The Simple Life - Part I
Every story has it's beginning; mine started in a small village in Ukraine. Stavy, nestled in a quiet region south of Kyiv, was and currently is home to a few hundred Ukrainians. Life was simple. No fancy cars, no traffic lights, a grocery store no bigger than your house and well... a lot of drinking. You didn't ask for much because quite frankly there wasn't much too give. When you were born in a place like this, you typically died in a place like this. If the drinking didn't get you, the lack of opportunity did. My father would occasionally find steady work and my mom found employment at a farm in our village, which is crucial to my story - but we'll get too that. There's so much to tell you about my early life, I hardly know where to begin; so.. let's start with my house!
Picture this with me, a large wooden fence worn from the rain but sturdy and strong. When you walk through the gate you'd be greeted by a variety of fruit trees, berry bushes and if you were to walk far enough the garden. You'd never know it if you arrived in winter, but the beauty that remained hidden in those dark frosty months would spring forth and explode in living colour. The house stood one story plus an attic where my mother and I would sleep with the bees when my father drank too much. Mom and I were never quite alone with those bees, as mice would find our bodies to be a nice little break from the hard floor. I would shriek as they would crawl up my leg and my mom would pull me closer as I'd try to fall asleep as fast as I could. Our house was much smaller than your typical house in Canada. Knowing what I know about houses - which is very little mind you - I'd estimate that it was around eight-hundred square feet. This was split up into four modestly sized rooms. Now when I say rooms, you're probably picturing at least some sort of door separating each of them - this was not the case. We had a door to the outside and then another door separating the kitchen and what I'll call the "living room". There was my room (which was actually a corner of the living room) where my favourite one-eyed, straw stuffed bear sat on my spring bed. There was enough room left over for a small dresser, a little bigger than my nightstand nowadays. At the far end of the living room was our family wardrobe where almost every piece of clothing we owned could be found. About halfway down from that was our stove for heating the house. Our house didn't have natural gas, so we'd make a fire on the inside of the wall which would keep us nice and warm during the winter. On the outer wall our house was made of mostly concrete and mud, with wood helping hold the mud together on the inner layer behind the concrete. Inside, the walls were left hollow so that the heat could circulate. It was by no means fireproof, as there were still parts of the house like the roof made completely of wood - we found this out the hard way, but I'll get to that later too. My parents room was directly adjacent to mine and like I said, there was no door. I heard everything and I mean EVERYTHING. My brother would sleep down at the far end, off to the right of the living room on a couch bed. No door, but he did have a desk! Which I would also get to use for schoolwork.
Now would actually be a good time to mention that I have two older brothers, Sasha and Sergei. Sergei is the oldest and had moved out by the time I was seven or eight. Sasha however still lived with us and sometimes when I was lucky he would let me play games on his phone. More often though we would play street fighter on his Sega - I loved spending that time with him. I have always been close with my brothers. Sergei now has five children of his own with his wife Inna and they still live in the area not far from where we grew up. My brother Sasha has a daughter named Anya whom he named after me and they both live in Stavy - though not together. In total I have four nephews and two nieces, each of whom I love very much which makes it that much harder to say goodbye every time I visit.
I was never much of a breakfast person, but my mother sure was! Every morning at the crack of dawn she'd get that old wood stove going. Borshch was her favourite, but she'd often make hrechka, mashed potatoes and any other soup she could whip up with whatever we had. Opting out of breakfast, I would instead join my father to watch Dal'noboyshchyky on our little 16" T.V. He would sit on his bed and I would sit in the corner on the multi-coloured chair. When mom would finish breakfast I would help her clean up the dishes. We didn't have water in the house so it was a bit of a process. First we'd start off by going across the road to our neighbour Vova, where we would fill a bucket of water from his well. We'd take the water back home, put some in a small kettle and then bring it to a boil using an electric coil that we'd plug in and drop into the kettle. When the water had come to a boil, we'd pour it into a large aluminum bowl, mix in the remaining cold water, soap, and wallah! You're now cleaning dishes.
My afternoons were spent picking strawberries, raspberries, currants, pears and anything else we could get our hands on. My mom would use some fruit for jams, kompot and others for drying to have for a snack throughout winter, like apples. Fruit was always bountiful, it's one of my fondest memories of Ukraine. Most of our time however was spent in the garden. Gardens in Ukraine are quite a bit bigger than what I've experienced here in Canada - I guess that's what happens when you need your harvest to outlast the winter. We didn't own any gas-powered equipment, so we had to sow and harvest using hand-tools. Ukraine is known as the "bread basket of Europe" for good reason. With two-thirds of the country consisting of black earth, we rarely had a "bad" season. When we were planting potatoes my father would dig a row of holes as my mother and I would follow behind him tossing a couple of potatoes in each. In case you didn't know, Ukrainians love potatoes - like, really love. Potatoes would take up approximately four-fifths of the garden, while leafy greens filled in the rest. At harvest time we would fill approximately sixty large sacks. Anyone hungry for fries? In fact we were always left with such a bounty of potatoes, that we'd begin to trade them to gypsies for watermelons - which were unbelievably huge! Yeah, definitely one of my fondest memories alright.
Dinner was a lot like breakfast and lunch. My favourite dinner was a kind of borshch called "green borshch". We'd start with a base of mostly stinging nettles or sorrel with potatoes and other vegetables mixed in. We'd always top it off with some sour cream and an egg. That might not sound good.. but believe me it is. On most nights when it was time to sleep I would hop into my creaky bed and fall asleep to the sound of my dad watching television.
This was life most days during summer in Ukraine; like I said it was simple. The school year rolled around in September just like here in Canada but I think I'll save that for the next blog post.
'Til next time,
Anya
Picture this with me, a large wooden fence worn from the rain but sturdy and strong. When you walk through the gate you'd be greeted by a variety of fruit trees, berry bushes and if you were to walk far enough the garden. You'd never know it if you arrived in winter, but the beauty that remained hidden in those dark frosty months would spring forth and explode in living colour. The house stood one story plus an attic where my mother and I would sleep with the bees when my father drank too much. Mom and I were never quite alone with those bees, as mice would find our bodies to be a nice little break from the hard floor. I would shriek as they would crawl up my leg and my mom would pull me closer as I'd try to fall asleep as fast as I could. Our house was much smaller than your typical house in Canada. Knowing what I know about houses - which is very little mind you - I'd estimate that it was around eight-hundred square feet. This was split up into four modestly sized rooms. Now when I say rooms, you're probably picturing at least some sort of door separating each of them - this was not the case. We had a door to the outside and then another door separating the kitchen and what I'll call the "living room". There was my room (which was actually a corner of the living room) where my favourite one-eyed, straw stuffed bear sat on my spring bed. There was enough room left over for a small dresser, a little bigger than my nightstand nowadays. At the far end of the living room was our family wardrobe where almost every piece of clothing we owned could be found. About halfway down from that was our stove for heating the house. Our house didn't have natural gas, so we'd make a fire on the inside of the wall which would keep us nice and warm during the winter. On the outer wall our house was made of mostly concrete and mud, with wood helping hold the mud together on the inner layer behind the concrete. Inside, the walls were left hollow so that the heat could circulate. It was by no means fireproof, as there were still parts of the house like the roof made completely of wood - we found this out the hard way, but I'll get to that later too. My parents room was directly adjacent to mine and like I said, there was no door. I heard everything and I mean EVERYTHING. My brother would sleep down at the far end, off to the right of the living room on a couch bed. No door, but he did have a desk! Which I would also get to use for schoolwork.
Now would actually be a good time to mention that I have two older brothers, Sasha and Sergei. Sergei is the oldest and had moved out by the time I was seven or eight. Sasha however still lived with us and sometimes when I was lucky he would let me play games on his phone. More often though we would play street fighter on his Sega - I loved spending that time with him. I have always been close with my brothers. Sergei now has five children of his own with his wife Inna and they still live in the area not far from where we grew up. My brother Sasha has a daughter named Anya whom he named after me and they both live in Stavy - though not together. In total I have four nephews and two nieces, each of whom I love very much which makes it that much harder to say goodbye every time I visit.
I was never much of a breakfast person, but my mother sure was! Every morning at the crack of dawn she'd get that old wood stove going. Borshch was her favourite, but she'd often make hrechka, mashed potatoes and any other soup she could whip up with whatever we had. Opting out of breakfast, I would instead join my father to watch Dal'noboyshchyky on our little 16" T.V. He would sit on his bed and I would sit in the corner on the multi-coloured chair. When mom would finish breakfast I would help her clean up the dishes. We didn't have water in the house so it was a bit of a process. First we'd start off by going across the road to our neighbour Vova, where we would fill a bucket of water from his well. We'd take the water back home, put some in a small kettle and then bring it to a boil using an electric coil that we'd plug in and drop into the kettle. When the water had come to a boil, we'd pour it into a large aluminum bowl, mix in the remaining cold water, soap, and wallah! You're now cleaning dishes.
My afternoons were spent picking strawberries, raspberries, currants, pears and anything else we could get our hands on. My mom would use some fruit for jams, kompot and others for drying to have for a snack throughout winter, like apples. Fruit was always bountiful, it's one of my fondest memories of Ukraine. Most of our time however was spent in the garden. Gardens in Ukraine are quite a bit bigger than what I've experienced here in Canada - I guess that's what happens when you need your harvest to outlast the winter. We didn't own any gas-powered equipment, so we had to sow and harvest using hand-tools. Ukraine is known as the "bread basket of Europe" for good reason. With two-thirds of the country consisting of black earth, we rarely had a "bad" season. When we were planting potatoes my father would dig a row of holes as my mother and I would follow behind him tossing a couple of potatoes in each. In case you didn't know, Ukrainians love potatoes - like, really love. Potatoes would take up approximately four-fifths of the garden, while leafy greens filled in the rest. At harvest time we would fill approximately sixty large sacks. Anyone hungry for fries? In fact we were always left with such a bounty of potatoes, that we'd begin to trade them to gypsies for watermelons - which were unbelievably huge! Yeah, definitely one of my fondest memories alright.
Dinner was a lot like breakfast and lunch. My favourite dinner was a kind of borshch called "green borshch". We'd start with a base of mostly stinging nettles or sorrel with potatoes and other vegetables mixed in. We'd always top it off with some sour cream and an egg. That might not sound good.. but believe me it is. On most nights when it was time to sleep I would hop into my creaky bed and fall asleep to the sound of my dad watching television.
This was life most days during summer in Ukraine; like I said it was simple. The school year rolled around in September just like here in Canada but I think I'll save that for the next blog post.
'Til next time,
Anya
