Lviv, Ukraine – Downtown

Sat, Jul 4, 2009

Blog, Ukraine

Lviv, Ukraine – Downtown

It seems all I do is eat and drink on this journey. How am I to keep my warrior’s edge? I think I need to start a fast or I shall be too large to fit into my battle gear. These Ukrainians, a proud and strong people. I can sense the warrior spirit within them. From what I have learned of their history they have known hardship and suffering and yet I find them quick to smile and full of laughter. That is a warrior’s spirit. I also find their cuisine to my liking. It is a hearty food, from farmers and laborers who toil for a living. This reminds me of meals from the campaigns.

This horilka and meduvuha/medovukha, these are a man’s drink. Full of fire and warmth as it goes down. I must remember discipline or I will find myself drunk..shameful for a samurai warrior. I appreciate this protocol the Ukrainian show when toasting to each other. Very proper and respectful. First to the occasion. Then to friends. To the women. To the men. To parents. To children. Some toast to love. This is good and proper.

My hosts bring me to their “secret place,” kryivka. We are greeted by a weathered veteran who says something in Ukrainian to my host. I have been prepared ahead of time with the proper password response. After a brief toast of their wonderful meduvuha a secret passageway is revealed behind a bookcase and we descend into an underground entrance. I am told that during war times, these “secret places” held supplies and ammunition for their soldiers and were scattered throughout the countryside. The password ensured only the proud sons and daughters of Ukraine could enter. Very smart tacticians. Now in times of peace, these have become popular gathering places for the youth to socialize. Again, I am treated to rounds of meduvuha and raucous patriotic songs.

I think back further–it is still strange to think of the years after my time “backwards”–and I imagine the fierce Ukrainian Cossack, with his oseledets blowing in the wind astride his horse. These Cossacks, “free people,” followed not long after my time and had a code of honor which seems akin to my own bushido, the way of the Samurai warrior. The Cossacks did not fight for dreams of wealth, but valued loyalty and freedom above all else. They would never leave a comrade in peril. Indeed, these are traits that would fit nicely within bushido. I wonder if this is part of the lessons Sensei told me I must learn on my journey.

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