Driving all over Ukraine

This is just an intermediary short blog to let you know what has happened to us. Yes, our itinerary says we were in Odesa until this morning and we do have a partial blog written about our visit to that fascinating city. But we were unable to post it as we lost our Internet connection last night and were unable to finish and upload it before we left for Kamanyets-Podolsky early this morning.

Now we're in K-P, but instead of the trip taking about 8 hours by car, it took us almost 11 hours with pit stops and a lunch break, so we just arrived this evening about 21h00. The trip was very long, although comfortable in an air conditioned van driven by a driver, but we arrived very very late.

Unfortunately, it is a long, and not so interesting, story about how the roads are terrible, it rained, we got lost and had to backtrack due to bad directions about a closed bridge, etc. etc. Thus we lost over 2 hours of precious time today.  By the time we got into our hotel room (small but clean and very well equipped), grabbed some dinner in the dining room, and got ready for bed it was late. In fact, too late for me to even be writing this.

So, it's time to get some sleep as we need to be up tomorrow morning by 7:30 pm, have breakfast and be out the door by 9:00 am in order to see something of Kamanyets-Podolsky before we hit the road again.

No time for photos, but just a big good night to you all. Of course, you will probably not read this until tomorrow, but let's just blame that on the 7 hour time difference.

Exhausted but having a good time!

Marla, Yuri, and Lev

A series of fortunate events

Today, I'll play catch-up as we haven't had an Internet connection that would allow us to work on the blog for days. Tomorrow, Yuri & Lev will write about our enjoyable visit to Pervomaysk with family, while I will try to capture some of our experiences in Zhabokrich.

The thriving metropolis that is Zhabokrich

On Friday, Alex Dunai, our guide, drove us from our hotel in Tulchin (ending up at that hotel is another story in itself... but I digress) to Kryzhopil, and then the eleven kilometers to Zhabokrich. I was eager to follow the same road between the towns that family members would have used as they made the regular trip between the two villages. As my Bubi Dora once told me, there was (and still is) a forest standing along part of the trip. She recounted how the wooded area was scarier when they traveled at night as there was always the possibility of people hiding in the woods who could attack their carts without warning. Most of the other roads in Podolia, the region where the two towns are located, run through huge farm fields rather than woods.

The spooky, scary woods know all of your secrets and disapprove.

Fun fact: Zhabokrich (or Zhabokritch as some Jews spell it), means frog's croak and, unbeknown to me, is pronounced like Zhabo-krich, with the sound Zh like in Doctor Zhivago. Who knew?

The stereotypical Ukrainian villager on the sign represents the rich Jewish history of Zhabokrich

Zhabokrich was the village where my grandparents Leib Spektor and Dora Krafchek were born. In later years both the Spektor and Krafchek families would move to Kryzhopil, because the town provided greater opportunities for employment and easier access to the relatively new railroad that could take them to Odesa. But Zhabokrich was the town that my Bubi remembered fondly for its pond (where the frogs croaked), for its hills, for their house with its fruit-bearing trees that they used to make jams, and for the village square where there was a busy market every second Sunday.

We did not hear a single frog. Unfortunately, there were no refunds forthcoming.

Much of Zhabokrich has changed. The market square now contains a small restaurant and small stores, but many buildings remain from early in the last century. When we first arrived we didn't know the location of the old Jewish area of town or the Jewish cemetery. Once again a series of fortuitous events (and some serious sleuthing on the part of Alex) gave us information that we had not had prior to this visit.

Panoramic view of Zhabokrich (former) market square

First off, Lev saw a large menorah at a distance when we were in the 'centre' of town; it turned out to be the site of one of two monuments to the mass killings in Zhabokrich in July 1941 and in 1944. We visited both sites and said Kaddish.

The memorial plaque for the mass grave in the former market square

Another mass grave memorial, another large menorah, another sad reminder of what once was

Afterwards, Alex spoke to some people who were walking in town and learned that there was an elderly Ukrainian woman still lived in town who used to work for a Jewish families. We went in search of her and after some door-knocking met her daughter. While her mother could no longer remember much, the daughter was able to recollect some of the things her mother had told her. She pointed out where many of the Jews had lived, and where some had died in WWII, and in some cases even remembered their family names!

Pictured: Not the house they live in. This is/was probably an old Jewish house from the 19th century

We were also surprised, and thrilled, when she pointed out that a brick synagogue built in the early 1900s was still standing. It isn't used anymore, given that there are no Jews still living in Zhabokrich, but the fact that it is still standing (although somewhat hidden by additional structures) was a wonderful sight!

It was probably used by the Soviets as a garage for servicing machinery

As we prepared to leave to look for the Jewish cemetery, our friend came back out of her house and told us that she remembered where the Carpenter's house had been. That house was the one where the Spektor family lived in Zhabokrich. The Krafchek's lived next door (which side we are not sure).  Imagine our excitement! Then, to our dismay, once again,we learned that the house had been demolished in the 1980s. It seems we have been doomed to see only empty lots. Apparently, however, the house had a beautiful big porch and was well-known in the community.

The ostentatious gate, I am happy to say, is probably not original

The house (chata) stood across the street from the shul, proving that the Spektor's were probably that one annoying "holier-than-thou" family everyone in the village hated. ;)

Our final search was for the Jewish cemetery. Many conversations with many town-folk sent us on car trips up into the hills over Zhabokrich, through meadows, into an overgrown Catholic cemetery, and over a muddy track.

Overgrown is a mild understatement

Finally, in frustration, Alex convinced another man who was walking by to lead us to the cemetery, which was tucked in behind a grove of trees and over a small stream. 

I'd love to say the clouds parted and a sunbeam shone down upon it, but in reality, it was looking like it may rain.

 It was mostly overgrown, with many toppled headstones and very hard to read stones (I really must improve my Hebrew). But amazingly we uncovered the grave with the name Вельтман (Veltman), my paternal great-grandmother Masha's maiden name! We're not sure how the person is related to our family yet but in such a small town, s/he must be! There is much research to be done.

If anyone knows what the Hebrew inscription says, please leave it in the comments below

Many more interesting events took place that day but they are too numerous, and I am too tired, to recount them all.  Another day, another post :)

The Long (and Pot-holed) Road Home

I feel a need to start this blog update with some photos of the ubiquitous pot-holes on all of the roads we taken on this trip. I don't think any of us have ever driven through so many kilometres of pot-holed roads in our lives. Driving (thank goodness, our driver Alex was at the wheel
and not ourselves) requires dexterity, control, and nerves of steel to handle the swerving, deking, and weaving to get around potholes and cars approaching in the wrong lane. I sat in the front too!

The potholes of Ukraine are deep and plentiful

What I believe to be the only road crew in Ukraine. This is the only way to explain the roads.

The past two days have been quite phenomenal. After years of listening to my Bubi (Dora) Krafchek Waltman talk about Zhabokrich and Kryzhopil, we have finally been there! Actually, we haven't visited Zhabokrich yet, which is on the agenda for tomorrow. But so far we have been to three family towns, namely Shpykiv, Kniaze (now called Radyanske), and Kryzhopil. Family members from the Begler, Krafchek, Spektor, and Weltman families were born or were raised in at least one of these towns. It was exciting to walk down the streets where they lived, and to see the types of homes they would have lived in.

This is one of the kinds of house Jews in Kryzhopil lived in. See if you can find the robot face.

Bubi Dora used to always talk about the Kryzhopil railway station, which was the centre of town when the families lived there. They often took the train to Odessa and back, and many family stories centred around the train.

The train station of Kryzhopil, with a suprising number of trains running past it.

When trying to enter or leave Kryzhopil, you WILL have to stop let a train cross. Guaranteed.

What was also wonderful to see were the beautiful green fields that spread out before us over the kilometres as we drove from Shpykiv, past Kniaze, and then down south to Kryzhopil. It is still early in the season so most of the time we saw young fields of corn, potatoes, wheat, and other grains, as well as the occasional bright red poppies.  I understand now why my grandmother would sometimes talk about the beauty of Ukraine and the lands near her home, and how she missed them, despite loving her life in Toronto.
   

Fullsize image available for desktop images and art galleries upon request

One of the tasks I set out for myself on this trip was to find the house that my great-grandfather Levi-Bentzion Spektor built in Kryzhopil at the turn of the last century with the help of his sons. Sadly, we didn't have an address or a photograph to go on. So, at first we were content to just find where Jews lived in Kryzhopil in the pre-war years. Alex took us to the City Hall where were met some very helpful staff who tracked down one of the remaining Jews in the town. We met and spent some time with Nicholai Jacobovich Drubetsky, a remarkably agile 86, who walked us up and down a number of streets near the market and showed us Jewish homes that were still standing.  He was a lovely man and we enjoyed meeting him very much. I taped some of his conversations with us.

He is remarkably quick on his feet and in his speech. Our translator and guide, Alex, had a real workout keeping up!

Alex told us that he thought it would be very difficult to find the house but when we realized that I knew a relative had lived in the house until she died in 1974, we realized that we had a clue. We went to the local archives, which still holds recent records, and found a staff member willing to help us. She went into the stacks, within minutes brought out a handwritten death register for 1974, opened it and, low and behold, the record for Etlja Melman Spektor was on the first page! It was a remarkable series of coincidences (we think it was beshert) that we were able to then find the address of the Spektor house, which was, unbelievably, across the street from the archives.

Literally the easiest genealogy search ever.

We went to the address immediately and were greatly disappointed to discover that the house was no longer there! A small portion of the house seems to be part of another house built on the property and the rest of the land now stands vacant. *sad face*  According to neighbours who came out to speak to us, they remembered Etlja Spektor and her son Boris and wife Betya. Apparently another family lived in the house from 1975 to around 1998 or so when  they left. Then the house was torn down and not replaced.

The disappointment is palpable in this image of an empty lot.

After that exciting but disappointing experience we went to the Kryhopil cemetery. Yesterday and today we spent considerable time walking through and photographing many of the gravestones in both cemeteries at Shpykiv and Kryzhopil.  The first was completely overgrown and on a hillside, which made walking extremely difficult. Much of the Kryzhopil cemetery was in better shape but still there are many tombstones that were hard to read or were broken. We were frustrated that we were unable to find the graves of Levi Bentzion Spektor and Sosya Begler, which I was told were in Kryzhopil. We did take photos of some Spektor, Weltman, one Krafcik, and a Mellman graves that I hope to translate after the trip. The gravestones were in Hebrew, Ukrainian or Russian or a combination.

While the cemetery may look nice here, try wading around in knee-high grass and brambles trying to read faded tombstones. It 's more fun than it sounds.

There is of course much more to say about this, and all the other parts of the trip, but this will have to do for now.  Tomorrow we visit another storied family village --- Zhabokrich --- which we are eager to see!

Krasnosilka Green Preservation Society

On Tuesday, we traveled to Yuri's mother's home village, known as Krasnosilka. It is three hours outside of Kyiv, an hour outside of Zhytomir. Yuri's cousin, Ivan, graciously offered to drive us from Kyiv to visit the family. The weather was threatening rain, with dark clouds always on the horizon. It would have been okay but the roads beyond Zhytomir were in a very poor state.

The Krasnosilka bus stop - in our 7+ hours in the village, we never saw a bus

Once we arrived at Krasnosilka, we traversed many dirt roads until we reached the first village house. The first person to greet us at the first house we visited was Yuri's cousin who burst into tears upon seeing us. The daughter of one of Mama Daschko's sisters who had never met us before; she was thrilled to welcome us to her home. We shared information about the family in Canada and were quizzed about where we were traveling and why. Inevitably the question of why we couldn't stay longer in Krasnosilka was raised. We then sat down to a huge meal, which included copious amounts of vodka and various meats and fewer vegetables.

Lots of food. There was fish, pork, sausage, ham, and chicken.

After lunch, or, more realistically, enough food for 3 lunches, we went for a walk to see the village. On the walk, we visited various cousin's houses, walked their fields, and met their neighbours.

We also met Yuri's cousin's cow.

We also went to the nearby cemetery to visit Yuri's grandmother (my great grandmother), uncles, and aunts. While the rest of the family's graves were in the new cemetery, to reach my great grandmother's grave we had to make our way through a small path cut through the forest. Her grave was one of only a small few that remained of the old graveyard that was now reclaimed by the forest. They told us that since no one of the other families remained in the village, the graves had not been maintained as they were unable to continue to massive job of clearing out the new growth.

There were hundreds more graves like this lost in the forest beyond

On our way back it started to rain and gust, so we were forced to take cover back at the house.

The rain started literally a second after this picture was taken

After the skies cleared, we were taken to see where Yuri's mother's house had once stood. While a new house had been built on the ground, as is common with villages in Ukraine, the well that her family built and drew water out of still stands. We all had a sip of the water, which was still surprisingly clean and fresh tasting.

Thanks again to Yuri's cousin for getting us water the ol' fashioned way. Which is also the way they currently get water.

  We also stopped by cousin's summer house which was nearby. Inside, there was still standing a pich, a type of clay oven, famous in Jewish-Ukrainian and Ukrainian life and literature as a place upon which children would sleep during the cold nights of winter.

They would have slept where the pot is sitting near the wall

To close out the day we had a massive 2nd lunch, which was more like dinner by virtue of the time we ate it. Similar foods and similar quantities of vodka and wine were provided.

People seem to age faster on the village, as everyone commented on how young Marla and Yuri looked.

  We had a wonderful time, and with much  tears and hugs left for Zhytomyr and our hotel there.

Sunday showers

We seem to have missed writing about Sunday but we've been busy being tourists! I'm thankful that Lev and I are sharing the load of writing about the trip; also Lev is much more technologically adept than I am, so I count on him for things like dealing with problems. He also writes the photo captions in a much more entertaining way than I do!

In any case, it is Monday already. Yesterday was spent wandering around Kyiv in some pretty horrible weather. The morning was beautiful and sunny, but then the rain came and it got cold and miserable. We spent more time in cafes than one probably should, but it was a way to escape the weather.

Though it may seem like it, this is not the actual line for entry to the museum.

We visited a fascinating two room museum called the "Museum of One Street". It is located at the foot of Andriyivsky uzviz (Andrew's descent), which is the steep street that we climbed Friday, that contains hundreds of market stalls. The museum documents the history of many individuals who lived on the street over hundreds of years. The collection showcases the lives of soldiers, politicians, nationalists, poets, musicians, actors, a rabbi, an orientalist, dressmakers, etc through an amazing variety of personal items.

Guess which exhibit this one is.

The museum was split up by era and then by street address. There were special exhibits dedicated to the "Turbin family" house of Mikhail Bulgakov's The White Guard fame, and the academic and artistic history of the street.

The First and Second World Wars

Some colourful paintings of 1918 soldiers from all sides of the conflict.

It was a toss up whether there were more World War II artifacts in the museum or being sold by vendors on the street outside.

We also walked around the Maidan (where the Orange Revolution took place) and Khreshatyk street before the skies opened up on us. The rest of the day was stormy, so there aren't that many pictures for us to show. :(

After meeting family on Monday, it will be time for us to leave Kyiv for Zhytomyr and Krasnosilka. Along with leaving this fascinating city and our friends, we will also miss our very comfortable and clean accommodations at the Fairmont Grand Hotel. 

It may be Sunday but I'm still thinking about Saturday

As Lev wrote, our first full day in Kyiv was busy and covered a lot of historical, emotional, and cultural territory. I promised to write a bit about our visit to the killing ground known historically to Jews as Babi Yar (from the Russian) but now known officially as Babyn Yar in Ukrainian.

A map of the grounds. Sorry, it's all in Ukrainian

I first read about Babyn Yar when I was about 20 years old through the moving and evocative poem by the Soviet-Russian writer Yevgeny Yevtushenko. It memorialized the 33,711 Jews who were forcibly brought to the ravine in Kyiv, and then were brutally shot and killed on Yom Kippur between 29 and 30 September 1941. It was the largest mass slaughter of Jews in Ukraine at that point of the war but sadly would not be the last.
 
But Jews weren't the only ones who died at Babyn Yar. The Nazi's were equal opportunity murderers; there wasn't a minority (or majority) that they didn't hate. So approximately 100,000 and 150,000 Ukrainian nationalists, Roma, gays, and Soviet POW's also died there in the months after the murder of the Jewish population.

Babyn Yar is quite a large area covered by lawn, wild grasses, and many poplar and birch trees. The sound of the wind in the trees is beautiful and calming.

Not visible: The millions of little poplar seeds floating through the air. Apparently, female poplars douse the whole city with them.

There are a variety of monuments to the dead spread out over the grounds. We didn't see the giant menorah as it was in a different place but we did see a giant sculpture, put up by the Soviet government, to honour the small number of communists who died there.

And boy is it ugly. It might be hard to discern what it's supposed to be from this distance but, believe me, even up close it's a mess.

 There was also a permanent monument in the form of a large cross in memory of the Ukrainian nationalist dead.

While it is big, the perspective isn't doing the Jewish monument any favours.

 For the Jewish community, there was a small temporary trilingual (English, Hebrew, Ukrainian) monument put up by the Ukrainian government in 2001. I was disappointed that it was so small, but apparently I can blame the Jewish community for the lack of a permanent monument. Apparently, one European Jewish group wanted to build a community centre (which in reality would have been a business centre) on the spot! So there is no monument because they haven't been able to agree on something suitable. Get two Jews together and you'll have three opinions!
 

 Also distressing were the factories and administrative buildings built on top of Ukrainian and Jewish graves by the Soviets. In 1973, a giant TV tower was erected which still overshadows the memorial site. Now abandoned, it still serves as a reminder of how memory must be protected.

Build giant useless tower over the mass-graves of the victims of war crimes? Stay classy, Soviet Union, stay classy.

------

We left Babyn Yar for a much more enjoyable entertainment in the evening, which took place in St. Sophia square. (Lev's note: With the sun setting behind the stage, it was beautiful to see the light play on the bell tower)

Big thanks to Myron and family for letting us know about this. We had a great time!

It was a classical music concert (that started almost 30 minutes late), but the square was packed with chairs and was standing room only for the unfortunate late-comers. There were a lot of opera performances including a group known as "The Three Basses", who did some comedic takes on opera. It was very Ukrainian humour.

Also there was a fire on a nearby street but the concert continued nonetheless.

The night ended with a laser light show using the stage and bell-tower as a screen. It told of the founding of Kyiv using a neat stylized cartoon style. Very cool.

Jewish Kyiv. No seriously, Jewish Kyiv projected on the side of a monastery belltower.

With that, we ended our Saturday and looked forward to Sunday.

Some thoughts before we head out to Ukraine

Yuri, Lev, and I will be travelling to Ukraine for a few weeks to visit some of it's beautiful cities, meet some of Yuri's family, and spend some time in the towns and villages where my father's family lived. I have never blogged before so I am not sure how easy it will be to write after long days on the road and from hotel rooms with limited wifi. But, I intend to treat this blog as a travel diary, where I will write when I have a chance, and will post photos as I am able. It will be a learning process so I apologize in advance for its flaws. But I do hope you will come along for the ride!

'They' always say that you should keep your audience in mind when you write. This could be a little difficult as I expect to have a rather eclectic audience. I am hoping family and friends will follow to see how we're doing, our parents (and grandparents) will want to know if we are healthy (and happy), and some may follow because they are interested in Ukraine or my genealogical pursuits. Whoever you are, I hope that you'll find something of interest in this blog.

In the meantime, I look forward to talking to you again after our arrival in Kyiv. I will use the Ukrainian spelling of towns and cities, so if you are not familiar with the spelling of Kiev, that's okay. Just think of how much you will learn by the end of our trip! :)

До побачення / See you later!