Sofia
and Smoke Pit
I
had been in Kiev a few months when I finally found the bar that would become my
salvation. It was right off the Maidan Square and I called it Smoke Pit. I had popped
in there for a quick beer one afternoon after looking at rental apartments in
the neighborhood just after I moved to town, but it didn’t catch me as any
place I’d want to hang in. During that
first visit, it was crowded and in a basement with a low ceiling and everyone
there was smoking, so the name Smoke Pit stuck in my mind as a reference point
when I thought of the place. I decided
to check it out for drink months later
not realizing what the place would soon become for me. It’s funny how random motivations open doors
to life that would have easily remained closed, possibly forever, if events
just went slightly in another direction.
This could be said about my entire experience in Kiev (and life in general) because I never
imagined such a life even existed before moving there and it could also be said
about this night, as I decided to stop there to avoid seeing a girl I had
hooked up with at my usual place and this was the only other bar I knew.
Smoke
Pit was small, dirty, poorly lit, even more poorly ventilated and, as
mentioned, in a basement. You had to
maneuver down these steep narrow steps to enter. Looking back, it’s amazing that I never fell
down going in or out of the place. It’s door
was big and metal and its top hinge was always pulled out of the frame. It was a bitch to open and close. When you opened it, it screamed loud. Everyone in the bar knew when someone was
coming or going, but it depended on how smoky it was if you would be able to
see who it was. The place was a small
box with a low ceiling. It was gritty
and the walls were covered with hand drawn portraits of people. The paper of the portraits was weathered
yellow from all the tobacco constantly languishing in the air. They had a small bar that seated up to six
people and then the room was packed with small tables and benches.
The
wife of the owner ran the place. Her
name was Sophia. She was from Uzbekistan
and had a few gold teeth. Her black hair
was short and she was from Korean descent.
She must have been in her late 20s and she always had positive
energy. Her looks were average, but her attitude more than made up for it. Her English was substantial, not perfect, but
enough to talk to and joke with. We had
a good relationship, but it wasn’t from anything I had done. She mistakenly thought she knew me for a long
time, years, and I found this out immediately when I got there this night.
As
I entered the place, Sophia was behind the bar serving customers and yelled in
English, “HELLO! Good to see you
again!” I soon found out that she always
yelled “HELLO!” whenever anybody walked in, no matter who they were, where they
were from or what language they spoke.
She also always yelled “SEE YOU TOMORROW!” whenever anybody left.
Despite
her friendly welcome, I knew she couldn’t remember me from my one previous
visit, as I didn’t remember her, but I played along and said “Hello” and sat at
the small bar and ordered a beer.
When
she gave me the beer, she said, “We going to new bar tonight. You come with us?”
“New
bar??” I said, confused that someone was
being so friendly and familiar with me.
This usually didn’t happen anywhere I went.
“Yes,
music tonight at new bar, we leave twenty minutes, you come, yes?”
“Uhh,
I don’t know maybe, we’ll see. I have to
meet someone here.” It was a bald-faced
lie, but this is an instinctual thing to say when you cannot figure out what
you’re getting into. I had to comprehend
and think over what was unfolding before me.
“Ok,
twenty minutes, we leave twenty minutes.”
She smiled, I saw the gold and she walked into the back room where the kitchen
was.
I
sat at the bar, drank my beer and thought about it. I was planning on sitting there all night
anyway, might as well check out a new scene I thought as I tried to convince
myself to go. I was still fairly new to
Kiev and didn’t really know many places- or any people outside of the other bar
I frequented, Karambol. A little
adventure couldn’t be a bad thing I told myself.
After
about 10 minutes she came out. “We go
now, you come?”
“Yeah,
I’ll check it out.” I slammed my beer,
paid, and we all left.
Outside
it had started snowing again. It was
quiet and beautiful. We walked through
the main square to the main road. There
were four of us. Sophia, a guy named
Ivan and his girl, a hot bleach-blonde named Natasha. Sophia was the only one who could speak any
English, and I could still barely speak any Russian, but that didn’t mean
anything. We were all “old” friends in
Sophia’s eyes.
“I
no see you in long time. Where you
be?” Sophia asked me as we made our way
across the square. I decided to tell her
the truth.
“I
think you mistake me for someone else. I
have only been to the bar once before and only recently moved to Kiev.” I told her looking confused with a shrug and
a smile.
“Hahaha,
you joke me! I know you. I remember you!” She laughed.
I decided the truth wasn’t worth the effort.
“Ok,
well, thanks for inviting me along.
It’ll be nice to see something new.”
As
we continued to the street, I found out we would have to get a car to take us
to the new bar. We hailed one at the
main street and climbed in. I wasn’t
very familiar with the city outside of the center and had no idea where we were
going or how far we had to go. When we
got there around twenty minutes later, I was totally lost and was regretting
the decision to join along. I was out of
my element and comfort zone. The new bar
was in the middle of what appeared to be a residential neighborhood. You couldn’t even tell that it was a bar from
the outside; it looked like any other apartment building, which in fact, it
was. The entrance was in the back. It was really dark back there as we made our
way to the doorway.
When
we entered, the music was loud, jazz.
The place looked like an abandoned minimart that they didn’t bother
cleaning with a bar thrown into the middle and a dance floor at one end. It was nowhere near as smoky as Sophia’s
place, but it was smoky nonetheless.
Old, dirty and smoky- these were common characteristics of pretty much
all the bars in Kiev that weren’t high-end during these early days of
independence.
The
problem with this place was the people there.
Families were everywhere. Little
kids dancing with old men and women. It
looked like a wedding or something must have just taken place. Everyone was old and sitting with their husbands,
wives, kids, parents. I got a vodka
tonic at the bar. I figured I was
stranded there for a while. It was
really snowing outside and I had no idea where I was or how I would find a ride
home. I decided to just wait it out;
maybe I’d get lucky and Sophia would give me a ride back to her bar later. Also, there were a few hot mothers lurking
around, but no open seats anywhere, so I was forced to stand with my drink in
hand. The people I came with melted into
the background immediately like tears in rain and I soon couldn’t locate any of
them. I drank quickly to compensate for
the unfamiliar and new surroundings. I
soon lost track of how many vodka tonics I downed.
The
next morning I awoke in my bed with a serious hangover. I had no idea what happened or how I even got
home. The last thing I could remember
was dancing with Ivan’s girl at the new bar with everyone surrounding us in a
circle, clapping along and encouraging us as we spun in a circle holding each
other. I still don’t know anything else
from that night, but from that time forward, I never questioned the idea that
Sophia knew me for years, and she was always a happy, friendly face when I would
come and drink at her bar, which was often.
###
Another fun story about Kiev in the old days- An Afternoon in the Drunk Tank In Kyiv- can be found here:
https://libertinereflections.blogspot.com/2018/11/an-afternoon-in-drunk-tank-in-kyiv.html
Another fun story about Kiev in the old days- An Afternoon in the Drunk Tank In Kyiv- can be found here:
https://libertinereflections.blogspot.com/2018/11/an-afternoon-in-drunk-tank-in-kyiv.html
Subscribe by Email: If you would like to receive an email notification when I post, please send an email to: libertinereflections@gmail.com with the word "Subscribe" in the subject line and I'll add you to the list. Please share my blog with others- Thanks!
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