Ukraine Rulz: Podstakanniki

Before living in Ukraine, I was only a rare tea drinker.  However, Ukrainians are a people that love their tea.  It’s virtually impossible to not take up the habit while living here.  In the morning, during breaks at work, after lunch, after work, after dinner:  Ukrainians are always drinking tea.  Hell, even the six hour bus ride between Kyiv and Lutsk (which I am intimately familiar with at this point) stops mid-route at a rest stop for a complementary tiny plastic cup of tea.

But my favorite place to drink tea in Ukraine is on trains.  In Ghost Train to the Eastern Star, Paul Theroux lists off the idiosyncrasies of train travel in different countries.  I don’t recall what he identified as peculiar to trains in India or Vietnam, but I do remember him specifically mentioning the samovar on trains in the former Soviet Union.  Each wagon is equipped with one of these coal-heated water heaters that are tended to summer and winter by the wagon’s provodnitsia, or conductor.

Shortly after boarding, the provodnitsia will do her rounds, asking passengers if they would like tea or coffee.   These drinks are served in the incredibly awesome podstakannik.  The word means literally “under glass-er.”  A podstakannik is a wide-based metal glass holder with a generous handle that serves to simultaneously stabilize a glass of tea during the train ride and dissipate the heat of the samovar-hot water.  They are usually decorated with some sort of design, typically the Ukrainian railroad’s logo on Ukrainian trains.  A glass of tea served in a podstakannik is the perfect way to relax after busting your ass to make your train and the perfect complement to waking up with the sun the next morning.

Contemporary Ukrainian Railroad podstakannik

Because they are the perfect souvenir, I have long pondered how to get my hands on some podstakanniki.  I was even considering how I might be able to convince a provodnitsia to sell me some.  In the end, I settled for some cool Soviet-era podstakanniki that I found in a crafts bazaar in L’viv.  And I must say, both the build and the intricate decor of my new under glasser-ers are superior to any of the modern-era variants I’ve used on Ukrainian trains… A credit to those oft-made claims by the elderly about things being better during Soviet times?

My Soviet podstakanniki

The design on the front is classic:  a succession of Soviet spacecraft–beginning with Sputnik and progressinng to rockets–orbiting the earth.

Soviet-ear space decor

After finding and buying them, we didn’t waste any time putting ‘em to work while walking around L’viv.  Podstakanniki: they aren’t just for tea anymore…

Ukraine rulz: Kiosks

The kiosk is the 7-11 of Ukraine. It’s a roadside beacon of commerce conducted through a ten square inch window. Walking down the street and abruptly noticing how parched you are? Don’t worry: there’s usually kiosk nearby. Suddenly realize you’re out of matches to light your stove on a Sunday night? Don’t sweat: the kiosk’ll have some. Want a beer at nine in the morning? Yeah, I don’t know why you would, either, but you can buy one at the kiosk–and the occasional young hoodlum does! And perhaps the best part is that you don’t have to imprison your bag in a locker before shopping at a kiosk (as you have to do whenever entering a traditional store in Ukraine).

But to me, part of the allure of the kiosk is its mystery. It’s impossible to see inside the kiosk, as every square inch of its windows are used to display every type of chocolate, mineral water, beer, sour cream, soda, potato chips, candy bar, dried calamari, juice and other product available for purchase. Or, at least, every product theoretically available for purchase. All you need to do is scan the window, crouch down while speaking your order into the little window, receive your item, and pay. It’s that convenient. And if they can’t make correct change, you’ll receive a couple pieces of candy or a stick of gum instead!

Sadly, I don’t think the kiosk is economically viable in America, as they probably earn a good share of their income from beer sales in Ukraine.  Since we have those annoying things called “liquor licenses” and “open-container laws” in the US, don’t hold your breath.