Next morning outside the hotel two ancient sisters in long overcoats, one tall, one short, stand on the pavement singing folk songs in a cappella harmony.  They sing simply with profound passion and sadness, and the tall one proffers a tiny plastic cup that she hastily empties into a coat pocket the moment she hears a coin fall in, for both sisters are blind.  Further down the street a solitary four-year-old girl sits begging.  Everyone seems desperate for a few hryvnia in a blank-faced, resigned way.