Odessa’s hidden courtyards intrigued, fascinated, and more often than not, surprised me.
Around the corner from Cathedral Square in the old town was my hostel, the door of which was deep inside a gated, old courtyard. The pavement was in upheaval, paint was sorely lacking everywhere, but it was clean. Laundry was often hanging out to dry between the walls of houses which surrounded the inside of the courtyard.
I eventually came to the conclusion that my atmospheric courtyard was typical of Odessa’s old traditional courtyards which were hidden throughout old town. The occupants were of diverse nationality, age, and profession. It was scarce on beauty, but revealed an interesting slice of Odessa life and culture.
My courtyard became my *Little Odessa. I soon felt very much at home there. I periodically exchanged friendly greetings in English with two Muslim women outside the entrance of their stately, two-story house. A couple of times I observed a young professional man tapping on a window as he approached a door of a house in the courtyard. The door opened quickly thereafter and he vanished inside. 
Once I was faster than he was and got a glimpse of a stunning, flower-filled interior. I often exchanged smiles with a middle-aged woman who was taking her dog out for a walk. Two adolescents occasionally played a noisy game of football (soccer) until someone called them in.
I observed a different kind of courtyard activity just outside my dorm window where I often sat while writing this blog. A large paved area with a volleyball net was surrounded by buildings. It was often a buzz of activity with students from the high school next door who were playing volleyball or football (soccer). First there would be a scurry of excitement, then a whistle, then total silence as the group exited the play area. Then I would get back to work until the next pleasant disturbance. Fun!
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No courtyard was more thought-provoking than the one where the Museum of History of Odessa Jews was located, which was a few blocks from my hostel. In the rear of the crumbling courtyard was a small apartment where four Jewish families had lived together during Soviet times. 
This museum pictured the lives of the Jewish population of Odessa before the Holocaust with a rich, diverse collection of items donated by descendants of Jewish families who managed to survive those times.
I couldn’t help but compare this humble museum to the grandiose Jewish history museum that I visited a couple years ago in Warsaw, Poland. The museum in Warsaw delved deep into centuries of Jewish history. 
In comparison, the museum in Odessa gave me the feeling I had walked into the lives of several Jewish Odessa families in the 20th century. 
It was cozy, informative, and heartbreaking, all at the same time.
The new handbook City Guide of Jewish Odessa, which I purchased at this museum, was a great help in my quest to learn about the city’s heritage. The smile on the fresh-faced Jewish boy on the cover made me feel like he was welcoming me into his world, which he did through this well-written guidebook.
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On the wall of one of Odessa’s more artistic courtyards was a mural containing the famed Russian poet, playwright, and novelist, Alexander Pushkin, in a very casual, relaxed pose. 
Born into Russian nobility in 1799, he was the great grandson of an African slave. He was eventually banished, for his political poems, to remote southern Russia, where Odessa was located.
It seemed every time I turned around there was some sort of remembrance of Pushkin, whether in the form of a statue, a bust, or a wall painting. This wall painting was the most endearing of all these remembrances, presenting him as a charmer, which I understand he was.
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* Little Odessa was a nickname sometimes given to Brighton Beach, NY, due to the Russian immigrants who settled there, largely Russian Jews, from Odessa.
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As I alighted from my nine-hour overnight southbound train ride from Kiev to Ukraine’s strategic port city of Odessa, I was greeted by the delightful, sea breezes of the Black Sea. It was mid March and spring was on the horizon in this southern port city. 
He worked in technology for a company out of Norway that has an office in Kiev. The common language among the workers in his company was English. We all talked into the night. 
It was near a McDonald’s which had a delightful outdoor seating area outside a historic building. It was the most inviting McDonald’s 
I have seen overseas. An international money exchange place was located next door 
Every time I 
Cathedral Square is considered the spiritual center of Odessa because Transfiguration Cathedral, the main cathedral of the city, is situated here. 
The historic orthodox cathedral that used to grace this square starting in 1808 during Czarist Russia times, was destroyed by the Soviets in 1936. 
A large market of hand-made souvenirs and artwork lined the sidewalks and plaza. There was a definite Jewish presence in some of the paintings, with several men wearing a *kippah. 
. 
Visiting the Museum of Folk Architecture and Rural Life 
It was a bit of a hike on dirt paths through a 
Natalia, a native of Lviv, studied English in her early school years, then stopped. 
Her passion is landscape architecture, which she does for a hobby. Twenty minutes later we arrived at the 
One
Lviv is often referred to as the coffee capital of Ukraine. Three centuries of European influence in the city have left a stamp in the Old Town in the form of unique,
atmospheric cafes, with coffee dominating the scene.
Lvivska Kopalnya Kava, for example, is a popular coffee complex in Rynok Square.
It consists of a coffee-themed souvenir shop, a section where you can purchase recently mined and milled beans, plus two cafes. One cafe was a charming, light-filled, covered courtyard located deep inside the complex behind the shop.
On weekend nights live music packed the place. I first discovered the inviting courtyard cafe when I was looking for the Lviv Ethnographic Museum. I finally found the stairway access to he museum in the back of the shop next to the cafe. The displays of traditional dress and way of life in the Lviv area was interesting and well done. I found the diversity of this complex intriguing, considering coffee was at its core. 
The young staff at the 
Another time when I came in, a staff person was patiently teaching children from the community, at a table full of colorful frosting, how to decorate cookies, while their Mothers looked on. I loved dropping in frequently, 
One evening was girl’s night out for myself and my four roommates from my hostel. 
Our 
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On weekend evenings Dennis, a Ukrainian guitar player, could be found perched on a stool in front of a widow of the cafe while singing romantic ballads in English, French, and Ukrainian. He never used any sheet music. His music, the charming staff, and traditional desserts offered by the cafe, 
always combined to make a delightful evening for me. Once I expressed my appreciation to Dennis for his multilingual talents. He commented that he will not sing any songs in Russian as it is not popular to do so at this time, due to the current political situation between Ukraine and Russia. 
When
Visiting some of the numerous street markets in Lviv was a joy and a challenge at the same time. They were colorful, fun, insightful into the local culture, and continually challenged my language skills. 
located between my hostel and the Opera House, which I frequently enjoyed. Since Ukrainian independence in 1991, t
Linens and garments for sale were hanging from long ropes. I resisted buying a nice piece of brass ware due to its weight. I would have had to carry it in my backpack, which is already too heavy, until I return home in a few weeks. 
One day Taras, the local young man whom I introduced in a recent Lviv posting, 
invited me to go with him to the Krakivsky Market in the old Jewish Quarter. The famous market occupies the site of the old Jewish cemetery which had been there for centuries, 
and was subsequently destroyed by the Nazis during the Holocaust. The market is located next to the dome-topped, former Jewish Hospital which was built in the 17th century and is now a maternity hospital.
At one of the market entrances I paused in contemplation, aware of the tragedy that befell the once hallowed ground of the Jews 
which I was about to walk upon. 
Some foodstuff and clothing were being sold on open tables and benches. Others were being sold in more up-scale enclosed glass stalls and buildings. 
At one point we came across a most welcome open area in the middle of the marketplace, where we were able to simply stop and take a breather. 
Exploring the labyrinth of the marketplace was an adventure, but I was grateful to have a friend with me who knew his way around.
One morning shortly after my arrival in Lviv, I joined a *Free Walking Tour of Old Town” at the Neptune statue in Rynok. It was a cold, blistery day. Our tour guide Nicole suggested we stop mid-way through our tour for a coffee to warm up. 
The cozy coffee house she introduced us to had been a Jewish shop before the war. At the entrance the post-war plaster had been removed, revealing pre-war inscriptions in Yiddish, Polish and German. 
That afternoon I visited the 
The Golden Rose Synagogue is a UNESCO World Heritage 
Ba
The Baczewski factory was the first factory to launch the mass production of vodka in the world. The family escaped to Austria in 1939. The huge distillery in Lviv was destroyed during WWII. Production resumed in Lviv a few years ago.
I 
Lviv’s historic center is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I stayed right in the 
Fountains with Greek mythological figures dot the square. 
Lviv is a little slice of Europe, more so than the former Soviet capital of Kiev. This is due, in part, to its far western location within Ukraine in Galicia, a historical and geographic region between Central and Eastern Europe.
Rynok Square is always alive with music. One afternoon as I was passing through the square, a young guitar player was performing pop songs in front of 
one of the palace museums 
extended his trumpet out of the window, played a brief tune, waived to the crowd below, then quickly disappeared behind a wooden shutter. If I heard it, I quickly proceeded to the window where he was playing to see if I could get a glimpse of the elusive player. I saw him only twice. This game of cat and mouse is apparently played regularly by many tourists.
I expected to find beautiful organ music in a church 
Due to 
A
I heard another lovey organ recital on a restored 17th century organ at the Museum of Religious History. It had been acquired from the neighboring Dominican Cathedral. 