Becoming
a True “Lvivyanka”
By Adria Pelensky
Being a highly organized person, but displaying a flair for the
compulsive when it comes to travel, I began making lists of things to bring
before moving away to work abroad. Concerned that I would forget something,
this list system proved crucial to my pre-departure sanity, and thus I jotted
notes frantically. Necessary purchases at Shoppers Drug Mart for Imodium and
hand sanitizer, stocking up on Canadiana gifts like ice wine and maple
syrup and laundering all the clothes I planned on taking with me.
We all have our favourite outfits to wear. Some
outfits, because they’re comfortable. Some, because they’re fashionable and
others because of their functionality. Whatever the reason, or combination
thereof, when packing for travel, you have to be selective. Instead of thinking about which travel
insurance to purchase, I was concerning myself with what outfits to bring and
worst of all, which shoes to go along with them.
The critical question is always one relating to
shoes. You want to bring as little as possible, but you want to be prepared for
every instance. You need versatility, but also something elegant. You want
comfort, but you also need style. You
need something for work and for play. These are considerations for a single
season, now imagine three - Autumn, Winter and Spring.
I spoke with many of my female friends who had
travelled and lived in Ukraine for an extended amount of time, and many
recommendations were made in regards to ‘must bring’ items. The most consistent
advice came pertaining to fashion. A friend who had lived in Kyiv for work said
to me, “It’s okay to look just a little bit ridiculous. In
In my folding and stacking phases of trip
preparation, I began sorting which shoes would be reasonable for this journey.
I knew what I would wear in
Upon arrival, I knew that I had made the right
choices. Silver point toe pumps, tan boots with straps, patent black leather
heels. I knew I would have to condition myself to this new apparel so I
insisted on wearing some variation of healed shoe every day, although I did
allow flats on Saturday’s so I could enjoy walking through parks like
Shevchenkivskyj Hai and Vysokyj Zamok. Just after the first week I noticed that
my shoes were not holding up to the streets of Lviv. The rubber tips of my
heels were lost, the metal core exposed, the leather peeling up, ripped,
destroyed. “Would I have to buy new shoes?” I thought. “Nope” - Lviv has
mastered the craft of shoe repair.
In my early wanderings through the city, I
noticed consistent signage titled “Remont Vzutia” (repair shoes). Typically tucked into small rooms through
courtyards and gated driveways, these signs went seemingly unnoticed in my
first weeks. It was not in my mindset to ever fix my shoes, rather, to just
replace them. “What would ever necessitate this need?” I thought. Cobblestones.
A perfectly good shoe would have a very limited life if it was not for this
service. Through the recommendation of a co-worker, I ventured to one near
work. For less than three dollars my shoes were spared and reinforced to handle
the Lvivan elements. For the first time
since I arrived, I felt like a true “Lvivyanka.”
Recently, I made a foolish error in my
acclimatisation to “blend in”. While travelling, I choose comfort and
practicality over style. Knowing that I would be doing a lot of walking with
little rest, I opted for my casual Diesel-brand running shoes that I bought
while in Kyiv some two years ago. During transit, I was awoken from my nap by
two ladies laughing and discussing my shoes. Hearing only part of the dialogue,
I was confused by their issue. Could it be that this babushka knew that
they were last season’s model? Or was the lack-of-heal too much to bear? Not
enough dangling accessories or rhinestones? Before I could inquire, shocking
them with my understanding of the Ukrainian language since they assumed I was a
foreigner, they were off at their stop.
So ladies, when travelling to