Hi, Mike (again)
I was there is '79/'80. I couldn't convince people I wasn't from Poland, which led to some very surreal conversations. Also was told I once couldn't go into a Beriozka because I was Russian. Had a little run-in with the security services in Kiev, who assumed (quite wrongly, I asssure you) that I was a Russian prostitute.
I had high cheekbones in those days (now not nearly so pronounced); eyes still green.
I can remember galloping from the classroom down to the bread shop to make it in time (they loved to slam the door in your face), and the caviar for breakfast.The only jam was plum, and they hadn't worked out how to transport peas from Moscow.
Happy days!
Did you have to learn 'Ivushka'?