This story begins with a group of wandering young adults who were searching for a good meal. On a Saturday night they strolled the streets of the most beautiful Ukrainian city, oblivious to the beautiful European architecture which surrounded them. They were caught in a flurry of dissonance because they failed to make a reservation. However, this strange band of young adults shortly that sometimes plans are better not made.
The core of this group’s quandary was the lack of a plan. It is why they ingnored the beautiful buildings surrounding them. They were more focused on the people they where with and the simple desire to eat.
Finally, the group found a place with a reasonable wait time. Still frantic, they ran up and down the stairs of the three story restaurant trying to find answers to the most simple questions. How can we make this an unforgettable night. And most importantly, when will we eat?
The group was seated. They began to take in the scenary and get into the rhythm of the live orchestra who was playing modern hits. They received their beers and said cheers to their meeting. The drinks continued to come and go. When the food came they ate and became full.
Then, each of them was handed empty water bottles by the orchestra’s roady which he pulled out of an old potato sack. They all did not know what to think. The room filled with Ukrainians began banging their bottles against their tables to the beat of the orchestra.
The curious youth adults began to follow suit, and within a minute they where all in beat with the orchestra. Nevertheless, they where “out did” by their neighbor who was a protigy water bottle drummer and a man on the floor above who was hanging over the railing which overlooked the orchestra. Both men were dancing, singing and banging; the way only drunk Ukrainian men can.
The group showed their approval of these two men’s skills with a collective laughter which drew the eyes of the whole room. The band of young adults shared a silent agreement. These are the nights we live for and the moments we will treasure forever.
*These are the thoughts of Richard J. Roman and are not affiliated with the Peace Corps or its affiliates.