I never dreamed of going to Ukraine, nor was it a childhood wish. Part of my family simply ended up there so, to reconnect with them, I decided to spend several days in Kiev.
French history books and common media always depicted Eastern Europe with colors of turmoil and poverty. The post-communist era supposedly left the whole area in shambles, leaving the population to deal with unemployment and the absence of infrastructure. Russia’s recent invasion would have furthermore transformed part of Ukraine into a battlefield, digging craters in the streets, cracking buildings open and endangering any potential visitors. This is the picture my mind subconsciously made whenever the country was mentioned.
To my amazement while strolling around, Kiev looked thriving, yet preserving its cultural inheritance. Skies were void of the scent of pollution, trees were legion and the streets were clean. What an upgrade to Italian cities or even French suburban areas ! While keeping in mind the small sample of Ukraine I visited was the richest, it left me the feeling someone cared about its image and the well-being of the citizens. In this spirit, cars weren’t allowed to drive downtown on weekends. A comity also improvised daily choreographies, combining music and fountain jets. It all reminded me of Berlin’s atmosphere, an impression strengthened by the cobblestone streets. Although, this illusion fell when entering the buildings of said streets. where common areas are left neglected. No one took the elevator by fear of a malfunction, lead pipes were still common and the balcony outside the window hang only thanks to the metal rods embedded in the concrete.
The first day was a tour around town and its numerous orthodox churches. I had never entered one before, as this aspect of Christianity is absent from Western Europe. It focuses strongly on icons, so all temples were lavishly decorated. Sheets of seemingly real gold surrounded paintings of the holy family and the saints. People would line up to the portraits covered by a sheet of glass, say their prayers in confidence and kiss the protective layer. They then grabbed the rag hung above and cleaned the glass for the next penitent. Small stores were set up near the entrance, to sell sets of candles, rosaries and icons, without disrupting the inherent silence of these sanctuaries. Nearby were newly erected monuments to the dead of the 2014 Ukrainian revolution.
I got to learn more about local history and interesting anecdotes in the course of the next two days, for example the color red of Kyiv University. It turns out it was ordered by the Tsar to remind the students of the blood spilled by soldiers during World War I, the price for other young people to keep studying. Or also how an actor portraying the president on local television defeated him in the elections to become the current leader of Ukraine.
I wouldn’t recommend the local food though. Main culinary specialties include pickled vegetables, potato cake with sour cream and bortsch, a beet and meat soup, which I could not appreciate to its full potential.
