So, my last impression in Ukraine was a jump of the rate, to Hr 8 to the dollar. The one before that was a military parade on Khreshchatyk, when the nation’s troopers and all the metal scrap that was still capable of moving attempted to show Russia that it could not do to us what it did to Georgia earlier that same year.
The final decision to stay in the U.S. came on the third week of my living in Los Angeles. We had work to do here, and despite one of the projects spiraling out of control, another one, colorization of the movie Only Old Men Are Going to Battle, was going really well.
I came to Ukraine eight times in the first year, and four times to Moscow. In the second year, the number of visits was roughly the same because I took part in the filming of Land of Oblivion with Olga Kurylenko in Chornobyl.
But that wasn’t my greatest impression. It was obvious that the country was changing rapidly and people who used to be successful businessmen and even government officials before the crisis, were now driving taxis. I remember being blown off by a head of a district administration taxiing in his SUV, which really showed me the depth of the fall.
Over time, I began noticing that there is one sharp difference between business in the U.S. and Ukraine: despite many opportunities in Ukraine, most of the time they just end up being talked about, never coming to fruition. Alternatively, businessmen try to squeeze as much as they can here and now, without adding any value. In the U.S., it’s the other way round: people create a product and try to promote it in various markets.
I realized over time that I need to have as few projects as possible with my native land, and this tactic made my business more stable and independent.
In the meantime, Ukraine went on just fine without me. New restaurants opened in Kyiv, new terminals were built in the airport, Aerosvit went bankrupt and businessmen were trying to divvy up their own and someone else’s assets. But increasingly, all these and other events seemed distant and puzzling.
Five years after moving to the U.S., I realize how quick and short-sighted in the details the process of decision making in Ukraine is, and what a huge waste of money it results in. For example, I was amazed to learn that a stadium designed to seat tens of thousands of fans coming for the European Football Championship was only planned to have 500 parking spaces.
And look at that selection of goods in shopping malls! Does anyone need 100 types of kettles? And why do menus in restaurants look like books? Can the chefs really cook all those hundreds of dishes well?
Of course, Ukraine has had its moments of joy, like the creation of a private postal and delivery service. Old frustrations live on, too, like Ukraine’s customs who are still keeping most Ukrainians behind the iron curtain as far an Internet-trading is concerned. There are infuriating things like the Ukrainians’ attitude to piracy. This attitude can eventually cut the Ukrainians from digital distribution of prime content completely.
What gives me hope for Ukraine is its continued attempts to strive for European integration, as well as the failure of some political gambles which could have led my native land to dictatorship and even war.
But I have no regret that I am watching all this from a distance, cushioned by my new found motherland. There is no sadness that I had said my final goodbye.
Igor Lopatonok is the owner of U.S.-based Grading Dimension Pictures and Global 3 Pictures companies, and an émigré from Ukraine.
