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Many years back when my husband, was the head of the international marketing department in a major US company, the Ukrainian Embassy in Manhattan invited us to a formal reception. The party was in the honor of their visiting president.
At the reception, I found the atmosphere to be warm and friendly; as the smiling, middle-aged president and his curly-haired, plump wife went around greeting the guests.

The moment the Ambassador set his eyes on my husband; he opened his arms as if he was going to embrace him. It was apparent that he knew him quite well. Then, after greeting each other, my husband introduced me to him and his wife.

As the president began asking us questions, while his wife kept on smiling with me, my husband asked the president, “I know you have a busy program during your visit Sir, but do you think you can find time to dine with simple people like us?”
The Ukrainian president retorted, “Of course my friend! My wife and I would love to have lunch with you tomorrow and your family. That’s the only time I can spare.”

“Oh Great…! I’ll give our address to one of your people,” Caro exhorted, looking excited, as my heart skipped a bit.

“Oh God, help…!” I told myself. I thought how we were going to prepare things within such a short time to entertain an important political figure.

That night, I spent the rest of my time at the Embassy feeling anxious. Then when we left that tortuous party, I turned to my husband and exploded, “Are you crazy? How can we entertain the president of Ukraine and his wife within such a short notice?”

He said, “Don’t worry. I know exactly what these people like. I’ll go to Zabar’s and buy a ton of cold cuts. Then, I’ll go to the supermarket and get a big bucket of ice cream. I promise you that we’ll be fine.”
However, I hardly closed my eyes that night. I was so worried that we were going to ridicule ourselves.

In the morning, my husband went to Zabar’s to buy cold cuts, and our son and his fiancé took a taxi to Petrossian’s in Manhattan to get some caviar. Our daughter, in turn, went to the bakery, while I began putting order to our apartment and setting the table.

I had hardly started setting the table, when the doorbell rang.

I looked through the peephole to see who it could be and noticed a dark haired man with dark glasses.
“Shall I open the door or not?” I asked myself.
Then I remembered that the door attendants twenty three stories down would not allow anybody to come into the building if they did not trust the person. Therefore, I opened the door and found three other black attired men with greased dark hair and glasses staring at me. The fellow standing in front showed me a badge and said, “Secret police.”

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, feeling uneasy.

“We have to check your residence before the Ukrainian President’s visit.”

Thus, they checked every nook and cranny in our apartment, before they said, “Everything’s all right,” and left.
Apparently, the whole time that the Ukrainian President was at our place, downstairs at the entrance of our building, there were police and security guards waiting by his black bulletproof vehicle.

After the president and his wife left, having enjoyed their lunch and a large container of ice cream, I dropped my exhausted body into an armchair and took a long and deep breath.

“See,” my husband, uttered. “It wasn’t as bad as you were worried about…!”

“No, you are right, but I can’t understand how they could empty a full container of ice cream.”

Later, when I visited The Soviet Union with my husband, I learned why the president and his wife gulped down the whole container of ice cream. The reason was that in the Soviet Union, it was impossible to find good ice cream.