this blog to turn into a recording of my sexual exploits, but that's what it's turned out to be. This shouldn't be surprise to anyone, considering why most men come to Ukraine to begin with.

As anyone who has been reading this blog frequently should recall, my first girlfriend here was named Z. The next two most serious women that came along are named...well, Z also. While Slavic women don't tend to have many variations in names, I didn't think that this particular name would be my "lucky number".

I met Z2 in the normal way that I meet women here: on an online dating site. We talked for a while, but couldn't manage to meet, as she was busy going on vacations and work related assignments (she's a well known journalist in my city). After about a month or so of talking, we managed to meet up several times, and she made my stay here a lot more interesting.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. "How can any one woman make your stay more interesting?" No, it wasn't due to her being good in the sack (actually, she's just ok, which honestly isn't saying much, considering my experience here so far). She actually managed to show me around quite a bit of the city, particularly several historical sites. Being an ardent student of history, that caught my intention.

What also helped was the fact that she's a fan of a certain British sci-fi show, and that she knows English fairly well. We spent plenty of nights holed up in my flat, watching episode after episode of this very long running series. While we were both realling digging each other, and had plenty in common, something was still off regarding wanting to go long term with her. We both eventually decided to remain as friends.

So, enter Z3. She's a Ukrainian born half-gypsy artist, who lived in Spain for 6 years and just recently returned home. I met her in the standard way, and met her in person pretty quickly. With her, there was instant chemistry. Her English isn't very good, but she knows some, and actually speaks Spanish very well. We communicate in what has become a pretty unique mixture of English, Spanish, and Russian.

I only met her a week ago, and we've already become a constant fixture to each other. There's definitely more chemistry with her than anyone else I've met here, and it looks like my stories of sexual exploits are going to be on hold. At least for a while...

Two Girls, One Night ( Part 2)

Y was late, which didn't surprise me in the least. On the phone earlier, she told me she was only going to stick around until around 3am, when the next bus heading towards the beach resort that she worked at was leaving. She was insistent on drinking some beer, so I got some from the local kiosk, and we went back to the apartment.

The first night that Y had come over, as I stated in my previous post, she had tried to get me to massively overpay for her cab fare. She had spent a few hours at my place, just drinking coffee, and we engaged in some light making out, but that's as far as everything went. She is a mid-20's Ukrainian girl with a nice body and a beautiful face, an absolute stunner. Probably one of the prettiest girls that I've seen here, and that's saying alot.

However, I also knew that she was a scammer. My previous boss had a side business of offering advice to Western men who come to Ukraine looking for a wife, and also did such things as doing background checks on women. Y had been a former student at the school, and my boss had actually told me about her before, saying that she was a lazy student and he was glad that she never returned to the school. During our first meeting, Y had ranted about him, saying she didn't like him, and didn't want to deal with him again. However, she was quite proud of the fact that he had her on a list of known scammers in the city.

Y and I sat for a while drinking beer, with our attempts to listen to music frequently interrupted by her constantly ringing phone, which seems to be a trait that is inherit in their DNA. I have yet to meet up with a girl here without her fielding at least two different calls during the meeting/date/fuck session.

Y complained that she was tired and not feeling well after a while, and I suggested that she lie down for a bit. She immediately took me up on the offer, and requested that I join her, which I did without hesitation.

"Are you going to be a gentleman?" she queried.

"No." I replied, honestly.

"Good. I don't like gentlemen", she responded in her thick Russian accent.

We both wasted no time getting down to business. Thankfully, my libido was functioning a bit better than earlier in the evening, and our tryst was a resounding success.

After violating her in every orifice possible (at her request, in fact), she promptly dressed and indicated that she wanted to leave. I was a little perplexed, as she still had about 2 hours until her bus, but I complied, and dressed as well. We both went into the front hallway of my flat, which is where she popped the big question.

"I need some money", she said, sheepishly.

"Um....how much?"

"100 gryvna."

The question caught me a bit by surprise, but considering that 100 gryvna isn't that much money (around $12US), I decided it wasn't a problem, and gave it to her. Her face had a bewildered look on it as I handed her the two 50 gryvna notes.

"No! I need more than this!" she exclaimed, much less sheepishly.

"What? How much?" I replied in an exasperated manner.

"I need this much", she said, and with her fingers indicated 1,000 gryvna.

"What?? Are you out of your fucking mind?" I replied, just a bit beyond exasperated.

"But, this is so little money! I need food for the trip, and I need to buy new shorts!"

After another 5 minutes of listening to her give me every classic excuse in the book as to why she needed so much money, I ended up giving her 500 gryvna just to shut her up and get her out of the flat.

I spent the rest of the night and all of the next day feeling like a complete fool. Actually, that's not right. I still feel like one. She has tried inviting herself over to my apartment again several times since, but I've promptly refused both times. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me" is a saying that I've tired to live by. But really, I should have known better from the beginning. A leopard can't change its spots.

Two Girls, One Night (Part 1)

My last post was highly optimistic. This post isn't. Which may be why it's taken me so long to post it.

A few weeks back, i started seeing a girl, who we'll call "L". "L" is an early-30's village girl who works in my city during the week, but then goes back home to her village on the weekends. I met with her for the first time one day, and cut the meeting short as I had another date lined up for immediately after. However, during that short date, she managed to invite herself over to my flat the next evening.

She came over the next evening, then the evening after, and then again the evening after. She told me quite a bit about herself, such as that she has a 12 year old daughter back in her village, was never married, and hadn't had sex since her daughter was born. I found the last bit very hard to believe, knowing what I know of the girls here in Ukraine. She also showed me all of her friends on Odnoklassniki (a Russian social network, for those who don't know), with the first being some guy who she said was her best friend since childhood. She also went out of her way to say that she was very good friends with the guy's wife as well. I knew this meant a sign of trouble.

The second night she was over at my flat, we ended up engaging in some heavy making out. We were both ready to go, except for one small problem: I was out of condoms. We both decided to pick up where we left off the next night, which would be her last night in town before the weekend.

After she left for the evening, I noticed that she left her Odnoklassniki profile open on my computer. Not only that, but she left it up right on her private conversation with the guy who is her "best friend". The immediate thought of signing out of the browser so as not to snoop on her quickly dissipated as I noticed a few key words in Russian that usually spell "trouble", especially when the conversation is with a guy. Anyone who knows Cyrillic can easily spot the word "sex".

I ended up reading through the whole conversation chain, with the help of Google Translate. To make a long story short, her whole story about her sex life and relationship with the guy was blown right out the window. They quite freely talked about their ongoing sexual relationship, how he got her pregnant a few years ago and then paid for her abortion, and even her desperate pleas for sex from him just a day prior to our first meeting.

She came back over the next night with a terrified look on her face. The first thing she asked me is if I had snooped through her private convos on the site, as she realized she hadn't logged out of the site before she left the previous evening. I quickly brushed off the question with a vague non-answer and started getting down to business, as I had picked up some condoms earlier in the day.

The evening past that point became pretty interesting. Shortly after she arrived, my phone started ringing from an unknown number. I usually don't answer calls from unknown numbers, especially when I have a girl over, as it usually means it's a girl I've talked to or met before. However, the ringing wouldn't stop, and "L" became pretty suspicious, and demanded that I asnwered the phone. I finally relented, and found out that it was a girl named "Y".

I met "Y" a while back, shortly after having met "Z", the girl I dated for a month or so. "Y" was a professional dancer at a nightclub on a beach resort in southern Ukraine, and was also a well-known scammer who preyed on Western men who come here looking for a wife. She had come over one evening for coffee, after trying to get me to pay 300 gryvna (around $36US) for her cab fare from her village. I laughed that off, knowing the cab fare was wasn't nearly so much, and ended up giving her about half of it. She promised to come back over the next day and stay the night after taking me around town, but ended up standing me up. About a week and a half prior to this story, she met up with me at a local restaurant and apologized for standing me up, so she was temporarily back in my good graces.

"What are you doing?", asked Y in Russian.

"Nothing", I replied.

"I want to meet tonight", she said, again in Russian.

"No, I can't, I'm busy", I replied in English.

"What? How? Do you have a girl over?" asked Y, again in Russian.

"Um....yes", I replied.

"Well, get rid of her! I'll be over at 10!" replied Y, and hung up.

L immediately asked me who it was, and what the conversation was about (she didn't speak any English). I informed her that it was a girl that I didn't want to see, and then we proceeded to pick up where we left off the previous night.

However, after having found out what I did, I wasn't nearly as much in the mood this next night. The only reason I wanted to proceed was because I was insistent on ending my mini-dry spell that began after the redhead. With this being the case, our attempts at intercourse were only moderately successful. After fumbling around for a bit and having trouble with keeping it in, we gave up and L decided to go home. Thankfully, this all happened with plenty of time left before Y would be showing up.

Naturally, Y was late, but I didn't much mind. I needed time to clean up the flat and remove as much evidence as possible of what had just happened there. Why I did this, I'm not sure, as Y already knew I had a girl over. But, I also wanted to make sure that I was going to be able to fully function, as my disgust with L had left my libido a bit uncooperative.

To Be Continued...

Whirlwind, Part 2

I had been here in Ukraine for 90 days, and things weren't looking too good so far.

I was fired from my job, short on money, and stressed about how I'd be able to stay here past my expiration date. I didn't really have many friends here, and needless to say, I was a bit stressed.

About a month or so prior, another American expat who lives in the same city had gotten into an argument with my now former boss on a message board. The guy's style of writing and obvious naivety in engaging in online squabbles led me to believe he was just another quack. He had previously worked at the same school, although several years prior, and apparently received the same kind of send-off as I did. Many of the statements he posted about my now former boss, rang true, though. I decided to message him and see if he had any advice for me.

We met a week ago, two days after I was fired from my job. We went to a local cafe and talked about my experiences here, and he offered his advice. He then took me to meet a good friend of his, who happened to be my now former boss's former business partner. I spent much of the day talking to them, relating my experiences as well as everything my former boss had told me about them. They assured me that my former boss was full of shit (as I suspected), and by the end of the day, I had a new job and no stress about being here illegally.

My former boss had flipped his story around. He said that his former business partner tried to extort money from him. The former business partner told me that it was the other way around, that my former boss kept trying to take more and more of the income from the school. Knowing what I know now, I'm much more inclined to believe the latter.

I also met with the owner of another school, the one that my former boss said ran a prostitution ring. He cleared the air for me on many things as well, and confirmed everything that my new boss told me. Even though their two schools are competitors, they do share in a level of cooperation with each other, and I'm now teaching classes at both schools.

So here I am, a week later, feeling much better about my chances here, and already making more money than I made after 3 months at my former job. I was also even paid all of the money owed to me by my former employer. I know I'm extremely lucky to have received that money, so I don't want to push my luck much more. My future in Ukraine is looking much brighter now.

Whirlwind, Part 1

I was fired from my job last weekend, and I'm very happy about it.

You see, I wasn't very happy with my job. The school I was working at is owned by an American (well, technically by his wife, but everyone knows who runs the show there), and I didn't much like working for him. He had a nice school office with plenty of room and a wealth of teaching tools. The teachers he hired were all good, effective teachers, and he ran a tight ship. The problem was that he treated his employees like shit, and tried to get free work out of them.

It only took about two weeks to figure out he was full of shit on quite a few things he had told me prior to arriving. However, being brand new in a foreign country, and being a bit scared to forge my own path at that time, I hung on and stuck it out, determined to make the best of the situation and do what I had worked so hard to prepare for the last several years. 

During the time I was there, I heard many stories about his time in Ukraine (and before). In fact, I probably spent a good amount of time here just listening to him talk. He's one of those "self-made" men, or at least he likes people to believe so. He was apparently an entrepeneur back in the US, who one day decided to leave everything behind and move to Ukraine, just to be with a woman he met on a marriage agency site. They're still together, and in fact, the school is named after her.

He told me quite a few stories about the people he worked with and met here, with very few of those stories being positive. He said his last business partner (in Ukraine) tried to extort money from him. He also said one of the other guys at that business (who now owns another school in the same city) ran a prostitution ring. And he said that every single Western expat he met here was mentally ill. I can't really debate him on the last one, but I have to mention that he is certainly no exception to the rule.

Anyway, his idea of training me was making me sit in on class after class after class, listening to him teach and then trying to teach myself. When I taught while he was sitting in, he was sure to stop me every 2 minutes and then rant and rave about how shitty of a teacher I am. Well, he ended up giving me students of my own, but they were few and far between, and after 3 months, I was still required to sit in and listen to classes, despite getting much more experience from my own classes.

I also found out that his school wasn't quite as successful as he had led me to believe. Shortly after arrival, I found out that they were about a month behind on their rent for the office. About once a week, the landlord would come in, and I would get to see the owner drop everything he was doing (even in the middle of a class) to scramble up some money. He also asked me several times to borrow money. The first time he paid me back very quickly. I have yet to be paid back for the second time.

About halfway through the time that I've been here, another American showed up, with the same hopes. I wasted no time in letting the new guy know what he was in for, and after he witnessed many of the things I told him, he quit after just a week and a half. Despite all of this, though, I kept sticking it out, although mainly for the fact that the owner still owed me money.

Everything pretty much came to a head last weekend. In Ukraine, it's illegal for anyone to stay over 90 days without a visa of some sort. The problem is, it's almost impossible for most people to get visas, so the majority of expats who have been here for any amount of time longer than 90 days are here illegally. As bad as that sounds, though, it's pretty much the normal for most everything here.

Last weekend, the owner of the school was supposed to help me with one of those illegal work-arounds. I was supposed to travel to the border and see a certain border agent who only worked on certain days, who would update the stamp in my passport and change the computer records for my stay. The problem, though, was that I needed someone to come with me who could translate, as the border guard doesn't speak English. Unfortunately, all of these details hadn't been made known to me until about week before it was supposed to happen, despite having asked the owner about it several times before I arrived, with reassurances that we would cross that bridge when we got to it.

Well, we got to that bridge, and the owner suddenly became very uncooperative. Apparently it was my own fault that I hadn't met a women who I was close enough with to go with me to the border, even though I didn't know this would be a necessity. It was my fault for not saying something sooner, and my fault for not asking for details (even though I did). When I politely informed him that I did in fact ask for details several times BEFORE I EVEN ARRIVED, he flew into a rage and kicked me out of the school.

Now there I was, without a job, without a passport stamp, and without help of any kind. The owner of the school still owed me money, which I didn't expect to see past that point. What was I to do? Well, I'd find out pretty quickly.

More to come later...

Welcome to Ukraine

Sundays are usually good days for me, as that is my one full day off from work. Unfortunately, last Sunday was not. Sometime on Saturday evening, one of the water pipes in my fourth floor flat decided to start leaking, with little visible evidence in my apartment outside of a little water in the bathroom floor. It wasn't very much water, so I was sure that it was just some water that escaped the confines of the shower while I was taking one. I was sorely mistaken.

Sunday afternoon, the people in the flat below mine came pounding on my door. Apparently, they had just returned home from spending the holidays out of town, and found their kitchen flooded. They were certain to show me what happened, and then proceeded to scour my own flat looking for the cause of the issue. After a while, we discovered that the pipe that was leaking was located underneath my kitchen sink, and apparently almost all of the water was escaping my own flat through a hole in the wall, which is why I never noticed it.

After calling my landlord and having someone come over to fix it, we got the problem resolved, but it sure wasn't fun having to deal with all of this on my Sunday.

Day of Victory

I was supposed to meet up with a girl I had been talking to today, but she stood me up. The problem was that we didn't agree on a particular time, and apparently she showed up earlier than I intended, and left after 5 minutes, just before I arrived at the specified meeting place (or so she said). She said we'd meet up later, but I didn't hear from her again.

Later in the evening, I met up with another girl, and had a great time with her, stopping at a cafe for coffee, walking around the park by the river, and then watching fireworks with her for the Day of Victory celebration. We have another date planned for this weekend to go to a rock club that she told me about. Not a bad date at all.

After I got home, I saw the first girl I was supposed to meet on Skype, and messaged her. She promptly informed me that she saw me out on the street, walking with the other girl. No big deal, right? Wrong. She read me the riot act, and then immediately deleted me from Skype.

Just too goddamn funny.

Not Kissed by Fire

This one was quite strange.

Late last Friday evening, I was trying to find something to do. Normally, if I'm too bored, I'll go talk a walk down the main street, maybe catch some sights, enjoying the passing beauties, but I was feeling lazy. I stayed in an perused the Russian personals sight, trying to see if any of the girls I had pipelined on here were particularly bored.

A girl named "O" obviously fit the bill. I just started talking to her a couple of days prior, and blew her off the previous evening when I decided to meet up with a friend. This night, however, would work perfect. The doldrums from breaking up with "The Girl", who will from now on be referred to as "Z", were coming to an abrupt end, and I was ready for action.

She wanted white wine, and I wanted company, so I went and got some. The girl at the store, who of course didn't speak English, put up with my bad Russian and showed me two types. I couldn't decide between them, so I bought them both, as they were cheap. O then insisted on me paying the cab fare, and I assured her that I new what the fare was. 20 minutes later, she arrived.

I knew something was different about her right away. She was wearing a strange dress that seemed more convenient for removing in a hurry than for comfort or looks. Her hair was a light red, and frizzled out to where she more resembled a clown than a typical hot Ukrainian devushka. Her body, however, was right up my alley. Large and perky breasts, skinny waist, and shapely ass, all slightly thicker than many of the average slim hotties walking around the street, but enough to make any male salivate. She looked like the actress that plays Ygritte in "Game of Thrones", except with a prettier face.

She informed me right away that she wasn't looking for anything serious, and kinda confirmed it after seeing one of my conversations on VK with another girl who I would meet the next night, and shrugged it off like no big deal. She also wasn't the greatest conversationalist. preferring to bury her face in my computer while drinking wine and listening to Russian music, which she really enjoyed. She occassionally interrupted it while telling me about Lviv and how I should travel there with her later in the month. It's worth considering.

Around 2am, she decided that she was hungry, and insisted that I go to McDonald's for a cheeseburger. She also insisted that I be quick about it, as she was getting tired. I wasn't too happy with this necessity, but figured I'd grab some food for myself as well. I quickly walked to McDonald's only to find out that only the drive-through was open, so I went back and hit up a street vender close to my flat that had some food, and scored several hot dogs. Thankfully, she was happy with this choice, and proceeded to wolf it down about as quickly as I ate mine.

Having polished off both bottles of wine and with food in the stomach, we both decided it was time for bed. I asked her if she was staying the night. She said she didn't know yet. I made a quick trip to the kitchen for a cig (she informed me she hated smoking) and came back into the room to find her under the covers in my bed, with her dress hanging on a chair nearby.

"I can't sleep well with another person in the same bed," she informed me, and I proceeded to take a pillow and sheet on the bed. She made some noises about not wanting me to expect something from her in bed. She also didn't want the curtains separating the bed from the rest of the living room closed, so I left them open and then undressed to my boxers, ready to make a night of it on the couch.

"I don't want to sleep alone," she suddenly cried out, just as I was about to turn off the light and lie down on the couch. Ok, fine, I thought, thinking I was in for a long night of blue balls. I turned off the light and climbed into bed with her, wondering how much sleep I was going to get.

As it turned out, I got hardly any. She wasted no time in thrusting her ass into my crotch, making it known that she wanted to spoon. That eventually turned to her throwing the blanket over me, so the spooning was under it, not through it. After a while of her subtle hints, I decided I was tired of the games and let my hands freely roam. I'm sure most people can guess where this led. The only words uttered the rest of the night were her asking me in broken English if I had a condom. I had one left, and used it with a mixture of pride and contempt.

Before I knew it, it was 7am and quite bright outside. I hadn't slept a wink, and the girl decided she wanted to go home to get some sleep. I was glad to see her go. The stupid bitch let me do everything to her that I wanted. Except kiss her.

The Girl, Part 3

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

I was pretty much seeing her exclusively during this time. I did meet up with a couple of other girls, but of course nothing came of any of them. Meanwhile, the girl was wanting to move things along pretty quickly. She started dropping the "L" word in no time at all, spent quite a bit of time at my flat, and even dropped hints of marriage and starting a family.

I, of course, wasn't quite ready to commit to such things. However, Ukrainian women have a way of getting their hooks into you. Really, it doesn't take much to keep me happy. Keeping the food and the sex flowing freely was having its effect on me, and before long, I started dropping the "L" word back to her (yeah, I know, shame on me).

Apparently, good things come in small doses. Just as quick as it all started, it ended. She started talking less and less, and her visits become much more infrequent. Several small gifts I gave her went pretty much unnoticed, with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates almost registering a sneer on her face on her last visit. Her time at my flat was largely spent talking to friends on the phone and on the computer, only taking breaks for coffee or sex.

After getting into an argument the other night, we went our separate ways. I just informed her tonight that it's over, and I don't feel good about it at all. Dumping someone is not easier than being dumped, even if things were rushing along faster than I liked. Oh well.

A Quick Note

Ukrainian women are flaky as hell. That is all.

Eccentric Expat vs. The World

As I've mentioned before, Ukraine is one of the prime havens for the marriage agency business. Every year, thousands of men from Western countries flock to Ukraine, looking for one of two things: love, or sex. The city I live in is one of the hotspots for those coming for both, and spring marks the beginning of the migratory season for men who haven't been laid in far too long.

I've named myself the "Eccentric Expat" for a reason; I've always been a bit eccentric, at least in comparison to most of my peers. This doesn't necessarily mean I'm weird, or completely socially inept, or the creepy kind of stalker that gives most women nightmares. I've always been a geek, and yes, sometimes I've been socially awkward, but like most people, I've learned how to adapt to my environment. I never had an actual "girlfriend" in high school, but I did have girls that liked me, and found myself with a decent amount of female attention afterwards.

Seven years of marriage flipped me back out into the dating pool, and again I found myself learning to adjust to my environment. Life as a 20 year old Marine didn't prepare me for life as a 30 something divorcee, but it didn't take me long to find my share of interested females again. As an adult, I've spent maybe a grand total of 3 or 4 years as a single male, as in, not being in a committed relationship. The vast majority of that time has been within the last couple of years. I spent a good stretch of a little over 2 years being celibate by choice. I didn't allow myself to get caught up in any kind of relationship, and didn't want the distraction that a relationship of any kind (sexual or emotional) would bring to accomplishing my goal of moving overseas.

While I've been able to adjust to my environment, I always still view myself as different. However, compared to the caliber of Western men that I've met here in Ukraine in the 2 months that I've been here, I've got absolutely nothing on them when it comes to being "different". It's like every year, the US government secretly rounds up all of the most hideous, socially deficient, abnormal men in the country and dumps them into Ukraine for weeks at a time. I have yet to meet a fellow American here who even approaches the outer limits of what most people consider "normal". I'll update later with some examples.

A Quick Note to All Expats

When in Ukraine, it's usually not a good idea to talk loudly on the phone in English when standing outside a supermarket at 9pm. You make yourself an easy target that way. Several days ago, my girlfriend (girl#1) and I met at the supermarket to get some food, and outside was an obvious American, speaking loudly on his phone. He was getting eyeballed by everyone walking by, and that time of the evening is when some of the more shady characters start hitting the street. My girlfriend and I both looked at each other and said simultaneously, "Amerikanski".

The Girl, Part 2

Something I didn't really expect with this girl was any kind of prolonged meeting. I thought she might be a flash in the pan, something that petered out as quickly as it started. That wasn't the case. After the second meeting, we spent more time talking online, and before I knew it, she was coming over to my old Soviet-era flat located in the heart of the city.

What was supposed to be one night turned into four. She stayed over the night, and then neither of us wanted to part aftwards. So she kept staying, until she spent most of the week at my house, venturing home only once during this time to check on her pet rabbits.

Meanwhile, she cooked for me for every meal. For breakfast, she made an omelet. For lunch, open faced sandwiches, with unsliced cheese and cold cuts. For dinner, more traditional Ukrainian food. The first day she was in my apartment, I left for work, and came back to find she had cleaned the place from ceiling to floor, and had dinner cooking for me. This cycle continued for several very enjoyable days.

Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, she went home, leaving my to my own devices again, but with a stocked refrigerator. She hasn't been back over since, due to having extensive dental work done, but she'll be back soon.

The Girl, Part 1

"Я хочу секс"

So flashed the words into my Skype chat window with the girl, someone who I had first hit up on a Russian dating site months before coming here.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because you please me," she replied, with the words automatically translated through a Skype translator plug-in.

30 mintes later, I was in a taxi on the way to her house, tepidly watching the driver navigate the pot-hole filled roads, often having to dodge massive pot-holes by driving on the shoulder. She didn't live all that far from me, but the trip took longer than I expected, thanks largely to Ukraine's crumbling infrastructure.

I was greeted by her outside of her sister's house, a duplex-style building which was much longer than it was wide. She led me through a gate, through a dirt path up to the front door, and let me inside. The inside of the house was tidy, with tasteful decorations and had obviously been remodeled sometime after the fall of the Soviet Union. We both sat on her couch and chatted away through Google Translate.

I'm sure most people can imagine what happened that night. I don't like to post the sordid details, but let's just say that the night was one that won't soon be forgotten. Usually, I'm not much for sleeping with a woman on the first night that I meet her, but of course, when you've gone through a 2 year period of voluntary chastity, it's hard to turn down such an opportunity.

Having said that, it's not like I hadn't done so either. I've had my share of one night stands, but they were all in the US, and none of the women looked as good as this one did. Her long, black hair with low-hanging bangs reflected the typical Slavic girl haircut. The tight body with a near washboard stomach and just the right amount of curves in the proper places reflected dietary and exercise habits that far exceed those of most American women. None of my previous girlfriends, save one, had anything on her in the looks department.

That first meeting was proceeded by several more weeks of talking online, with our plans to meet a second time foiled by both my long working hours and inclement weather. Finally, two weeks later, we met again. This time, it was different. There was no getting to know each other period before heading upstairs for the inevitable. I arrived to find dinner cooking, the aroma from the pot filling the house with a pleasant smell, and making my stomach yearn for food.

After a few minutes of chatting, dinner was served. A bowl of fresh borscht was placed in front of me, with the girl urging me to drop a healthy amount of sour cream into it. The taste of the dish was incredible, and was a far cry from any borscht I had tasted back in the US.

The rest of the evening, well...again, no need to go into details. The first meeting ended with me taking a cab home later that night. The second ended well into the afternoon of the following day, after having a very restful sleep with the girl cuddled next to me.

Social Interactions

Out of all of the reasons why a single American male may find his way out to Ukraine, women would definitely be at the top of the list. Really, there are few other viable reasons for an American man to come here. Yes, the cost of living is much cheaper than America, far fewer restrictions on things, etc, but those pros wouldn't outweigh the negatives when women are taken out of the mix.

Ukraine has a ton of problems. Government corruption would be at the top, but it also helps cause or inflate most of the others. There's no clear border between where government ends and organized crime begins. The infrastructure is extremely dated. Old Soviet apartment buildings are crumbling left and right. The roads look like they've been bombed out. Utility outages are frequent. Electronics cost much more than they do in the West. Packs of wild dogs roam the streets. Almost every street at night is pitch black, and walking around by yourself at night is always a scary proposition. There's plenty more that can be added here, but I'm sure you get the point.

Women are Ukraine's biggest attraction. There's an almost endless supply of  attractive, available women here. As one can read by almost every article or blog post from an American male on the Internet, a simple walk down the street will result in an almost endless supply of eye candy supplementing the crumbing infrastructure. Clad in fashionable clothes and high-heels, any heterosexual male can't help but appreciate the beauty surrounding him.

I met up with a few women during my first month here. A couple of them were only on the basis of friendship, without any romantic or extra-curricular overtones, but, not all of them. One in particular was pretty aggressive with pursuing me, leading me to meet up with her at her house on a Saturday night not that long ago.

I'm not going to post details, but let's just say that it was a very...interesting night. I think this photo should say enough about it:






It's not every night that a girl dances on her bed while wearing my underwear.