On Ukrainians

This is not a blog entry about Ukrainian culture or “the Ukrainian people”; I am not comfortable writing in such sweeping terms. However, this is a blog entry about Ukrainian people – at least, about some of them. I wanted to write a little something to introduce my friends and family back home to the people who surround me in Chernihiv (although I won’t be identifying any particular individuals).

Below are a few lines that might best be thought of like impressionist sketches: they are quick glimpses of different moments and different people that came to mind today as I thought about what I wanted to share from my past few weeks in Ukraine. My writing here is neither thorough nor analytical. I just hope that after you read, you can imagine – and feel a little closer to – the people who are now my friends, family, and community.

On Ukrainians:

They might think you’re crazy if you drink tea without eating any sweets or baked goods along with it. Or they might not; maybe they’ve just learned that resistance is futile when baba wants to feed you.

They love their dogs: athletic German Shepherds, immaculately groomed Yorkies, old chubby chihuahuas, little mystery-mutts... You’ll see people walking their dogs around town, and waiting patiently in neighborhood parks while their dogs take care of “business.”

Or maybe they prefer cats.

These dogs are actually strays, because I have't yet gotten up the nerve to ask random strangers if I can take pics of their pets. Ukrainians are working to manage stray dog populations. In some cities, strays get ID tags, and are usually spayed or neutered by agencies working on the issue.
For pictures of household pets, I highly recommend following the #dogsofukraine hashtag on Instagram! 

They feed the pigeons in the park, and plant flowers in front of the church. Or maybe their baba does that. Or maybe, these days, they just go to the park to play poker and smoke with the guys, and they are too old to have a baba.

They might confess to you their weakness for fine cheeses. Unless, of course, they prefer to go non-dairy and make raw vegan tarts of the kind one gets in the US for $10 a serving at Whole Foods. Or maybe they really couldn’t care less about fine cheeses and raw vegan tarts; they’re too busy planting this year’s crop of beets and potatoes.

They probably won't let you leave the house without your daily apple. 

They can teach you how to say “selfie stick” in Russian or Ukrainian if you find yourself wanting to learn (you probably will, while taking selfies with them). Although it’s also possible they’re the type to stick with a landline, and spend more time talking on the phone with friends than taking selfies with them.

They dance zouk and bachata in the town square. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe they’re former ballroom champions, and they prefer to dance the cha-cha-cha while telling tales of their glory days. Or maybe they don’t dance at all – they’re content just watching and then putting it on YouTube.

They can throw themselves fully into the most lighthearted of endeavors even as they solemnly and tragically mourn their dead. They will laugh and cry on the same day, because the war does not stop the festivals, and the festivals do not hide the war.
Have a look at this article for pictures of a remembrance ceremony that preceded a major city festival. My pictures were unfortunately lost when my phone was damaged. 

They’ll invite you over for a backyard barbecue on holiday weekends. Or if there’s no backyard, maybe you’ll head out for a picnic in the park, where they will make daytime campfires and set out bottles of wine on a tablecloth adorning an old tree-stump. Or maybe you’ll just people-watch, and admire all the dogs as they walk by.

I am required to say, "the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ukrainian Government.”