T
oday is the 56th anniversary of the invasion of Soviet Union and the bombing of Minsk, Kiev, Lviv and other cities It is not celebrated with parades, but remembered as a day of grief.Victor and I prepared to depart from Chernihiv. The troika--Dr. Vasiliy Pasechnik, Anna Yakubova and Natalya Zenchenko brought breakfast to the flat: hard boiled eggs and salad. Toasts started immediately. It was only 8:45 am. Toasting is an art form and it is an opportunity to express thoughts one would not normally reveal in conversation.
Victor and I determined from the outset to keep any organization small and simple in order to be effective, but the unavoidable happened. We have been made members of a committee "The Citizen's Organization called Revival Council" chaired by the first vice-mayor of Chernihiv Oleh Belousov. Next stop: the Politburo!
Eventually we are on our way, Dr. Pasechnik drove his Lada down the 140 kilometers straight flat Chernihiv-Kiev highway. He said the distribution of fuel is controlled by the Mafia. Two cars flash their headlights at us to let us know that there are police ahead. We drove carefully past a policeman who was trying to look casual standing by an unmarked car. Smart mice, dumb cat. A large dog laid out with its guts mashed across the road. Forlorn peasants sat by the roadside trying to sell potatoes in a bucket, but no one seems to stop.
We stopped at the oblast between Chernihiv and Kiev, the halfway point to meet friends who would drive us the rest of the journey. It is traditional to stop at the border and open a bottle of Odessa champagne and a box of chocolates. Farewells were toasted.
On the other side stood about 20 men and women in traditional red costume and a large yellow and pale blue flag of Ukraine and a flag of Slovakia.
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Also 20 men in white tuxedos waited to strike up the band to greet the convoy of the Minister of Culture of Slovakia due any second. Two big men in dark suits who were officials, but looked like bouncers waited with grim faces. We took our leave of Dr. Pasechnik and were guided into a dark Audi Quattro Automatic with a stern chauffeur. We took off using the outer lane as a runway and reached 160 kilometer per hour in seconds scattering all traffic in our way. The police did not exist. The flashing lights of the escort of the Minister of Culture sped past in the opposite direction and we glided into the ancient city of Kiev.
Victor and I separated, Victor to another luncheon while our hosts guided me around the city. First, to St. Andrews Street, a colourful busy market along part of 4000 meters of cobblestones unchanged for 1000 years and overlooked by the massive green-domed church of St. Andrews; then on to the cathedral of St. Sophia with its huge Wedgwood-like bell tower topped by a golden dome. Inside were 1000 year-old murals of the saints which could be touched. Outside wild city dogs basked in the sun, and an elderly minstrel with a mop of white hair and drooping mustache sang gently playing a bandura [harp on a sounding board] under a tree. Finally, to the first building ever built in Kiev, the church of St. Volodymer the quick tempoed church bells were ringing with a swing when slowly out came the white-bearded dignified figure of the metropolitan (archbishop) escorted with great reverence by men in gowns of gold brocade. The crowd crossed themselves repeatedly.
While I was on the tour Victor was being spoken to by people who need western contacts who could provide or lead to those who would provide capital equipment for businesses. This is vital for getting any kind of forward economic movement going in Ukraine. They promise to help us with almost any other aspects of a business as long as there is interest on our side to entertain and provide just about the impossible.
We all gathered at the home of friends This was a third floor flat in a residential district comfortably furnished with some originals by a well-known contemporary Ukrainian artist. The beautifully laid table indicated the feast to come so carefully prepared no doubt over several days. Toasting began. By tradition the first two in quick succession, the third to the ladies then toast as the moment arose and finally one to the horse. Ukrainians say the truth is in the wine. One of the guests described with passion the desperate situation for women with cancer of the breast where one major city had one tomogram which does not work. They have the qualified staff but no diagnostic equipment such as a mammogram. The desire is to establish a mammological centre based on western standards because at present conditions are really bad. Ukraine has a population of 52 million. A woman dies every 35 minutes of cancer of the breast or 50 deaths every day. A patient with cancer of the breast is found every five minutes. The incidence of cancer of the breast was increasing before 1986 but has increased since 2.27 times. All present stressed the seriousness of their plight.
Many artesian wells one thousand feet deep have been sunk to overcome the pollution of the River Dnieper whose waters are dangerous.
Some humanitarian aid has been corrupt. When three containers came into the country one occasionally has been found to be filled with alcohol and cigarettes. One container contained even a car surrounded by and hidden by aid boxes.
Short term gain by individuals has led to long-term poverty for nearly all. The economic crisis is being addressed and the law of the land strengthened. It is evident that law and economics are linked, just as honesty and integrity are linked to prosperity.
At 8:12 pm Victor Pavliy from Mission Nazareth who earlier that day flew from Uzhgorod, Victor and I boarded the Black Sea Express Night Sleeper to cross the north-south width of Ukraine to Kherson. Our hosts waved us off.
NOTE: The telephone lines to the home we're in Kherson have been stolen for their copper, hence the delayed transmission of this message.