FACES AND PLACES

by Myron B. Kuropas

In Ukraine, little changes mean a lot

Two years ago Lesia and I visited Ukraine. We flew Air Ukraine to Kyiv. It was not a happy flight. Boarding was not by rows but rather on an "everyone for him/herself" basis. The flight attendants acted as if they were doing us a favor by traveling with us. They were older, spoke Russian among themselves, and rarely smiled. The food was poor. The seats were hard. The fare was low so we didn't complain. Much.

We took an overnight train to Ternopil, where we were met by Bohdan, my cousin. As he drove us from Ternopil to Berezhany, to Chernivtsi, to Ivano-Frankivske, to Sokal, to Lviv, gasoline was practically impossible to find. Resourceful as ever, Bohdan had "friends" in every major city and was able to fill the gasoline cans he kept in the trunk. Riding in the backseat we realized that if, God forbid, anyone hit us from the rear, we were toast.

A few positive notes. Everywhere we traveled, there were private homes being built on the outskirts of towns. Bricks were piled in some places indicating future construction. Churches were being renovated, roadside chapels built. People in the villages had little homesteads with livestock and gardens.

Lviv was stifling hot. It hadn't rained for over a month. A smoky pall hung over Lviv because of the spontaneous turf fires that were erupting around the city. There was dust everywhere. On the trams. On the streets. In the homes. Food was scarce. Water was at a premium and was shut off at regular intervals during the day. Streets were in terrible shape with potholes and deep depressions everywhere. Old women were begging in front of churches and along main thoroughfares. St. George's Cathedral was in need of repair. A sense of helplessness was pervasive.

There were Mexican soap operas and class-B U.S. films on television, all dubbed in Russian. The most informative news programs were broadcast from Moscow.

I was in Kyiv last year and the situation seemed to be improving. There were visible changes here and there. Little sidewalk cafes were springing up and the mood seemed more upbeat.

This year Lesia and I returned to Lviv via Air Ukraine. The seats were still hard and the fare was still low. But the service was excellent. The flight attendants were younger. They spoke Ukrainian among themselves. They smiled. A lot. It was evident they wanted to please and it wasn't easy given the number of people. It was a full, elbow-to-elbow flight. The food was as good as on any American airline.

This time, everywhere Bohdan drove us, from Lviv, to Brody, to Pochayiv, to Kremenets, to Dubno, to Mezhurich, to Ostrih, to Rivne and back to Lviv, we found gasoline. Even better. There were gasoline stations being built along the road. Private home-building had expanded greatly. There were new or renovated churches in almost every town we passed through. We even spied road repair crews along the way.

Ostrih Academy had come a long way since my visit a year ago. There were newer, brighter classrooms. A suite had been built for visiting professors. A new students' dining room had been added to the facility. And, most important of all, Ostrih was officially awarded academy status by President Leonid Kuchma. It was obvious that the dedicated, hard-working staff, led by Rector Pasichnyk, was turning things around at a rapid clip.

Lviv was still stifling hot. But food was no longer scarce. Even bananas and oranges are available most of the time. Street vendors were everywhere along the main thoroughfares. Small shops had opened on side streets. Streets were being repaired. There was scaffolding within St. George's Cathedral, which was being renovated. Water was less scarce. Television offerings had improved. There were more Ukrainian programs and the Ukrainian news hour was good. CNN News was dubbed in Ukrainian. Streets were under repair.

There was much discussion about the proposed new constitution on the radio, on television and on the street. UNA/UNSO organized a demonstration by the Shevchenko statue in Lviv one evening during our stay. Two young men stood on the platform holding their red-and-black flags while another debated the pros and cons of the constitution. As I understood him, his people don't believe Ukraine needs a constitution. England and Israel don't have constitutions, he argued, so why should Ukraine? Besides, he added, even in America many actions of the government are unconstitutional. When Americans believed President John F. Kennedy was becoming too chummy with the Soviets, for example, he was assassinated, the young man declared. I was tempted to take the microphone to counter that statement as well as other distortions he mouthed, but I resisted. It's their country. I'm a visitor.

Lesia and I met with over 200 teachers in Ostrih and Rivne. We discussed life in America, the teaching profession in general and the meaning of democracy. We discovered that they had some misperceptions about the United States, that their teaching problems - disruptive children, uncooperative parents, a sense of moral indifference - were similar to ours, and that they were committed to democracy in Ukraine. The overwhelming majority believed that political changes in Ukraine were moving much too slowly. When asked what they would do if they had evidence that a government official was corrupt, most answered that they would take the information to the local newspaper. Most, however, didn't think the information would be published or, if it was published, that anything would happen.

At the same time there seemed to be more old women begging in the streets and the high school students with whom we met found it difficult to make choices regarding the subjects they wanted to talk about. Maybe it was us. Or maybe they just weren't accustomed to making choices.

We pointed out that one can't compare Ukraine to the United States. The American democratic tradition goes back to the Magna Carta and has been fully functioning for over 200 years. Even then we've made some major mistakes. In contrast, Ukraine has been a nation-state since the day before yesterday.

During our discussion with students, we pointed to the changes we had seen in the last three years. They couldn't appreciate them because, to them, they're barely visible. It's like a child growing up before parents who see the child everyday. It's only when someone who hasn't seen the child for a while comes to visit that changes are duly noted. And so it is with Ukraine. Changes are happening, and changes - no matter how little - mean a lot.

Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, June 23, 1996, No. 25, Vol. LXIV

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