Sometimes is odd running into the stereotypical image of what some people think of a place in the flesh. When many people think of Russia, an image of this lady appears. She is bent over, she is kerchiefed, she has a few teeth here and there. This is in Kiev, Ukraine and from this distance, this woman did look like either my grandmother, a small, Jewish woman who would feed you until your stomach would burst, never taking no as an answer, or a witch, who….oddly would do the same thing to your stomach, except cook you and eat you before it got to the bursting point. There were many ladies like this in the Ukraine and you could tell from a single glance that they were the backbones of their families. Hard worked, constantly aware, and with voices to conquer all banshee wails, these old school woman demanded your attention, deserved your respected, and ignited your imagination. I couldn’t help but thinking of Fiddler on the Roof the entire time I was there. I felt that I was returning to my roots, my past, and even if I couldn’t communicate with it, I could look to it to see what these old black and white photos of strangers who were related by blood looked like in color and in motion and in sound. Truly a place I would want to take my children to see, not just for the buildings, or the rustic country, but for the well endowed culture and past that I feel very connected to.