An hour before departure time, a crowd gathered outside the main train station in Przemysl, a Polish border town. Instead of the usual array of rolling suitcases and sleek garment bags, this denim-clad collective pulled bulging burlap bags and tarp-covered carts up to the entrance.
«What's in there?» I asked a middle-aged, plump woman with platinum hair and three big carts.
«Oh nothing in particular, business as usual,» she said. «Some tents, some underclothes. Just junk, you know.»
I watched in amazement as an old woman tried to foist one of her sacks on a man in line. With three kerchiefs tied under her chin, she was the stereotype of an Eastern European hag -- her face in a knot of wrinkles, her smile full of gold teeth.
«I don't know what she drags with her all the time,» my platinum-haired guide murmured. Introducing herself as Anna, she led me to the customs line.
«Since we have the same name, would you mind holding this bouquet for me while you're waiting?» she asked. «It's for my daughter. I just like the Polish flower arrangements so much better.»
Handing me the bouquet, she rushed off while I was left to consider how easy it would be to disguise crack cocaine as flower feed.
What had I gotten myself into?
Cross-Border Trade
To my relief, Anna returned to retrieve the flowers and pointed out the train that would take me to Lviv, the largest city in Western Ukraine.
On the train, I learned that most of the people at the station were not fellow travelers, but shuttle traders coming home from work.
The Poles call these Ukrainians «mruvk» (ants), who scurry back and forth across the border to trade goods such as gasoline, clothing and cigarettes.
Because of taxes, cigarettes are about twice as cheap in Ukraine as in Poland, said Maria, who goes across the Polish border every other day.
For this price, the hassles with border guards and visa requirements are worth it, she said.
She showed me her passport, filled with border control stamps: pink rectangles from Poland on one side red squares from Ukraine on the other.
Open Character
When Maria learned that I was traveling to Lviv by myself, she was horrified, and made me write down her number so that she would know I got home safely.
Accustomed to the respect for privacy that is inherent among New England travelers -- who may go for two hours on a train without making eye contact -- Maria's worries seemed excessive.
But over the next few days, I found out that Maria's conduct was the rule, not the exception, in Ukraine.
When I asked people for directions on the street, they would walk me to my destination. When I did not know how to make an international call, the woman at the kiosk patiently wrote out directions.
Once, an old man stopped me on the corner to say I was taking a picture from the wrong angle.
He showed me where to stand for the best view, and then talked for half an hour about his experiences as a war photographer.
New Spirit
Traveling by myself, I soon realized that it was these human interactions that turned me from a passive tourist into a traveler, exploring not only the landscape and monuments of the city, but also its people.
I felt that I was witnessing a historic period, the transition from the corrupt government of Leonid Kuchma, Ukraine's ex-President, to the reforms of Viktor Yushchenko, the new President who had come to power with widespread popular support in the Orange Revolution.
The youthful energy that inspired the Orange Revolution was palpable when I wandered upon a rock concert in the city park.
As the local band played familiar melodies, the raucous and cheering crowd sang along, jumping on each other's shoulders and dancing in circles.
I could not imagine this happening even two years ago, when descriptions of Ukraine brought to mind the hushed voices and secret gatherings of Communist Russia.
Uncertain Future
Some Ukrainians are optimistic that the government will institute economic reforms and eventually make the country a member of the European Union.
«Ukraine has broken off like an iceberg from Russia and is floating closer and closer to Europe,» said Ivan, a Ukrainian labor migrant. «In five years, maybe ten, we'll get there.»
Ivan hoped that soon he would be able to find work in his hometown.
But many others expressed doubt that the new government would effectively deal with the corruption that had plagued Ukraine under Kuchma.
Rather than relying on institutions, they choose to depend on themselves, sometimes through illegal activities.
In A Day's Work
On the way back, in a small store near the border crossing, I saw a group of women preparing to smuggle cigarettes.. One was stuffing cartons into the lining of her coat, another was strapping them to her upper leg with clear tape, a third tried to stuff a pack into the back pocket of her tight jeans.
Their actions were nonchalant and a disinterested store employee looked on. For me, it was a surreal spectacle.
For them, it was just a day's work, the necessity of making a living.
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