-Mr President! -Hello.
-One question! -I have no time, ask as we go.
Besides roads, what else will money be used for?
I don't know. We have little money and many problems.
So, we'll see.
Will the state pay more attention
to homeless animals?
I promise, after we help homeless people,
we'll help the animals.
And the agricultural industry?
Perhaps. No time, sorry.
Why so few press conferences?
Yanukovich gave more interviews.
The comparison is...
Thanks. It's pedestrian. I promise to speak more.
It's just because of time, or lack of it.
I promise, I'll find a window.
I will speak to all members of the mass media,
and the public, and answer questions.
-Last question. -Yes.
Where is your strange car from?
Ask Tolya, not me.
-Anatoliy, is this your car? -Could you tell us...
-Why do you need this car? -What's in the big trunk?
-Why is it red and not black? -Is it a fire fighter's automobile?
PRESIDENTIAL ADMINISTRATION OF UKRAINE
Well, Sergei Pavlovich.
We reviewed it all.
To repair Kyiv's roads,
you will have one year and one billion.
Are you kidding?
Do I look like a comedian?
Yes.
That is, no.
I wanted to say...
Did I mishear?
-You said one billion? -Exactly.
-Not two, but one? -Exactly, one.
Why?
Shall I explain?
With pleasure.
Here, pay attention.
This...
This is the famous French Millau Viaduct.
A beautiful bridge on a global scale. You like?
-Yes. -Yes?
A building and engineering masterpiece.
Here...
is a more familiar image.
Exquisite.
The Darnytsia Bridge.
It took twice as long to build as the French one.
Hence it cost twice as much.
Do you catch my drift?
Sure.
That is, no. I...
How can we repair
the roads for one billion?
Quickly and properly.
Any more questions?
Yes.
How can we for 500 million--
Quickly, properly and reliably. What don't you understand?
It's not clear! How can I for 100 million--
Quickly, properly, reliably and without a word!
I don't plan to be quiet.
How on earth can I, for 10 million--
If you don't like something, go to...
the president!
I'll go to the president, Nikolaevich,
and you, as usual, can f***k off.
That broken record again! What can I do?
They gave the order.
No money or salaries.
But, kindly do the roads.
F***k you and not the roads!
That's it, I call a strike!
F***k all this s**t!
Good morning, Sergei Viktorovich.
-Morning. What is it this time? -Meaning?
Every "morning, Sergei Viktorovich"
carries confusion, panic and shock.
So, what is it this time?
A roundtable with Arabs,
a Korean delegation, or dinner with Italians?
After you.
Worse. You have a vocational proficiency test.
We have an invitation.
A meeting with the cultural attaché
of the Indian embassy.
Nothing to it.
A classic black suit, tactful conversation
and no jokes, right?
How can I put this?
Not quite.
Jeez!
Indian culture is unique and versatile.
You need to prepare very well
in order to impress the Indian attaché.
Does the attaché have a name?
-Minakshi Shukkhavat. -What?
Minakshi Shukkhavat. Simpler is Miss Shukkhavat.
I wouldn't say that is simpler, but...
Hold up, why Miss? Is she a woman?
She's not just a woman.
Her uncle is the Indian billionaire Mukhammad Shukkhavat.
Charm her and Ukraine gets a lucrative machine building contract.
-How lucrative? -Twenty billion.
I'm listening carefully.
Boris Petrovich, I appreciate you taking the time to see me!
I know how... No, thanks.
...busy you are.
So, let's skip the pomp and formalities
and get right to the point.
It was nice chatting with you.
Sorry you're leaving.
Goodbye.
-Goodbye. -Goodbye.
What are you doing here?
Oh, Vasya! Hi!
How are things? How are you?
Don't avoid my question.
-I'm not avoiding. -So?
See, I just came.
For a cup of coffee.
-Do you want it? -No, you drink it.
-Okay. -What is this?
That's not mine.
He must have forgotten...
-What is it? -Vasya.
It's personal. It has nothing to do with you.
Sveta, lately,
I seem to have a lot to do with your stuff
that later may bite our nation in the ass.
Okay. I decided to start a business.
-What? -Business?
-Yes. -You?
Am I not allowed?
I needed to, perhaps, hand over something to someone...
Don't fool around. What business?
Relax, it's nothing illegal. I will...
sew.
You?
The only time I saw
a needle in your hand,
you were on a drip.
-I won't be sewing! -No?
-Of course not. -Who will?
-For starters, maybe two or three... -Seamstresses?
Factories.
Sveta, a factory?
-Garment factory. -I know, Sveta.
Do you know this is a major enterprise?
Staffing, wages, taxes. Tons of problems.
Where is the start-up capital?
No problem, it's firmly legal.
I'm getting a bank loan.
I've spoken to Olya.
It's dead in the water there, she said.
I have to go to a different bank.
Sveta, even if a bank gives you a loan...
You realize why?
Because you're my sister.
Namaste is a traditional Indian greeting.
Hands are level with the chest
and a light bow of the head.
Don't bow so deeply like you're reaching for the floor.
Palms together level with the chest
and light bow...
If you bow like that, you show a lack of respect.
Palms together at...
No pre-school clapping.
Palms level with the chest
and light bow of the head.
And a light, sincere smile...
Don't smile like that.
Work on the namaste at home.
Following the greeting,
they will place a flower garland on you as a welcoming sign.
What's with the head?
Namaste is first.
The scent is quite unanticipated.
Just don't show it.
For 20 billion, I'm ready to suffer.
Most importantly,
for no reason should you touch Miss Shukkhavat,
nor the rest of the delegation.
Historically,
Indian society is divided
into numerous castes.
So, if you shake the hand of one caste member
after shaking the hand of a different caste member,
you might insult both.
Understood. No touching.
Very good.
Now, let's go over the tea party.
What if I'm off to a good start?
I have a business plan and many orders already.
-Orders? -Yes.
What kind?
We're sewing.
-Sewing what? -Uniforms.
-Uniforms? -Yes.
-For whom? -Everyone.
-The army! -The army?
For the police. For railwaymen.
-Who else? Firemen. -Firemen?
-Athleisure. -For?
For athletes!
Stop fooling around.
You do know that to make uniforms
for state bodies, you have to win a tender?
Who said that you'll win a tender?
I will.
I'm your sister.
That's what I thought.
Again these family ties.
I warned you, no cronyism whatsoever.
-None. -So it begins...
-I'm not starting anything. -Vasya!
I just got the wheels to start turning.
-Turning? -My business!
-Turning? -You have to wreck...
Look, I won't get in your way.
-You've killed my business side. -I have not.
Listen to me, please!
I am warning you.
If I find that even one person
from this office does business with you,
I'll fire them!
Sveta...
Why did the people leave?
Maybe it's closing.
Will you pay for the coffee?
So, Sergei Viktorovich, remember.
What are the features of the Indian tea-drinking ritual?
Don't take or give anything with the left hand.
It's considered to be unclean.
What if I'm a leftie?
-There's 20 billion riding on this. -Fine...
Always use the right hand.
Second: masala tea.
It is an acquired taste.
You'd better not drink it, just look like you've sipped it.
Oksana...
have you been to the Actor's House cafe?
I've never had to.
Well, I drank stuff there
that makes this masala tea a walk in the park.
I still advise you to fake sip the tea.
What do you want to show us?
-What is this? -The president visits a strip club.
He arrives,
so what?
This isn't an ordinary strip club.
It has a wide range of services.
It all depends on the client's desires
and how deep their wallet is.
Well, let's view your live broadcast.
So I see a bachelor entering.
He looks at a broad dancing, and...?
And the broad isn't anything special.
What is this nonsense?
Nowadays, wives order strippers
for their husbands' birthdays.
Hi, Marina.
Vasyl Petrovych!
Why did you come again?
You know very well
why I came again.
I don't want to.
But I want to.
-You can't see, I don't need it! -Okay.
I'm not interested!
You're not alone.
-Interesting. -I don't want to.
I want to!
Lord, find someone else!
-I won't! -A younger and dumber one.
I don't want a younger and dumber one!
-Not for me. -Right, Vasyl Petrovych.
Who would have thought?
Look, why is he sitting?
I don't want to look for another.
I don't need this, understand?
You don't understand how much you need this.
-I don't want to. -Earlier you did.
In eighth class.
Do you remember how you wanted to? Did I force you?
Did I run after you?
Did I ask you?
You willingly decided on your own
and stayed after class.
Marina, honey...
-Are you normal? -I am.
Come on, consent.
No, Marina.
Do not consent.
Don't. They give more for rape.
If she is underage, you'll get a bonus.
Vasya will get...
between 10 and 15 years.
All the pupils left, but you stood out.
Everyone left, not you.
You begged me. I couldn't tear you away.
You wanted so much
to study.
Why did you quit history? For what? For all this?
You could get an honors degree.
What would I do with it?
History class?
I don't get it.
What is this?
I think, we need...
Sorry, gentleman.
Who knew...
You realize,
Krivitsky, there won't be a bonus.
I am Savitsky.
You are stupid, Savitsky.
Go and work.
Or you'll end up like Krivitsky.
We need solid dirt.
STOP
What the hell is this?
What is this called?
Asphalt doesn't like to rush.
We're working on it. Estimates, bids, etc.
Look, Mister Etc. What are you saying?
-When will work begin? -The work has started.
Preparatory work.
We bought new machinery,
a clinker, bitumen and Portland cement.
Yes, he did buy many things.
A new Vaybach.
Maybach.
A new Royal Martin yacht.
Royal Marine.
And a new Harley Davidson.
I am sure that you,
as the new infrastructure minister,
won't repeat the mistakes of your predecessor.
Of course not. Don't worry.
I'll take them into account.
How much?
"How much"?
Well...
Your share.
I think that you,
as the new infrastructure minister,
won't let me down.
Vasyl Petrovych, I'll do all that I can.
In summary, the new minister
bought a London penthouse,
a sizable villa in Spain...
and a small castile in Scotland.
Castle.
How did I say it?
You said it in the way that I have to explain to journalists.
-Explain what? -Your words!
Go back to work.
On my way.
I hope that you, as the new infrastructure minister,
will take seriously
the responsibilities entrusted to you.
Certainly, Vasyl Petrovych.
I can't wait to start.
He started well.
A posh suburban house,
a flat in downtown Kyiv,
a Maserati GranTurismo
and a Monterey speed boat.
Did I say everything correctly?
This time, yes.
Katya, I no longer hope,
I simply pray to God that you,
as the new infrastructure minister--
-Vasyl Petrovych, I'll f-- -Katya, don't.
Mr President.
Don't worry. You know me.
I won't let you down. I'll pave the roads for you!
Better than in America!
In America?
Yes, and a house in Hawaii.
A flat in London.
Two Mercedes.
Five bars of gold.
Ten Hermes purses.
An exclusive Fendi jumpsuit
that is worth $10,000.
Katya broke all the records for greed.
Why does she need it all?
It's not hers, it's her daughter's.
Katya has a separate list.
Lord...
There won't be roads.
Namaste.
Accept the flowers
as a symbol of deep respect.
You have nice dancing in India.
Beautiful moves.
In Ukraine, we also have similar dancing.
-Please have a seat. -Yes.
Thank you.
Right hand.
-Well-- -The hosts speak first.
I hope that during the course of today's meeting,
Ukraine and India will reach a new level of relations.
Here's to you!
Namaste.
Firstly, hello.
Please, young man.
My name is Nikolai Griniuk of Kyiv Otradniy.
Nice to meet you.
I want to ask
about the razing of dilapidated buildings.
Raze the Otradniy district?
Not exactly.
How will resettlement be solved...
So?
To national love!
...in homes needing repair?
We'll provide
new housing.
A new promise, Vasyl Petrovych!
And the roads?
Your sarcasm, Yana, is appreciated.
As you know,
this is a 25 year problem.
I'm not the first,
to try to address the roads with his team.
This problem was those who managed this process.
Are you trying to avoid responsibility?
I'm not avoiding responsibility.
I'm giving an explanation.
Why don't you show us and not tell us?
The government always tells,
but has no roads to show.
It's as if you get an injection after the election.
Any decent Ukrainian, once elected,
becomes a shrewd, weasel-like,
thievish... yokel.
You think
he became a shrewd, weasel-like, thievish yokel?
Or was he a yokel to begin with?
Are people born yokels?
I don't think Ukrainians are born yokels.
I think we are all born Ukrainians.
So, once we are born, it means we deserved it.
We, our parents, or ancestors. No difference.
This person was also born a Ukrainian.
A small, plump,
pink-cheeked Ukrainian at 3,5 kilograms.
The question is,
how do these three kilograms
turn into a 100 kilogram yokel?
How does this happen?
I'll explain.
We are to blame.
People like you, Yana, like me.
All of us. We are to blame.
It starts at birth.
With a bribe at the maternity ward.
It's a must.
Pay the doctor. No bribe, go back inside.
Then we bring the baby home,
where it's still a Ukrainian.
Once it starts to think, it becomes a yokel.
He first sees his dad.
Dad is sitting watching TV, of course, and says:
"These assholes are to blame for everything,
these bastards, these damn politicians!"
While saying this, he counts the 200 hryvnias
he got at a rent-a-rally yesterday
protesting against these assholes and putrid lawmakers.
If dad doesn't, someone will in his place.
Why should someone else take
the stolen money?
"Why not me?", dad reasons.
The baby takes mental note.
So, our Ukrainian gradually...
becomes like his dad.
He turns into a yokel. Gradually.
Not all is lost? Right?
All is lost! There's an uncle.
The uncle and aunt work at state agencies.
Where do they enroll the boy?
Where? In school!
They enroll him in a fancy school. No.
A ritzy,
a particularly ritzy school.
So the boy graduates with honors.
They all picnic on the Dnepr River.
His report card shows straight A's.
Indeed. Why not? Shish kabobs and cognac.
And the rubbish? Yokels will clean up.
In this elated mood we enroll in a university.
Everyone pitches in to enroll him.
Where do we go upon graduation?
To the river. Why so much trash?
Why is there garbage everywhere?
A sign reads: "Do not litter!"
So who littered here?
Why won't these yokels pick up after themselves?
In a good mood,
in his new Honda, that was a graduation gift,
our half-yokel, half-Ukrainian goes cruising
in the Kyiv night,
where there are no roads.
He couldn't give a shit, pardon me,
about the people sleeping at this time
after working.
Or the mother who works two jobs
to feed her child,
who she just rocked to sleep.
He whirls to the future! It isn't far.
At 20 or 25, he becomes a lawmaker.
And our Ukrainian completely transforms
into a full-fledged yokel.
He will be fine.
However...
his children will study in Switzerland.
Not here, away from the yokels.
He'll eschew the Dnepr River.
He shat there already.
He'll go to the Maldives to avoid the yokels.
He'll buy a flat in London,
to avoid the yokels.
Removed from all this.
This isn't mine.
Herein lies our enigmatic...
yokel soul.
Are there...
any more questions...
my fellow Ukrainians?
Translated by Mark P. Raczkiewycz