A Moderate View on the Situation in Kiev and Southeast Ukraine from a Russian Politician

While the Ukrainian news site that I follow, Pravda.com.ua, seems to be pretty good at covering news and providing some interesting analysis, it has a few sources of bias that are typical of many news sources:

• Articles sometimes have titles that are misleading or make fun of certain politicians
• The use of loaded terms instead of more neutral descriptors
• More intense coverage of certain issues — what certain politicians/groups/countries are doing wrong — and less coverage of other issues, like mistakes made by the new government. 
• Comments are... often filled with hate in both directions

As a class, journalists tend to be idealistic and naive about some aspects of power politics. But where can you get the other side of the story? I often enjoy analytical articles by political scientists, political advisors, etc. who understand the logic of things better than most journalists. 

There was just one politician in the Russian Duma who voted against the accession of Crimea to Russia on March 20: Ilya Ponomarev. He recently made a trip to Ukraine and reports on the situation there after meeting with politicians and political groups and traveling around the country. I found his report very balanced and indicative of real issues in Ukraine that are poorly covered by Ukrainian Pravda and similar news outlets. 

Here's the original in Russian and a Google Translate version in English. 

Some interesting points from the article that help balance the perspective:

• The new government in Kiev also represents a group of oligarchs and representatives of big business. There has been a redivision of power and property.
• The Euromaidan was a genuine popular protest (who could think otherwise?!), but all it has achieved so far politically is the redistribution of power at the top echelons. A choice between Tymoshenko and Poroshenko as president is not what people went to the streets to achieve. 
• The much talked about lustration process (governments' policies of mass disqualification of those associated with the abuses under the prior regime) is basically stuck because the Maidan demanded it but lustration would threaten the positions of many who have benefited from Euromaidan. So they're trying to do a kind of "selective lustration" that they hope will satisfy Maidan supporters. 
• Pravyy Sektor ("Right Sector") activists are basically just like skinheads in Russia — grown and fed by political powers. But their role in Ukraine is vastly overstated by Russian media. Also, the author reports not encountering any "Banderovtsy" — a vague term thrown around by Russian media to refer to Ukrainian nationalists intent on persecuting Russians and Russian speakers. 
• The Kremlin's actions surrounding Ukraine have severely damaged Russia's reputation in the eyes of Ukrainians. Most of their angst is directed personally at Vladimir Putin, but some of it carries over onto feelings towards Russia and Russians in general, particularly because so many Ukrainians are aware of what Russians think about the issues and the propaganda they are fed through the news. 
• "Russians are the victims of government propaganda and sincerely believe they are saving a brother nation from fascists who have seized power in Kiev thanks to money from the CIA and the European Union."
• Youth in Kiev are enlisting in militias and the army in large numbers. Ponomarev has never seen so many Ukrainian flags and so much patriotism and sees it as a national rebirth. 
• Most Ukrainian citizens viewed Crimea as "not completely Ukrainian" and recognize that the dominant Russian speaking populace always looked towards Russia. That doesn't negate the amoral nature of the takeover.
• People don't just blame Russia for the takeover of Crimea, but also the previous leadership of Ukraine that failed to provide a better life for people there, and the current leadership that failed to defend the peninsula. 
• Kiev is full of alarm and heated political discussions but is still calm. Donetsk Region is currently under battle, and firearms are being used (but no artillery or fighter planes).
• Only 20% of Ukrainian army and police forces joined the Russian side in Crimea. The rest left when given the chance. 
• In the three problem regions of Kharkov, Donetsk, and Lugansk, there are roughly four equal groups: those who want to become part of Russia, those who want to stay in Ukraine but conduct federalization, those who want to preserve a unitary Ukrainian state, and those who are unsure. It's a different situation than Crimea and portends civil war if events continue as they are going.
• "There is no massive Russian intervention, but there are special forces there (GRU? [Main Intelligence Directorate forces — translator]) and subversive groups who perform a directing and organizing role for so-called self-defense forces."
• The main reason for protests in the southeast is not the desire to join Russia, but fear of a new wave of property redistribution and discontent with authorities in Kiev. Russia is but a protector and a provider of stability to these people. 
• 60% of the population in these regions are afraid of "Banderovtsy," 48% of poverty, and 38% — of Russian soldiers. 
• Donbass mine workers look at the situation in Russia's Rostov Oblast, where almost all the coal mines were shut down. They don't want to enter Russia. 
• People in the east are displeased that Kiev government leaders don't come and talk to them or make visits only to their local protégés, and that the national agenda is being set by representatives of western and central regions.
• People in the southeast did not understand why oligarchs were appointed governers of their oblasts and don't believe in the good intentions and ideals of pro-Maidan politicians. 
• The government in Kiev needs to become closer to people in the east if it wants to keep them in the country. They need to go out onto the squares and engage with people and not be afraid of being pelted with eggs. 
• Quite a few high officials actually don't want to keep eastern Ukraine because it is subsidized from the budget and they don't want to revive industry. 
• A referendum on federalization should be held. Only 20-25% of people around the country support federalization, and it would help calm tensions. Without such a referendum the presidential election might be disrupted in the east, with dire consequences. Some politicians in Kiev are coming around to this idea. 

Ease of Doing Business in Former Soviet Union Countries

The countries of the Former Soviet Union (FSU) share a common legacy but have taken very different economic paths during the past 20 years. This report on the ease of doing business may be of interest to many readers. 183 countries were ranked, including all FSU countries except Turkmenistan.

Below are FSU countries listed by number in the ranking with their change in position from 2010 to 2011, annual GNI (gross national income, which fails to account for the shadow economy) per capita, and population in millions. Follow the links to get more information about each country's rating.

16. Georgia (+1) / $2690 / 4.6 million

21. Latvia (+10) / $11620 / 2.2

24. Estonia (-6) / $14360 / 1.3

27. Lithuania (-2) / $11400 / 3.2

47. Kazakhstan (+11) / $7440 / 16.6

55. Armenia (+6) / $3060 / 3.3

66. Azerbaijan (+3) / $5180 / 9.2

69. Belarus (+22) / $6030 / 9.5

70. Kyrgyzstan (-3) / $880 / 5.5

81. Moldova (+18) / $1810 / 3.6

120. Russia (+4) / $9910 / 142.9

147. Tajikistan (+5) / $780 / 8.0

152. Ukraine (-3) / $3010 / 45.9 (download full report here)

166. Uzbekistan (-2) / $1280 / 27.6

Average change in rating from 2010 to 2011 for FSU countries: +4.6

Average GNI: $5675, or $3824 not including Baltic states, which are the three wealthiest per capita with an average GNI of $12460

Observations:

• Georgia is the lowest-GNI country in the top 44.
• Belarus and Kazakhstan are both substantially higher-income and easier for doing business than Ukraine.
• Ukraine is ranked lowest in Europe in terms of ease of doing business.
• Russia is three times wealthier per capita but nearly as hard to do business in as Ukraine.
• The 3 Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania) are at nearly the same level of income and ease of doing business, as are the 3 Transcaucasian states (Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan).
• Of the Central Asian republics, Kazakhstan is both by far the wealthiest and the easiest for doing business.
• Among the bottom 35 countries, Ukraine is 3rd in terms of income per capita. Only Venezuela and Angola are "better off."
• Most of the most populous FSU countries (Russia, Ukraine, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan) are in the bottom half of the ranking, while all of the least populous (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Armenia, Moldova, and Georgia) are in the top half.

Back in the USSR... You Don't Know How Lucky You Are

My relationship with Eastern Europe goes way back to 1994, when I was an exchange student in Slovakia, which had recently separated from the Czech Republic (the so-called "Velvet Revolution"). The country was in the early stages of developing a market economy and a European-style political culture and was widely considered poor and underdeveloped.

Actually, it seemed perfectly fine. People seemed as happy as they can be at this latitude, the culture was a healthy, middle-of-the-road mixture of individualism and collectivism, people could travel freely and engage in many kinds of activities, and one did not sense the presence of a ubiquitous suppressive government machine. Perhaps I was too young to pick up on some adult things like politics and societal structure. I believe there was some suppression of freedom of speech regarding political matters, but I am not aware of any other ways that the Slovaks were not free.

Next stop was Russia in 1996-98. Going there, I knew it would be "Slovakia times 2" relative to my country of birth (USA). That turned out to be exactly the case. Things were more run-down than in Slovakia, people were more helpless and desperate, the economic hardships were greater, there were fewer opportunities and less sense of personal freedom of movement, speech, and opportunity.

At the same time, Russia was an interesting place. I didn't fully realize what this meant at the time, but Russia had just suffered a monumental collapse of society. Production had fallen by 50%, everyone had lost their life savings, and many societal institutions had ceased to function. At the same time, almost everyone was living in their own apartment and had no debt and, essentially, no taxes to pay. Many basic services were provided free by what remained of the state machine.

Few people at the time knew English or were interested in it. I had full Russian language immersion for nearly 2 years. There was little motivation yet to learn English, since it was nearly impossible for most people to leave the country, and the modern corporate juggernaut of Russian pseudocapitalism had barely begun to grow out of the rubble of the collapsed economy.

The Russians were tangibly dissatisfied with life. Their education and profession, once important social assets, now meant almost nothing. The system they had grown up in had ceased to function. One often had to do demeaning things to get by. The American ethos of "making a difference in the world" seemed laughably inadequate when transplanted to Russian soil. You can only "make a difference" by creating a system or transforming a system, which itself can function only by integrating with existing foundational systems of society. People were busy simply trying to get by and make the best of their situation.

Then came Ukraine, which I first visited in 2000. By then the "rambunctious 90s" had basically ended, thugs and mafia had either died off or institutionalized, and a semblance of law and order had returned to most of the former Soviet Union. My young Ukrainian friends were earning under $150 a month except for rare exceptions. People received their salaries in envelopes, and US dollars were the main currency in use for "anything serious."

Ukrainians were tangibly lacking freedom of speech and access to government. People talked of the "regime" and of the difficulties of getting by in the shadow economy. Everyone was outside the law in some way or another. Government was either avoided (by individuals) or bribed (by businesses).

In the 2000s, the economy started to pick up after years of contraction. More and more consumer goods were making their way into the country, and real salaries were rising faster than expenses. People started investing money in real estate (banks were still not trusted), and prices rose by leaps and bounds. Cell phones became popular, dial-up Internet was replaced by cable, flat-screen monitors appeared, and rumors of wireless Internet began to seep in.

The mood of the country had changed perceptibly. A sense of optimism had appeared that had formerly been absent. People sensed that their life was actually improving and that stable economic growth was occurring. They began to plan for the future. Banks accommodated them by offering loans and mortgages, first for just a few years, then eventually up to 10 years. 10 years of predictable economic conditions in Ukraine! -- the thought seemed almost believable for the first time in decades.

In the middle of the 2000s, there was a blip called the Orange Revolution. Widespread economic optimism about the future demanded a more accommodating government with more modern ideals. The new leaders made optimistic statements in the spirit of the time and enjoyed widespread support from a little over half of the population.

Despite the new government's incompetency, basic economic fundamentals pushed the economy forward and contributed to a rising standard of living. I discontinued my internship program because it just seemed too expensive now to come to Ukraine and work without pay at some organization for a period of time. It used to be that one could get by on $400-500 a month, which is not too much for students and young professionals from the West, but now living expenses were pushing $1000 in Kiev and other big cities.

Within just a year or two of the Orange Revolution, the new government was deemed a failure by a vast majority of the population. Legislation and development projects were at a standstill, and campaign rhetoric had not translated into actual deeds and government policies. At the same time, government offices were as corrupt as ever or even worse.

Then came the financial crisis of 2008. Real estate prices fell by half, credit dried up almost overnight, and the Hryvnia lost 40% of its value against other currencies. Construction projects in Kiev were shut down, and large numbers of labor migrants had to leave the city and return home for lack of work. Suddenly, people who had taken out dollar loans were barely making their debt payments, and people began to go bankrupt.

The mirage of economic stability disappeared once more. Even after the semi-recovery of 2010, national debt payments hang over the country's head, and there are persistent rumors of a coming wave of economic difficulties and further declines in real estate prices. The mood is cautiously optimistic to overtly pessimistic.

The new government leaders have proved to be more organized and coordinated in their actions, and infrastructure projects have been boldly resumed, but government decisions are making life harder for people, not easier. Procedures are becoming more difficult to perform, the tax burden is growing, and doing business is becoming more and more difficult, particularly for small and medium-sized business.

But Ukrainians are now better acquainted with the rest of the world. People have been to Egypt, Turkey, Vienna, Poland... Ukraine even got its first low-cost airline. Ukrainian "gastarbeiter" know the ropes in Spain, Portugal, Italy, and Russia. Everyone is either using their English, trying to learn English, or self-flagellating over not being active enough about learning English. Internet use is widespread and ubiquitous for the under-30 crowd (at least in cities).

Awareness about how things could be in Ukraine is growing continuously. The older generation only knows how things are now and how they were in Soviet Union times. The consumer culture has become more and more internationalized and cosmopolitan, while politics is still dominated by people who began their careers in the Soviet Union and continue to gravitate to time-tested authoritarian and Soviet models of governance.

My experience with government bodies of late has convinced me that very little has changed in the operations of the government machine in the past 20 years. Dealing with these offices is like stepping back in time several generations. No one with any power has, as of yet, taken any decisive steps to transform the actual workings of the government machine.

After 15 years of visiting the former USSR, I can say that what is holding Ukrainians back most from a happy life is not a lack of money or economic development, but things like a lack of solidarity and community, a lack of trusting relations with their own government (the phrase even sounds comical), a sense of helplessness due to corruption in the law enforcement and justice systems, the difficulty of legalizing one's activities and residence, etc.

No amount of iPads and personal automobiles can compensate for the underlying sensation of oppression and helplessness permeating Ukrainian society. By working hard and having the right connections one can jump up the corporate ladder, rise above the hardships of the common man, and physically separate oneself from the unpleasant elements of Ukrainian society and the innumerable "tragedies of the commons," but an enduring sense of security is always unattainable.

Our Court Appearance, Fine, Fingerprints & Mugshot

Next stop along the Nine Circles of Hell...

Our journey to obtain full legal rights to work and reside in Ukraine as a foreigner has taken us through the "nine circles of hell." This is a reference to Dante's Inferno and a common Russian/Ukrainian cultural idiom referring to long, drawn-out processes involving much mental misery. For some reason the phrase "7 кругов ада" is much more common than the more correct "9 circles."

Our most recent adventure along the torturous route to allow my wife — a helpless U.S. citizen employed as a "linguistic consultant" (her job title can't include the word "teacher" since education activities require a special permit from the Ukrainian Ministry of Education) — to not only teach Ukrainians the world's business lingua franca legally, but legally reside in Ukraine AND even enjoy the great privilege of being able to leave and re-enter Ukraine legally over the duration of an entire year — yesterday took us to a Ukrainian courthouse.

You see, no one told us during the process of obtaining her precious temporary residency permit that she must get registered within 10 days. We're doing this all without a lawyer because that would cost too much. Two months later, when I had finally jumped through all the hoops to get the necessary paperwork together, I was informed that we were long overdue and would first have to pay a fine determined by the local court. "It's a quick procedure — nothing to worry about," the sympathetic OVIR functionary told me.

First, she gave me two forms that needed to be filled out by the foreigner and landlord, respectively. These would need to be brought back to her during her working hours (just parts of 3 days a week), when she would then tell us the time of our court appearance on the following day. Like, all of us have nothing to do, right? Skipping work at a moment's notice shouldn't be a problem for anyone, should it?

We filled out these papers, giving an explanation of why we had failed to register the foreigner according to article so-and-so of the Constitution of Ukraine. In Ukraine, a Ukrainian citizen or entity needs to bear legal responsibility for those pesky foreigners in case rules are broken. One gets the impression that Ukrainian citizens are supposed to carefully study all relevant Ukrainian legislation before entering into any sort of business interaction with a foreign citizen.

The lady gave us the time of our court appearance on the following day. My wife had to cancel a lesson or two; our landlord, luckily, works on a flexible schedule. The three of us appeared together in front of the court building. A young man walked up at 10:00 and called together all of us who were there for this category of infringement. First we sat down together in the foyer. For each case, the foreigner and the errant landlord had to quickly sign a dozen forms, the contents of which were apparently "pure formalities" of no particular consequence.

Then, we walked up and down the floors of the courthouse a couple times in confusion until we discovered where our appearance was to take place. Then we stood in the hallway and waited for, um, an hour and a half. Finally, our turn came. The courtroom was about 5 meters by 4 meters, and a lady in a robe sat behind a desk, with 3 scribes or something sitting at the other end of the room behind desks. The young man ushered us in, and the lady asked us a few questions, smiled sympathetically at our thinly veiled sarcasm regarding the impossible Ukrainian bureaucracy, and notified us of our fine: the errant landlord would have to pay a fine of 1020 UAH ($125 USD). A rather hefty sum for Ukraine...

From there we went downstairs again and waited till the others had finished. Then the young man told us where to go to get our fingerprints taken the next day (since the process had dragged out longer than he expected). We complained that it was inconvenient to miss another half-day of work to come up here tomorrow, and he agreed to take us over there now according to the original plan.

The police building smelled of mouldy walls and cigarette smoke. My wife covered her nose and stood there with me for another half hour or so. The first naughty foreigner came out after what seemed like an eternity, his hands hopelessly covered in ink. The others had scouted out a bathroom in advance, but there was no soap there, and no hot water or towels (remember those common gripes about Ukraine?). The man spent 10 minutes rubbing the sticky ink off his hands and began to fume. A philosophical discussion about the state of government and the efficacy of protest ensued, with me advocating complaining openly to the personnel and an older lady defending the traditional "keep a low profile" Soviet sheeple approach honed over several generations of repression.

Next it was our turn. My wife, obviously now a potentially dangerous element, was put on the police record by a rude young dimwit in a police uniform, then photographed from several angles. Then he covered her hands in ink and took her prints. I asked where she should wash her hands off. He said the young man who was with us would show us. "He's gone," I answered. It's up a floor, he said. "There's no soap there," I answered. "What can I do about it? We don't have soap, either," he said. We left.

Outside the room, the older lady whispered gleefully that they had found a bathroom on the 3rd floor with a box of soda under a stool in a closet. She said to use it as discretely as possible so that no one got mad and kept the others from using it. We went up there and only found a men's bathroom. So my wife spent 10 minutes rubbing ink off her hands using soda in the men's bathroom. Meanwhile, a couple policemen came in to use the bathroom, looked at us in surprise, but said nothing.

3 hours after arrival, we were finally free.

Our next steps are simple:

1. pay the fine at a bank, entering our landlord's data
2. bring the receipt back to the court and figure out who to give it two
3. come back to the court in 2 weeks to pick up the official court decision during their reception hours
4. take the court decision to the OVIR during their working hours

Note that here, as in everything, we must personally move all the necessary documents around ourselves, visiting all these offices during working hours, which cut into our own workweek. I wonder how much of Ukraine's GDP is lost because of inefficient dealings with government.

Finally, the OVIR officer will kindly finish off my wife's registration procedure. I think I just have to run to a couple other offices in the OVIR and nearby Passport Counter building in the process. That is, unless something else pops up.

Then, and only then, will my wife be able to freely leave and re-enter Ukraine for the duration of validity of her work permit. Well, that's actually not much time. The work permit was received 6 months ago and it's taken us all these months to perform the subsequent bureaucratic procedures, so if she's lucky she'll have just 5 months to fully enjoy the rights provided through her temporary residency permit. Then, we'll just need to renew everything, get new visas, and a new residency permit with a new registration. With all the valuable experience I've obtained the first time around, this time we can probably do it all in under 100 man-hours.

Needless to say, we will not be getting her a work permit again.

How to Live the tranquil life in Ukraine

As a general rule, the best life in Ukraine is one where you have no dealings with government offices of any kind. Or, you are so high up on the social totem pole that you can have other people take care of all your legal worries or simply have government contacts "settle your matters" for you.

For foreigners this means never registering, never dealing with OVIRs, never signing papers, never getting documents or filling out official forms. The ways to live this peaceful life are several:

• Spend no more than 90 days in the country out of any 180. Set up a second residence across the Polish border. Take lots of trips out of the country.
• Get a visa and fail to register, then pay the fine when you leave (quicker and a lot more painless).
• Get two passports (preferably two citizenships) and switch them upon re-entering the country.
• Try re-entering the country after leaving after 90 days. Who knows — maybe they'll let you back in!
• Get rich and pay lawyers to solve your problems. Or work for some official foreign governmental organization with special agreements.

Moral of the story: Ukraine is for visiting, but not for living or business. Legalize activities at your own risk.

Every well-educated Ukrainian over 30 knows that the system is profoundly messed up and needs to be changed completely. Even intelligent government workers will quietly agree when you voice your complaints about the system. But nobody can do anything about it.

I'll bet that even if you grabbed the most notoriously corrupt or mercantilistic Ukrainian oligarch-politician by the gills and demanded he give you his opinion, he would confess that the government system needed to be streamlined and modernized. Ask him what kind of interaction he would like his children to have with Ukrainian government, and he would paint you a picture of a civilized western country where individual rights are respected and government exists to serve the needs of the people.

My Biggest Mistake in Ukraine

During my 8+ years in Ukraine I've had plenty of time to make mistakes. What do I regret most of all? Helping my wife (U.S. citizen) get a work permit. Yes, this decision has been the greatest source of stress and negative emotions of anything I have done in Ukraine.

Since my wife doesn't speak Russian or Ukrainian fluently and doesn't understand the system, and because her employer took care of the work permit process only and we are too poor to afford costly legal services oriented towards foreigners working for transnational corporations, I had to take care of the rest of the processes myself.

The result: over 100 man-hours of work, costs (visa, fees, late fines, registration, covering costs for landlord) of upwards of $1000, and continual stress for nearly 9 months as all the steps of this impossibly complicated process played out. I would place a value of roughly $15 per hour of my time, so the total cost of this endeavor has been perhaps $2500. That is, I would not do it again unless you paid me over $2500 to do it.

A Ukrainian work permit is not a good choice for people who do not have the complete support of corporate legal specialists.

Each step of the process leads to another step, the details of which you only find out as you complete the previous step. Each step involving the OVIR or the ZHEK typically requires multiple visits as you first find out the working hours, then who to talk to, then what documents you are lacking, then which things you have done incorrectly, then finally to submit the document/s.

I believe I have been to the city OVIR nearly 10 times for this process, the local ZHEK 5 times, and the rayon OVIR half a dozen times — all for steps of the process that follow receipt of the work permit. That is, getting the work permit is just a fraction of the work involved. The real difficulties come when you get a temporary residency permit and then get the foreigner with the permit registered at a Ukrainian address.

So what do I recommend? Working illegally in Ukraine is a wiser choice for foreigners in the English teaching category than trying to go through the rigamarole of obtaining a work permit and temporary residency.

The fact is, Ukraine desperately needs native teachers of English and other languages (and all the politicians know this, if they have ever given thought to the subject), but absolutely no provisions have been made to allow this to happen. Compare this to Georgia, which now has an official government program to bring native teachers to the country, provide them with housing and a liveable salary, and take care of their organizational worries.

The work permit process — like other bureaucratic business procedures in Ukraine — is designed (whether intentionally or by default) in such a way that only large business structures with lots of capital and legal staff can adhere to them. Everyone else in Ukraine lives outside the law in webs of deceit that make them vulnerable to the whims of government officials, police, etc. Without a doubt, this is the worst part about living in Ukraine, whether you are a native or a foreigner. It's a great reason to emigrate.

The only way out of this web is to be part of a large business structure that provides you with all the appearances of complete legality while taking all the responsibility for deceit upon themselves. For this they have legal staff and government connections that allow them to "settle matters" more efficiently than small businesses or individuals could ever hope to.

When's the Last Time You Heard the Words "No Problem" in a Government Office in Ukraine?

I heard these words today from the lawyer at the local ZHEK office where my wife has to get some documents for her post-work permit registration. After much experience visiting various Ukrainian government offices, I have to admit I was stunned to hear this from the mouth of a Ukrainian bureaucrat. After 4 previous visits to the ZHEK for a precious stamp, I had been dreading this visit and envisioning a list of additional requirements whose fulfillment would be close to impossible by our document deadline.

Far more typical is a long, tense silence while the officer scours your documents looking for problems, then presents you a list of reasons why they can't do what you need them to do.

- "What is this here? How do you expect us to accept a form that's been copied upside-down on the reverse side?"

- "The rental contract has to have the ZHEK's round stamp and the director's signature. This rectangular stamp won't do."

- "Where's the xerox of the passport page with the most recent entry stamp?"

- "How am I supposed to know how to spell your name in Ukrainian? There should be an official translation with your passport."

- "How can I be sure that the foreigner really wants to be registered if she isn't even here?"

- "This tax statement is only valid for 30 days. It was issued 35 days ago."

- "I need you to write a statement (zayava or zayavlenie) stating what you're asking us to do."

3 out of 4 Ukrainian bureaucrats scowl, look depressed or angry, and just want you to leave them alone as soon as possible. 1 in 4 is serious, but friendly and not interested in asserting power over you, the visitor.

Who benefits from the Ukrainian bureaucratic machine?

The dizzying paperwork required for just about any legal activity in Ukraine creates a situation that favors two types of business activity:

1. Big business with budgets large enough to hire lawyers to solve all their legal issues using "all available means."
2. Individuals who work completely under the table

Everything in between these two extremes is punished in the Ukrainian legal machine. Small business development is weak because of the great obstacles to managing a business legally without lawyers and extensive government contacts. Potential entrepreneurs choose instead to join existing organizations and work for a salary because it's easier and safer than trying to build a business alone. Or they go completely underground and pretend to be jobless, but are then unable to grow their business and hire employees.

I think this legal system is a holdover from communism, where individual activity was made extremely difficult, and only large, government sanctioned organizations were able to legally get things done.