Village People

(posted late due to no internet in Chernobyl)

On our second day in the Zone, we travelled to the village of Opichi (sp?), 25 km south of the main disaster area. All the local here had been evacuated after the disaster and were not allowed back as this was considered a "dirty" area. About 1300 people - mostly elderly - returned to their homes in the small villages that dot the countryside.

Today there are about 130 of these villagers remaining - mostly in their 80s - as the rest have dies. These last few settlers have been referred to by the media and the government as "squatters" although they have resettled their own land and gone back to their own homes.

They have become self-sufficientm growing vegetables and keeping livestock as they have no real support system other than a truck that comes by to refill gas tanks and a monthly bus that will take them to Chernobyl for supplies.

Those we spoke to would not want to leave. Even living alone as widows they kept pristing homes, built by their own hands, and had beautiful prosperous gardens full of sunflowers and vegetables such as potatoes, cabbage, beets, and corn. They even produced their own vodka - and it was potent! After three homes and 4 shots, I was definitely feeling the effects.

This immersion into the Ukrainian peasant life and meeting these wonderful strong women helped to to understand where the women in my family get their independent streak. As I listened to them recount the stories of living through the Holodomor - the famine of 1932-33 - the Russian and German occupations, the nuclear disaster, losing their homes and then returning against the rules of the government, I could see in their eyes and hear in the tone of their voices that these were women who would not be told what they could or could not do.

Valentyna - 74 years old
The first of our three visits was to Valentyna, a widow who lived in the home that she and her late husband had built. Her garden was beautiful, full of large blooming flowers of all colour and shape and vegetables of all sorts. She was self-sufficient mostly and she was very proud of what she had. Petite, at just about 5 feet tall, this powerhouse of a woman kept her farmhouse completely spotless even though she walked using a crutch under one arm. Even at her age, she distilled her own vodka using her own berries and lots of sugar. She invited us all to shots and white melon from her garden.

Maria - 87 years old
On the way to our second house, we spotted Maria walking down the road, chasing the local cats with a switch. She had her mud boots on, a skirt to the knee, white sweater, and bright yellow kerchief with red flowers. The image was how I had pictured a farm babushka would look like. She was very happy to have visitors and invited us into her home. Hand-built, like Valentyna's, this one was two rooms and also included a full stove that worked as an oven, food dryer, and house heater. We all sat in her living room and listened as my father asked her about her childhood growing up during the wars. She loved to share her stories and it was a highlight of our trip out to the country. She was also very proud to show off her 80th birthday gifts - a new TV and cellphone.

Olga - 82 years old
Our last stop was at the home of a very gracious hostess who had the most beautiful embroidery collection - all her own. Although she's now 82 years old, she still embroiders pillows, table runners, and pictures and these are all over her one room house - again hand-built. We tasted some tomatoes form her garden which were so delicious and of course had some vodka - this time bottled and really strong. Her garden has beautiful tall sunflowers and she had some rambunctious chickens in the coop out back. Of course, each of the ladies had cats - there's always cats.

We had come out to visit these women, bringing each a bag of supplies such as pasta, milk, cookies, and juice. A gift of thanks for their time with use, allowing us into their homes and to take photos of their lives, and also to help them out as they are so isolated. The road to this one village was quite a ways out and was one that I would never have thought of driving on. It looked as if it hadn't been used in years. This was an experience that I never forget.