DOUBLE EXPOSURE: In through the out door (02/13/05)

DOUBLE EXPOSURE

by Khristina Lew

In through the out door

The Orange Revolution has prompted many of us to revisit what it means to be Ukrainian. In this space we've explored what it means to be American with Ukrainian roots, or Ukrainian newly immigrated to America. What about those of us who were born in the United States to Ukrainian parents and now live in Ukraine?

I spoke to four such Ukrainian American Ukrainians in October of last year, before the revolution. They, too, struggle with their identity.

All four were raised with a love for their ancestral homeland. All four took part in Ukrainian diaspora activities. All four came to Ukraine and had their perceptions of Ukraine, and themselves, turned upside down.

Peter Charchalis began working with Ukraine in 1998 and came to Kyiv for good in 2000 with a large multinational corporation. He is currently with the Western NIS Fund. He says he was raised to believe in a Ukraine that was "some sort of legend". For example, he said "I was never led to understand the poverty of Ukraine - I was always taught that Ukraine was a large wealthy country that had been subjugated."

"Ukrainians are hard workers," he says. "I drive around the country a lot, and when I leave for a trip at 6 in the morning, I see many people in the field. When I return at 8 at night, they're still out there. They work very hard to eke out a living. It hurts me to see that."

Mr. Charchalis speaks of the spirituality of the country and the fact that Ukrainians help one another out a great deal. He is disappointed, however, by the lack of nationalist pride. "Nationalism," he says, "is a dirty word here. There is definitely an identity crisis among Ukrainians. It is only in the past 15 years that Ukrainians are starting to form a national identity outside of western Ukraine. But forming a national idea takes time," he adds.

Lydia Matiaszek, who, with her husband, Petro, has lived and worked in Kyiv for 10 years, is most struck by how diverse Ukraine is. She, too, has traveled extensively throughout the country with her jobs with CARITAS, IREX and USAID, and recalls a visit to a village in the Sumy Oblast named Sontse (Sun) to illustrate her point: "The people in the village sang Ukrainian songs but spoke Russian in everyday life. The stereotypes have changed. Sure the Ukrainian language is an issue, but I have met a lot of Russian-language speakers who are better patriots and better Ukrainians than Ukrainian speakers. Just as I have met Ukrainians in the east who are very positive about Ukraine and Ukrainians in the west who are very cynical."

Mrs. Matiaszek emphasizes that the east/west divide in Ukraine "is hyped - people tend to fulfill that prophecy," she says. "The fact of the matter is that Ukrainians still identify with the same culture."

When Borys Gudziak first arrived in Ukraine in 1988 "it was not the romantic, idyllic homeland of my parents and grandparents but a complex, extremely fascinating society." He says that people were "passionately thirsty for the Good News, the Gospel, and very hungry for the authentic presentation of its history, which for an aspiring priest and professional historian was a very attractive world." He was ordained a priest in Lviv in 1998, 10 years after first coming to Ukraine, and today is rector of the Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv.

The Rev. Gudziak says that in the early days "religion was the forbidden fruit" and people were incredibly interested in Bibles. Today many Ukrainians do not go to Church - the statistics are especially low in central and eastern Ukraine, he says - but he is moved by the "spiritual journeys of people looking for accompaniment."

Journalistic curiosity and love of her ancestral roots first brought Marta Kolomayets to Ukraine in the mid-1980s. Ms. Kolomayets opened the Kyiv Press Bureau of The Ukrainian Weekly in 1991 and currently works with the U.S.-Ukraine Foundation.

"I saw this great love my grandparents had for Ukraine, and if it was important to them, it was important to me. When I first began traveling to Ukraine I saw that these were normal people with everyday problems living in a closed society without democratic principles, openness and the ability to see the outside world. These were opportunities that America had offered me, and I wanted to see that for Ukraine," she says.

Since her time in Ukraine, Ms. Kolomayets has seen the creation of a middle class. "People are more open, curious - some have seen the world. I feel that Ukraine is really part of Europe, and that it's the only direction it can go."

So are our compatriots Ukrainians or Americans? Mr. Charchalis says that in a strange way, he no longer fits into either society. "When I'm in Ukraine I feel very American, and when I'm in the U.S., a Ukrainian. I feel much more of a foreigner when I return to the U.S. because I've changed, as has the U.S."

Mrs. Matiaszek says that "with each year I become more of a tourist in the U.S. and in the diaspora. I no longer identify with the same priorities [as the diaspora]. People's good intentions aren't always focused in the right direction. Ukraine is very different from what we've imagined."

The Rev. Gudziak echoes Mrs. Matiaszek's sentiment: "today, with all its paradoxes, Ukraine is changing, growing, and needs to speak for itself. We may not always like how Ukraine's position is articulated, but it is unrealistic to neglect contemporary Ukraine's social and cultural expression."

Ms. Kolomayets finds herself in a unique position: "I can't be considered American any more, or Ukrainian. I've accepted it. I can live in two cultures and, because of that, I can promote what is good about America and what is good about Ukraine - as well as criticize both."

We define ourselves in the context in which we live. Sometimes we are Ukrainians. Sometimes Americans. Sometimes both.

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