Westward Bound: Kamianets-Podilskyi, Khotyn, and Chernivtsi

This is a post by Lev with a bit of help by Marla:
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After bad rain, thunderstorms, and rocky and muddy paths masquerading as highways, we're finally here in L'viv. But we don't want to get ahead of ourselves, as the story of how we got here and what we saw along the way is certainly an interesting one.

Our driver, Bohdan, picked us up from our hotel in Odesa on Wednesday morning. For the next eleven hours we were on the road to Kamianets-Podilskyi (hereinafter referred to as KP otherwise this blog will be charged for breach of laws about length!). After a couple of wrong turns, and seriously potholed roads, which required that he drive at about 20 km an hour for much of the trip, we finally ended up at our very nice hotel in the old part of KP. After a late dinner (10 pm), we fell asleep quickly and awoke early to a beautiful Thursday morning.

We got up and out of the hotel extra early to catch the sights and beat the heat. The first thing we saw was the city hall and bell tower from our hotel window.

Upon leaving the hotel we happened upon a modern sculpture, which reflected the day ahead of us.

This is not a statue but instead a real tourist dipped in bronze from 1989

Immediately afterwards we visited a church (now a convent) that had a minaret erected when the Ottomans had taken the city in 1672. KP was given back to the Poles with the promise that they would not tear down the minaret. The Poles agreed and left the minaret standing. But the agreement didn't stop them from erecting a golden statue of the Virgin Mary on top of the minaret. It still stands today.

Even in the 17th century, everyone hated lawyers and their legal loopholes

After that, we saw the former Dominican monastery, the Armenian tower, and the ancient castle that stands on a hill across from the old town. The name of KP comes from the rock it sits upon (the name literally means the rock of Podil). The only way to enter the castle is by bridge, and, once inside, there are various museums and activities (for a price).

Sorry Starship, they built this city more on rock than roll

The whole place looked like it was right out of Poland, and some of the signs were indeed, written in Polish for the many Polish tourists.We were happy that we had left the hotel early because by noon the whole town was teeming with tour groups and tour buses. We checked out of our hotel, and got on the road for Khotyn and had a quick lunch on the road. We arrived at Khotyn later in the afternoon.

This natural spring indicates, helpfully, that it is located in Ukraine.

Khotyn was the site of the tremendous victory by Poles and Ukrainian Cossacks over the Ottoman Empire. It was said that 40,000 Cossacks, led by Hetman Petro Konashevych-Sahaidachny, as well as Polish regular forces, defeated 200,000 Ottoman troops. There was also another victory over the Turks in 1673, but since no Ukrainians were involved, it doesn't get mentioned much in Ukrainian popular history. The fort finally fell to the Ottomans in 1713, but since they took it from Moldavans, and not Ukrainians, one could say... no harm, no foul. ;)

This ancient-looking sign could be from the time of that first Turkish invasion... or maybe just 2002

While the fort has fallen into disrepair since the 18th century, most of the current structure is rebuilt from historical blueprints. Only a cobblestone road leads from the outer gate to the keep.

It's just as steep and ankle-breaking as it appears

It is quite impressive in itself, but more impressive is the landscape surrounding it. Between its outer and inner walls, large rolling green hills descend to the castle walls in the valley below.

Eat your heart out, Ireland

Since the fort sits right on the shore of the nearby Dnieper river, the foundations are quite damp and cool.

If Ukraine had better wines,  this could make a good wine cellar

In any case, we departed after only about an hour at Khotyn so that we could make it in time to get to Chernivtsi in daylight. And it was a good thing we did. The roads were horrible.

*dramatic music* dun, Dun, DUN!

After about a 2 hour, we arrived in Chernivtsi. Known as Czernowitz to Ukrainian Jews, this once-shining city had been the capital of the Bukovina province of Austria-Hungary. Now, it is a relatively isolated university town just a stone's throw from the Romanian border.

The sign on the archway reads 'University' (or 'Party-Central' if you are a student)

Needless to say, Chernivtsi is best known for its university.

... and not particularly for the quality of its education

The campus is a UNESCO heritage site and is a sight to behold. The colourful shingles, bizarre shapes and earthy red colour make it seem like something out a children's story.

This was originally the house for the Metropolitan of the Greek Catholic Church but he got dizzy from the roof patterns and had to move out

Hidden behind the university, there is a wonderful park with large old growth trees, comfortable benches, and a plethora of songbirds.

Think less London's Hyde Park, more Bavaria's Schwarzwald

Unfortunately, storm clouds were on the horizon and thunder was echoing among the buildings. In the face of a soon-to-be downpour, we rushed off to the Chernivtsi Palace of Culture, the former Jewish National House. Located in Theatre Square, this impressive structure was constructed in 1908.

Palace of Culture indeed

Unfortunately, the many Jews that called 'Czernowitz' home no longer live there. The building now houses the museum of history of Bukovinan Jews and acts as a community centre for what appears to be a still rather active, if small, community.

This noble lion now guards the calendar of events, which is good because Timmy keeps trying to deface it

After this quick stop, we rushed off to the building that interested me the most, the Ukrainian National House. But not for the reasons you would think. The building served as the home of the First Yiddish Language Conference in1908.

The only image I could find of the Ukrainian National House came from this postcard

The address of the building is not advertised anywhere, and it no longer serves the same purpose as it once did. However, after some research and a couple of hours using Google Street view, I discovered its location. It was exciting to find the building, and despite an increasingly active rain storm, I ran out to take photographs of the building that was central to my Master's Thesis.

I turned down taking an umbrella outside because I'm smart like that.

While it definitely was the right building, it's not 100% clear in which room the meetings were held. My best bet is that the room is still the conference room, but I will have to return to do more research before I can confirm this.

1908

2013

After that excitement, we rushed back to the hotel before the storm could get any worse. We ate a strange dinner-related meal and had a fitful night in a renovated Radyanske-era hotel.

It included such highlights like fua gwa (foie gras), chicken souffle, and, as pictured here, "a nut is a cedar."

Strangely, the top floor of the hotel (6th floor) was off-limits and attempting to hit the 6th floor button in the cramped and musty elevator sent one instead to the basement.

The plants add a certain level of creepiness to the whole situation, no?

We left Chernivtsi in the morning with the threat of more rain and a long drive to L'viv ahead of us. More on that tomorrow. We'll also try to report on our visit to L'viv before I leave for school tomorrow (taking the computer with me),  but if not, you can expect a final update after Marla and Yuri return to Toronto.

The beguiling city of Odesa

Marla here:

Of the three of us, I think I arrived in Odesa with the greatest sense of excitement. My grandmother Dora Krafchek Waltman called Odesa, a city where she and her siblings spent a great deal of time in their youth, the Paris of the Russian Empire. She was right.

Odesa, at least in its city centre, feels a lot like Europe. In fact, walking down some of the streets, one could be in Paris (if you ignore all of the signs in Cyrillic text). There are many European and international brand stores lining its streets, and the architecture is a mix of 19th century apartments (many of them crumbling), restored 19th century public buildings, city and small neighbourhood parks with outdoor cafes, late 19th/early 20th century Art Nouveau concrete buildings, and modern glass-covered shopping centres.

This arcade was finished in 1899, the same year Alfred Dreyfus is pardoned in France, and the Second Boer War started. "The More You Know!"

You can almost hear a city official inside Odesa City Hall getting ready to draft an anti-bike bylaw

In search of old Odesa, one only has to walk down some of its back streets. My grandmother used to talk about a common Odesan architectural element, namely the arches off main streets that lead to central courtyards and apartments. Sitting in front of the archways then, and sometimes even now, one found a 'babushka', usually an older woman acting as a concierge, gossip, and general know-it-all, guarding the gateway.

The fee for entry? (I would assume) 100 UAH or a good bowl of borscht

Often these courtyards are now filled with cars, as well as being lined with offices or stores, but they give the residents a place to chat, play, or get some air.

Two slightly shady characters caught mid-transaction by the camera's unblinking eye

 Above the courtyards live the residents of downtown Odesa in a multitude of different types of apartments; many appear to be in very bad shape, at least externally.  Even so, one gets a sense of the types of residences where my family spent time during their many visits to Odesa before and during World War One.

We visited some of the extraordinarily beautiful 19th century buildings that house some of the most important sites in Odesa. The Opera House is world famous and deservedly so; unfortunately, the only performance during our stay was the night we arrived and its production of  'Romeo and Julietta' was sold out.

What you don't see in this picture is that there are several monuments to the glorious war dead of the Soviet Union opposite the Opera House,

Near the Opera House were other beautiful buildings, courtyards, and parks.

The aforementioned park

So beautiful, so full of life

If you lived in this apartment building, you'd be home by now... and forever serenaded by Ukrainian and Russian opera.

Another unpretentious apartment block

When we were in Pervomaisk, a powerful storm ripped across Ukraine. While Pervomaisk was only hit by minor damage and a short blackout, Odesa got hit much worse. We saw on the news that there was flooding and major damage. While driving into Odesa a couple days later we witnessed this damage first-hand. Large branches were torn off trees and roadside were crumpled over like pieces of paper. In the city centre, the damage was equally severe.

Going to Odesa? Good luck reading the signs.

Don't say I didn't tell you so

Those are branches not bushes. The canopy of the park now has huge holes in it.

In the famous Odesa City Park, they are in the process of cutting down large old-growth trees, which, luckily, missed the bandstand when they fell. Even more fortunately, there seemed to be minimal damage to the city's historical buildings and monuments.

I'm not sure what's of greatest concern: the size of the tree that fell from the storm or the fact that child is about to be swallowed by said tree.

While walking along the Bul Prymorsky (Prymorsky Boulevard, a tree-lined pedestrian zone above the harbour) you often hear snippets of conversations in French, German, Turkish, and English as well as Ukrainian and Russian.

Beret optional, and more accurately, highly discouraged.

One of the places I had hoped to see when we planned our trip to Odesa was the house of the Ephrussi family, made famous by the extraordinary book entitled "The Hare with the Amber Eyes".  However, just as we learned that our family homes in Kryzhopil and Zhabokrich no longer exist, we had a similar disappointment with the house of the Ephrussi family. Located in a prime location on the Bul Prymorsky, just opposite the Pushkin monument, we found that the house was heavily under wraps.  In fact, it appears that under the wrapping, the house is in an advanced state of decay and disrepair.  A real loss of what was once a beautiful house.

Wait, I think I can make out a decorative column in... no, nevermind, that's just scaffolding

What is unlike Paris, Prague, or London, however, is that every so often, through the trees, you can see large freighters filling the waterfront.

Its products could be manufactured in China, but they could very well be shipped from Ukraine.

While the city core is a safe haven for tourists, Odesa is also a hard-working industrial port, surrounded by factories and refineries that ship all over the Black Sea and the Mediterranean.

Smell that fabulous Black Sea air... and smoke and gasoline.

One cannot visit Odesa without climbing the Potemkin Steps, made famous by the movie "Battleship Potemkin". As they are just around the corner from our hotel, we took the challenge, taking the steps down and then climbing back up, while trying to avoid the hustlers who wanted us to pay for photos with monkeys, hawks, and owls. (Oh my).

Also skimpy dresses and acrobats. You know, your average Monday in Odesa.

As well as spending our days walking through Odesa streets on our own, photographing buildings and streetscapes, we also took a private guided tour of Jewish Odesa. It was a fascinating introduction to the history of Jews in Odesa from a religious, political, historical, and artistic perspective.

We learned, for example, that six Jewish families lived in the Turkish town of Khadjibey, which became the city of  Odesa in 1794. While Jews lived across Ukraine in the Pale of Settlement, Odesa was the first native city for Jews. It was an open city and contained multiple ethnic and religious groups. As the population grew, Jews felt comfortable living anywhere in Odesa as the city never contained a ghetto. Before the Revolution, 70 prayer houses and synagogues could be found in the city, with different professions, such as tailors, furniture makers, sellers of lemons, kosher butchers, etc. each developing their own shul.

The Odesa Lubavichter Synagogue was open for photographs :)

Jews from the small settlements, such as my great-grandparents, would travel to Odesa and be thrilled and perhaps shocked by the city. I remember thinking how my relatives would have been overwhelmed with Toronto or Pittsburgh when they emigrated from Ukraine. After having learned about how cosmopolitan Odesa was in the 19th and 20th centuries, I realize now that our North American cities were pretty small potatoes compared what they experienced in Odesa!

Just a bit different from the streets in the shtetl, don't you think?

A nice unpretentious house in Odesa

Among other things, our tour showed us active synagogues, the Jewish Hospital (where my grandmother Dora and some of her siblings stayed when they suffered from cholera during the Revolution) and the locations of homes of well-known writers and political organizers such as Shalom Aleichem, Lev Jabotinsky, Mendele Sforim, Chaim Bialik, and Issak Babel. Odesa was a magnet for Ukrainian Jews and, in the words of Issak Babel, the city was a 'beckoning star'.

The plaque at the house where Simon Dubnov once lived. Afterwards, he moved to Lithuania, which proved to be a poor decision.

The house of some guy named Sholom Aleichem. The text in the upper plaque is actually Yiddish not Hebrew.

In fact, at one point over one-third of Odesa's population was Jewish, numbering about 300,000. That would change of course, after pogroms, emigration, World War Two, Stalin, Communism, and then the final emigration of Jews to Israel and other parts of the world after the fall of the Soviet Union. The city's Jewish population now sits at about 40,000.

One of the monuments commemorating the Shoah and Holocaust in Odesa.

There is much more to say about Odesa, both from what we learned through the tour, and our own exploration, but stop we must. Let's just say that our introduction to Odesa was just that. I'll have to return to Odesa in order to learn more of its secrets.