TRAVELOGUE: Luhansk, industrial city off the beaten path


by Susan Enzweiler
Special to The Ukrainian Weekly

LUHANSK - Just as many Americans know little about Ukraine, many Ukrainian Americans are unfamiliar with the city of Luhansk (population 504,000 in 1995). Located in eastern Ukraine, not far from the Russian border, Luhansk isn't frequented by Americans as are the cities of western Ukraine or the Black Sea coast.

The city is known primarily for its heavy industry. It is also, however, a community of old, stuccoed cottages interspersed among tall apartment buildings and shady parks set amidst the bustling city center. Its people, despite hard times, treat visitors with warm hospitality and abundant generosity. No matter how humble the home, there is always food and drink, jokes and good stories to be shared.

I first learned about Luhansk in 1991 when I struck up a correspondence with a man named Sergiy Mykolajovich Dodonov. We were matched up as pen pals through an organization called Letters for Peace Inc. Its purpose was to promote mutual understanding and peace by establishing personal contact between citizens of the United States and the Soviet Union. Almost a decade later, Sergiy and I are still writing to each other. I also have visited Luhansk twice, in the early summer of 1997 and in September 1999. I've come to admire its people for their resilience, good humor and generous natures.

Luhansk is located at the confluence of the Luhan and the Vilkhivka rivers. The community grew up around the cannon foundry and ammunitions factory founded by Karl Gascoin in 1795. These works supplied Catherine the Great's Black Sea navy. Gascoin's enterprise was one part of a late 18th century industrial trend to exploit the natural resources of the Donets Basin in eastern Ukraine. Today, a monument outside the Luhansk Regional Museum on Shevchenko Street honors Gascoin as the city's founding father.

This munitions works prospered in the early 19th century, particularly during the Napoleonic Wars of the early 1800s. The workers' population grew as industrial development expanded.

In 1882 the villages of Selyshche and Kamianyi Brid combined with other communities to create the city of Luhansk. The county administration moved to this new city that same year. The ciy's population, buoyed by industrial expansion and governmental activity, increased steadily around the turn of the century. It grew from 20,400 in 1897 to 34,000 in 1904, reaching 68,000 on the eve of World War I.

In 1887, Gascoin's old munitions plant was shut down. Almost 100 years old, the factory could not compete with newer, more efficient facilities. Luhansk, however, remained a governmental and an industrial center in the Donets Basin. It was linked by rail to the Dnipro industrial region and by its rivers to the ports at the Sea of Azov. The Russian government reopened the munitions plant in 1895. The following year a Belgian company founded a steam engine factory. This plant was producing over one-fifth of the Russian Empire's steam engines by 1905.

Luhansk continued its dual roles as an industrial city and administative center under the Soviet Union. It became the capital of a new oblast in 1938. The city was most significant for its heavy industry, which included machine building plus the building of diesel locomotives, mining and mineral processing equipment, and motor vehicles. Metalwork, a crankshaft factory, a combustion engine parts factory and a tube-rolling mill augmented Luhansk's heavy industry output. The community also manufactured building materials such as bricks, tiles and reinforced concrete. Luhansk's light industry produced textiles, clothing, footwear and numerous food products. Many of these factories have either cut back severely or closed down in recent years.

Luhansk's citizens, out of necessity, have turned to commerce to survive. Some hawk their wares from stalls in one of the city's three markets and others operate small shops. My friend, Sergiy, who once worked at the tube-rolling mill, had a stall for awhile and also worked as a cabbie. Now he and his brother-in-law own an auto parts store on Frunze Street near the city center. They specialize in parts for Italian cars.

Despite his modest prosperity, neither Sergiy nor any of his friends believe that Ukraine's economic situation will improve in the near future. They point to the fact that many workers have not received their wages in months. In late October 1999, for example, the coal miners of the region went on strike in Luhansk's city center for their back pay, despite a heavy snow. It's hard for an honest man to make a living in this country, Sergiy often says.

Between my visits of June 1997 and September 1999, the economy appeared to have improved slightly and then fallen back again. The housing situation illustrates this point. Major renovations and additions had been undertaken, but then abandoned before completion due to lack of funds. This could be seen throughout the old neighborhoods of Luhansk. In another example, the mistress of a mafia member needed some new parts for her Pontiac Grand Am and asked Sergiy to price them for her. He knew how to order the parts and have them shipped from America, but when he told her how much they would cost (around $700), the deal was canceled. She didn't have the money.

While a sound economy will not guarantee democracy in Ukraine, it would certainly free everyday people to think about government at all levels and perhaps even get involved in bringing about real democratic change. Right now the people of Luhansk do not seem to trust the political process in their country.

When I spoke to some of them about the upcoming elections, most seemed apathetic. Rumors flew about the presidential election being rigged. Americans are used to grousing about their politicians but, in a fledging democracy such as Ukraine, such apathy and negativity are frightening. How can democracy thrive among a people that have no experience with it, in a country with little history of democratic rule? How can people be expected to care about democracy when they live in unfinished houses and winter is coming?

Most amazing to me, people still vote. Sergiy plans to participate in the election, voting no for all the candidates. I feel envious because I don't have that choice here. It must feel great to tell off one's politicians by voting to keep them all out of office. But, ultimately, where does a "no" vote lead?

Despite their hardships, the citizens of Luhansk still support and participate in the cultural life of their city. They can choose to attend a performance at one of three theaters, the Luhansk Ukrainian Musical Drama Theater or the puppet theater, both on Oboronna Street, or the Russian Music and Drama Theater on Kotsiubynsky Street. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend a play. I did, however, visit the Ukrainian-language theater and was impressed with the enthusiasm of its young manager.

As groups of noisy school children swirled around us in the lobby, Mykhail Ivanovych Koshovyi talked excitedly. He declared with a proud, but shy, smile that all Ukrainians living abroad should know of the Luhansk Ukrainian Musical Drama Theater. The 59-year-old theater is well-known in Ukraine for its award-winning productions. Mr. Koshovyi, the manager for the last four years, stressed that his company's repertoire consists of musicals, children's plays and avant-garde interpretations of works by famous playwrights like Shakespeare and Sartre, all performed in the Ukrainian language.

While the plays themselves are untraditional in style, the theater occupies an impressive, classically designed building graced by monumental columns and located on the edge of a park. It was originally constructed as the Culture Palace of Builders and then served as the puppet theater.

Luhansk puppet theater has moved to the city center and is at the corner of Oboronna and Kotsiubynsky streets. Its building is of concrete construction and rather looks like a large box. The starkness of its modern design is offset, however, by whimsical sculptures of storybook characters that adorn both its street elevations.

The Luhansk's Regional Museum is a good place to spend an afternoon. The museum collections begin with the natural history of the Donets Basin and continue with the history of Luhansk. Along the way, one learns about the city's role during the October Revolution and World War II. The region's industrial history is interpreted through several exhibits, including a mock-up of a coal mine. The decorative arts of the region are displayed, too. These include needlework, of course, but also show typical parlors of early 20th century Luhansk families. I was surprised to see an American-made Singer sewing machine in one of the room settings. One of the final exhibits is a table-size model of Luhansk in the future.

Luhansk may lack Kyiv's sophistication or Crimea's romance, but it and its people charm the visitor who spends a little time here. Americans in Ukraine wanting to explore the unbeaten path would do well to visit this city on the eastern border.

I hope to return often as my friendship with Sergiy grows.


Susan Enzweiler is a historic preservationist in Mobile, Alabama.


Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, November 21, 1999, No. 47, Vol. LXVII


| Home Page |