🍻 In the spirit of friendship

Biergarten spirited away

A German classmate invited us to a Biergarten in Lviv. Apparently, a friend of his friend moved to Lviv and owned that Biergarten, so our classmate wanted to pay it a visit.

We planned to gather near the King Danylo statue in the center of Lviv. However, it turned out the place was 'permanently closed' according to Google. The phone number was disconnected. The website had a copyright banner from 2021. This looked like a dead end.

Most of us weren't eager to walk for 30 minutes to end up at a closed door, so we decided to do something else in the city.

Only loyal spirits

The two youngest people among us knew about a place where you have to say the "secret" password to enter. Unfortunately, there were five of us and room for only four — so another plan that didn't work out.

We then tried to find a place where they have good local beers. We ended up in a place where they also happened to serve a dish called "crushed muscovites". It looked tastier than the name suggests. I wasn't hungry so I kept it at one beer.

Most references to the war I see in Lviv are memorials of fallen heroes, flags, army symbols — Ukrainian sources of pride. Only rarely do I see more pointed anti-russian sentiments — "FXCK RUSSIA" signs, dishes named somewhat offensively, or toilet paper with Putin's face on it. I suppose some Ukrainians need these expressions for catharsis, whereas others want to avoid spending thoughts or energy on the enemy. Different ways to cope.

After the evening concluded, our German classmate heard back from the Biergarten owners. It turned out the Biergarten still existed but had moved location. Why one wouldn't update their website and Google Maps information is beyond me, but at least now we know!

All in all, our plan for the evening failed, but the evening was saved by the pleasant company.

A week later, the opposite happened: pleasant company gathered around an unexpected plan that turned out to be overly successful...

A concert in high spirits

Last year (but not this year), Solomiia taught at the Summer School — although not to me. (These days, she adapts Ukrainian folklore texts for language learners. I liked that initiative so I kept in touch.)

During summer school, I heard some students saying they miss her classes. I figured a meet-up between her and some students would be welcome, and so I reached out to her to arrange something.

Turns out she was already planning to go to a concert the very next day — and invited us to meet there. The concert with music from Ludovico Einaudi, Yann Tiersen and Max Richter would take place in the Metropolitan Gardens, the gardens of the St. George's Cathedral.

Arranging a meet-up has never been that easy — or that classy!

A spiritual intervention

Just as the concert was about to start (18:30), the air raid alert started (18:32). Everyone got up again and we were supposed to go to the shelters. I didn't see anyone hurry, nor did I see any directions to any shelter. So, people simply scattered and started visiting the nearby cathedral.

As Daan and I made our way to the cathedral grounds, a woman exiting those grounds started ranting at me — even though she was still a few dozen meters away. She looked like a devout person — I remember her wearing a headscarf and other religious attire.

The gist of the matter is that my piercings are an affront to God. That surprised me, as I learned before that I was a handsome kozak with those piercings. Communicating in Ukraine was hard, but her facial expressions and finger pointing got the message across. She even turned to Daan for help, also in vain. At some point she seemed to say I was a nice person but, of course, I was still offending God and that was bad.

I'm sure her intentions were good. I did reflect how happy I am that I'm old and foreign enough to let it all slide with a smile. A younger me would not have handled it well.

In the spirit of charity

After some 20 minutes, the air raid alert was over, people returned to their seats and the concert could finally begin.

The concert wasn't only good for music — it was also good for learning Ukrainian. Between almost every song, the host said something about the music that was to come and about the charity aspect of this concert.

There were a lot of opportunities to donate and support one of the army brigades during this event. There was even an auction! That was some tough and speedy Ukrainian to follow, but we got some gist of it. I think we heard that a 46-year-old bottle of Crimean wine, with the label in the Ukrainian language, was sold for 40,000 UAH (something like 800 €).

At that point, it became clear we stumbled upon the Lvivian high society. Many of the stunningly dressed women were posing in the garden for selfies. The men were comparatively underdressed, so I suppose I fit right in! Although... I wore more jewellery than most of the women — and than God allows — so who's to say, really?

Inspired food

The concert ended around 21:30 and we decided to go to the city center to have some food. Luckily, we found a place that still wanted to cook us dinner — just before the kitchen would close — but we'd have to order quickly!

So we sat down at 21:50 and ordered the food by 21:56 and got it served by 22:10. I don't think even McDonald's can beat this speed. And the food is really interesting too! My goulash was served on a trunk with smoke coming out from under it. Others got served a soup in an edible cup!

This meet-up with Solomiia turned out to become unexpectedly eventful and inspiring. The day ended on a bittersweet note as co-student Lesley was returning home the next day. But what a way to conclude a course, no?