My son Andres, our Estonian friend Ain, his 5 year old son Sander and I land at Kyiv's Boryspil International Airport and take an uneventful 20 minute bus ride to the Bortnichi subway station. Large colourful banners announcing UEFA Euro 2012 are everywhere. But the first real impressions are made in the underground subway system of Kyiv where a plastic token costing 2 grivna (25 cents) provides entry to an impressive Soviet era built metro that 1.4 million riders use daily. Vendors are spotted coming onto the subway cars and conveniently sell necessities such as telephone cards, manicure scissors, children's toys and kites. The citizens of Kyiv traveling on the trains are homogenous – there is not a lot of diversity apparent amongst one's fellow passengers; the only visible minorities seem to be tourists. But they exhibit an incredible politeness to small children, as older Kyivians offer up their seats to youngsters, which includes Sander. The cyrillic script is predominant, and as we are soon to learn few people speak English, but we do have the Russian speaking Ain accompanying us. Apparently Russian and Ukrainian are very similar.
After 40 minutes on the subway and a short taxi ride we arrive at our hostel – the national Ukrainian youth sports centre where we receive a sparse, clean room with double beds and its own bathroom(an extra charge). Next comes a late lunch at the local restaurant – the Flirt Club, which the locals have cleverly combined into a cafe, restaurant and night club. Potato blinis, wings of chickens and a strong local beverage that comes in brown bottles, provide our first sampling of the local tasty cuisine.
As Ain and his young son take a short rest, my son and I proceed to the Fanzone – the official Euro 2012 area on one of the main streets of Kyiv – Khreshchatyk Street. This 1.2 km roadway is closed to automobile traffic and has a capacity to house 70,000 soccer fans. May Day parades have been held on this street in the past, but now large TV screens, tents with food and beer kiosks and souvenir shops await the wallets of soccer fans. A local Ukrainian beer was 15 grivnas ($1.88) and many of the visitors are intent on making major contributions to the Ukrainian economy. Apartment buildings with intriguing Soviet era facades look down on the proceedings and especially upon the antics of the Swedish fans – large in number, boisterous and already apparently practising for Midsommer. We watch that evening's game on a large screen in the Fanzone as Spain dashes Croatia's hope with a late goal.
The next morning is sunny, hot and perfect for a boat ride on the mighty Dnieper River. Along with my companions, we board a boat with no time schedule. Apparently a certain number of riders are required for the boat to leave the dock. When we ask when will the boat be leaving on its tour, the answer comes back ‘Today'. Waiting for the boat tour to start is alleviated on this hot day by the consumption of numerous local beverages and the occasional ice cream bar. After a sufficient amount of tourist monies have been exchanged, the boat tour commences. The first impression one is left with is that Kyiv is built in a forest – there are so many trees; even many of the side streets are tree lined. And one cannot miss the huge Mother Motherland statue, the structure stands at 102 meters high and overlooks the Dnieper and is part of the Museum of the Great Patriotic War. Very close to this monument one finds the Kiev Pechersk Lavra (Monastery of the Caves), a World Heritage Site. This multi-golden-domed monastery is still active and is the most famous of Kyiv's many golden domes. The boat cruise ends and one discovers other Estonians are on board – apparently they are everywhere now.
The game is fast approaching and my son and I return to the Fanzone where an ever growing number of Swedish yellow shirts have gathered at their Swedish Corner hangout and proceed to serenade us with numerous football songs and chants. Onlookers look on with astonishment as the impromptu gathering gains volume and strength with several thousand Swedish voices singing to the gathering throng. Did I mention there was beer involved? As a counterpoint, the Ukrainian team rally is led by an organized military band urging their team on for a good showing against the English side. Very few French fans are to be seen. One can only surmise that the Swedish kronor is in better shape than the Euro that the French are using. But the most appealing characteristic of the soccer fans is how well all of the different nationalities get along.
It is now time to travel to the Olympic Stadium, which was originally built for the 1980 Moscow Olympics. Getting into the stadium is relatively quick – only 3 checkpoints to get through. And once inside the newly renovated stadium that houses 65,000, it quickly becomes apparent that there are approximately 25,000 yellow shirted Swedish fans present. There cannot be more than 4,000 French fans.
The Swedish fans cheer their team's chances, boo when the French team has the ball, sing with gusto, clap at quiet moments, chant familiar Swedish soccer slogans and roar with delight when their team scores twice. A popular song sung by the Swedish fans is to the tune of the Beatles' Yellow Submarine. This is sung many times with great enthusiasm, undoubtedly I think, to some quaint Swedish lyrics. When I ask my Swedish seat mate on the airplane the following day, what are these quaint lyrics, he answered with the following translation “We have Zlatan Ibrahimovich, Who the **** is Ribbery?”. Zlatan is Sweden's big star, while Frank Ribbery is arguably France's best player. All of this stadium enthusiasm is surprisingly fueled by beer that was only .5%, the maximum alcohol strength allowed for this tournament in the stadiums. Oh yes, the final score was Sweden 2, France 0. It was the first time a Swedish team has beaten a French side since the 1950's. Unfortunately Sweden does not advance to the second round although France does and is defeated by Spain in their next game.
As the stadium emptied around midnight, Swedish fans are greeted by Ukrainian fans on the streets who compliment the Swedes on the play of their team. The Swedish fans have obviously made a lasting impression on the Ukrainians. And on me.
We rise early next morning to take Kyiv's public transit to the airport. It had all been quite different from my soccer game in Sao Paolo, where my host had been instructed to get me out of the stadium as quickly as possible at the end of the game, so that no disturbing events could happen to the foreigners. I am looking forward to going back to Kyiv and seeing more of this remarkable East European city.
Jaan Meri is a soccer enthusiast who now hopes to attend future soccer tournaments. His goal is to become Eesti Elu's soccer correspondent.
Jaan Meri
Fotogalerii – Fotod Jaan Meri
