News feature series by Thomas C. Smedley
A Tour of Ukraine (Part I)
Introduction
A short night going over and a long day coming back bracket twelve exciting days in Ukraine. Going east, you nod off at 9:30 p.m. after supper, then awake to broad daylight at 12:30 a.m. Life seems monumentally unfair! Coming back, you add six hours to your day.You need the extra time to journalize undigested experiences, have last conversations with other team members, and talk with the Afrikaaners across the aisle.
Many publications report significant religious revival in the eastern bloc. Yet, how does a ministry/vacation trip to Ukraine turn out in practice? What can you learn or do in a few brief weeks? More then expected. This week, we will discuss the first of three cities visited. My vehicle for the trip was the John Guest Evangelistic Crusade. This group, headed by an Episcopal priest with 20 years of pastoral experience, stresses long-range relationship building. The tour-group structure of this experience insulated us from many of the frustrations of daily life in a third world country. The mission purpose, though, provided opportunities for positive interaction with the Ukrainians.
The team included two sub-sets of American Christendom, youth and veterans. Six teen-agers won the hearts of host families in the first city we visited, and served effectively in street and hospital ministries. Several Vietnam era vets brought greetings from American veterans organizations to their Red Army counterparts. These gentlemen were warmly received by the "Afghanis," the Soviet draftees who'd lost a frustrating dirty war in Afghanistan. "A lot of them haven't had time to bury their past yet," said Courtney Brown, CPA. In a miracle of grace, American veterans of one war brought comfort to Soviet veterans of another.
Slavutich
The team touched down at Kiev International Airport in the afternoon of June 15. The first impression of detail work that never quite matched grandiose ambitions remained true through most of the stay. The toilet facilities were fairly decent, but the finish carpentry had been done by framing carpenters, using 8 penny checked nails.A three-hour cruise on a bus with no air conditioning took the group past broad fields, pocket gardens, a collective farm. The mid-trip rest stop required a stretch of woods, a stretch of legs, and an admonition -- "Girls to the left, boys to the right."
The city of Slavutich is less than four years old. The name means "Glorious," and refers to the Dnieper River. The town emblem features a stylized river, a starburst, and the archangel Michael. This city of 20,000 souls is laid out on a grandiose scheme around a central square, with marble facade over brick work. The veneer is coming off the fountain in the square. The town's largest building, a Communist Party headquarters, is still under construction, even though the city fathers have no idea what to do with it. Draftee masons in uniform pants lay up bricks under the summer sun. You crawl off the bus, and notice the people. Three and four year old children, speaking perfect Russian, look shyly at these foreigners, exchange a few words, then go back to their lively games. They are clean, well dressed, cheerful. A few elderly ladies wear the traditional peasant costumes, but most people dress like those you see in any American or European city.
You notice that none of the grass is mowed, and people do not walk on it. When you hear the word "catastrophe" in a Russian sentence, the speaker is discussing the event that gave birth to this city, and sounded the death knell of the Soviet empire. There is a connection between those two sentences -- what do you do with radioactive grass clippings?
A sense of a profound tragedy hangs over Slavutich. The town's "Red Carnation" museum commemorates the death of a village named Prepiyet, the predecessor of Slavutich, and of those forty people killed during the first two days of The Catastrophe. The museum curator is an elderly, believing Communist lady who guards sacred memories. Artifacts and photographs of the earlier village are on display. In the room of remembrance, perpetual votive candles burn before the somber black and white photographs of young people, in their twenties and thirties, who knowingly went to their deaths trying to contain the disaster. A Russian inscription on the wall is initially dismissed by the interpreter as "standard Communist rhetoric." It is a tribute to the enduring work of those who have died. The last sentence can be roughly translated "If not me, then who?"
The world at large saw denial -- local children told to run outdoors and play vigorously on May Day, three days later, three miles away, while raging fires belched radioactive contaminants into the skies. A Polish woman I know expects to die of cancer, since five of her friends have. That cloud of fallout detected in Sweden passed over her, first. The Poles were outdoors in force, celebrating the May holiday with picnics and outings, while the official party line held that nothing was happening.
A cynic would think of "spin doctors" stressing the heroism of those who fought the radioactive fires at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. Yet, a visit to the museum, or to the monument on the town square to the deceased, is a powerfully moving experience. You will see a local citizen pause before photographs etched on the granite of the outdoor monument, and cross herself.
One of the interpreters, Vladimir, has a wry, deadpan sense of humor, knows the lyrics of the forbidden jazz songs of the 40's, and enjoys special privileges as a "Chernobyl veteran." He's retired at age 53, since those who participated in the cleanup can quit work ten years early. His internal passport gives him special claims on medical services, and free public transportation. Vladimir ran a "washing station," where people and clothing were decontaminated. "They didn't even tell us to wear dust masks," he reports. "On top of that, I was a smoker back then. I could feel the fallout 'sparkling' in my throat when I smoked." Several of his friends and colleagues have dropped dead with no prior illness.
Slavutich was built by drafted labor battalions from around the Soviet empire to house the people evacuated from the "closed zone," the area within 10 kilometers of the reactors. Each subdivision is named for the nation that supplied its builders. One building bears the name Tallinin, in memory of Estonia's capital.
Inside the restricted zone, looters ransacked abandoned housing. Contaminated furniture and fixtures can be found throughout Ukraine, if anyone is looking. After a few years, the non-(registered)-persons began to drift back. Many of these are older people, who did not want to pull up roots. At present levels of background radioactivity, they absorb each year the equivalent of three chest X-rays.
Several members of the team went to visit these unofficial cities, and were warmly received. John Guest did not find a lectern, podium, or stage. To prepare for a occasion, the people set out a table with tablecloth and flowers, and three chairs -- one for the commissar, and two for the "people's deputies." After all, this is how you conduct public meetings!
The people of Slavutich, Chernobyl's "company town," are sharp, and they are worried. The Ukrainian parliament has voted to shut down the remaining reactors, eliminating 5,000 jobs. High paying jobs. Averaging $1,000/month. Car ownership is high, even if the most common car is a Fiat clone. Slavutich is heavily populated with engineers, technicians, and experts on atomic power -- peaceful, and otherwise. One local citizen who'd heard the team's message sought out Carl Whorley, a Blue Ridge pastor, and explained his story. He'd assembled the bombs targeted on American cities -- "can you forgive me?" Carl replies, "That was a quarrel between our governments, not between you and me," and embraces him. Carl spoke of how he'd been raised to regard Soviet people as enemies, and vice-versa. "And it just isn't true," he concluded.
The collapse of Communism was a psychological Chernobyl. On a city-sponsored Dnieper River cruise, an English teacher spoke of how she wanted her children to have faith, something to believe in. "We had been told that Ukrainians, Russians, and Byelorussians were all brothers, working together to build a new world," she explained. "Then, with glasnost and perestroika, we found out the historical truth." With their moral order discredited, how can people live? What shall they live for?
Caught between The Catastrophe and an uncertain future, Slavutich is a city desperate for hope. The theme of the John Guest meetings this year is, "Jesus Gives Hope." The people wanted to hear that message, and welcomed us warmly. Ukrainians love America, and Americans. It's the Russians they worry about! We felt that affection everywhere, and most team members are making plans to return. The running joke of the trip was the hope that our radiant countenances reflect something other than proximity to Chernobyl. Stay tuned.
A Tour of Ukraine, Part II (Kiev)
A City Afoot
Talk to a Roanoke native who came of age during the '50's, and you'll hear tales of Friday nights when the downtown streets teemed with young people, walking back and forth, looking at and talking to one another, going shopping, going to the movies, socializing.Walk the streets of Kiev, and you'll see couples and friends walking hand in hand, talking, socializing. Kiev is a paradise for pedestrians. The streets have the old European cobblestone look in many places. Public transportation is cheap. You can ride one of the trolley busses (rubber tires, electric motors) a mile or three for less than a US penny.
Metro (subway) stations and underground pedestrian crosswalks also serve as gathering places. Musicians and beggars ply their trades. The teen-age girl in a T-shirt distributing children's literature turns out to be, not another Christian idealist from America, but a Jehovah's Witness from Poland!
Get a friend, and go shopping. Get a knowledgeable friend, and go bargain hunting. Pick up Russian versions of C. S. Lewis's "Narnia" children stories for less than a nickel per volume. Get your Russian/English dictionaries for similar low prices. Children's literature in Russian and in Ukrainian -- after all, a man's reach ought always to exceed his grasp -- is also easier to afford over there. We never could find a Ukrainian/English dictionary, but Sergei said he'd hunt one down and send it to me.
Swing by the Ukrainian Souvenir store, and load up on wooden "pysankys" (colored Easter eggs) for 25 cents each. Or boldly ornamented ceramics, aprons, and embroidered "ritual cloths." When you think Ukraine, think color. These people love it, and are not timid about using it.
The etiquette for the situation is to let your guide make the purchases, then pay him off in dollars at the end of the trip, at a good exchange rate. Agree before you go -- "would a rate of 120 koopons per dollar be fair?" Your friend ends up with dollars, you end up with bargains.
Kiev is even a friendly city at night. Would you want to walk a mile through downtown Roanoke after 9:00 p.m.? Yet, this Ukrainian city of three million is peaceful, hospitable and civilized in a way that puts us to shame.
You see little of a city when embarked "on a mission from God," but you can always hope to go back another day with more time and leisure. The group did set aside one afternoon to tour historic cathedrals and monasteries. That was my afternoon to visit several publishing enterprises. My desire to meet living people in my profession outweighed my desire to see beautiful masonry.
All The Rage
"American-style preaching and preachers are all the rage at the moment," my interpreter tells me. Even the local Protestant and Orthodox pastors are acquiring livelier pulpit mannerisms. Christian literature is eagerly snatched up on the streets. You can with some effort gather a crowd at Independence Square, but the area has already been heavily fished by Protestants, Mormons, and Adventists. Go to a transportation depot, though, and the interest is intense indeed. People crowd around to hear.If you want to speak English, flag down one of the rare black faces in the crowd. A number of Africans are studying medicine and engineering at Ukrainian universities. They tend to be lonely, and find Ukrainian society impenetrable. Earning their degree can take them away from home and family for seven years at a stretch. The first year or two is devoted to learning Russian.
Or, maybe you'll find yourself talking to a Moslem Palestinian, who is glad to meet another "stranger in this land." Appreciate the achievements of his people, and make a new friend. (Palestinians don't sit on oil wells; they do have the largest percentage of professional, middle-class people of any Arab group. Many are Christians.)
John Guest, the Episcopal evangelist, and Victor Maretsky, his interpreter, hold the crowd spellbound night after night at the local soccer stadium. The most powerful sermon deals with Zaccheus, the little man who went to work for the occupying enemy, but received salvation when Jesus entered his house. You could feel the impact on the crowd when John compared Zaccheus to "a Frenchman who served the Nazis, or a Ukrainian who was in the pay of the Russians."
Ninety percent of the listeners respond to the altar calls in Kiev. They come specifically to hear a message of hope, and come planning to grasp at whatever spiritual sustenance is offered. Local believers distribute the literature, and offer follow-up counseling.
Billy Graham averages about a 2% true conversion to decision ratio. Perhaps 5% of those who go forward at the John Guest meetings end up in Bible studies conducted by the local "Christian center." Many of the others, we are told, return to their Orthodox churches with new vitality.
"Crusade evangelism" is definitely in the mass production mode. Only time will tell how profound the long range impact has been.
Two Ladies
The most prominent landmark in Kiev will probably not be there the next time I am. I got to thinking on the Fourth of July about that giant metal monument to the Brezhnev Doctrine.
Formally, the Brezhnev Doctrine says "Social progress is irreversible." In geopolitical terms it means "What's mine is mine, and what's yours is negotiable." In practice it is a syndicate of thugs' shameless claim to turf and spoils.
Brezhnev is gone. The enslaved nations are stirring, tugging at their chains. Yet in Kiev Brezhnev's lady still stands, mocking the aspirations of the Ukrainian people.
The lady called by Americans "the ugly mother," called by Ukrainians "baba smechom" (hag/crone with sword) is a grotesque parody of our Lady Liberty. The copper lady of New York harbor lifts a lamp beside the golden door. The stainless steel lady of Kiev brandishes sword and shield over a subjugated people.
Baba smechom is tall, originally designed to tower over all other architectural features of this city, including St. Vladimir's Cathedral. This was too much for even the normally docile Orthodox clergy. They made enough noise to force changes in the sculpture; the legs and sword were shortened a few inches, enough to satisfy the clerics.
But, not the people. Pillaging, looting, and ransacking your neighbors is bad enough. Rubbing their noses in it every day with a monumental statue is definitely "ne culturne" (that's Russian for boorish, uncouth!) even for a Communist.
In what is, perhaps, a fitting finale, this monument to bad taste will probably be turned into tableware.
A Quiet Riot
Our bus full of missionary tourists drove past St. Vladimir's cathedral on Sunday, June 21. A quiet but tense crowd milled around. Old ladies carrying large icons jostled with Orthodox clergy in various costumes. The centuries-long brothers' quarrel between Russia and Ukraine has entered a new phase. Philaret, Metropolitan (chief cleric) of Kiev, had been "invited" to Moscow to discuss Ukrainian nationalism and other matters. He was deprived of rank, busted all the way back to monk, and told to go home to his (non-kosher) wife and (illegitimate) children.Philaret responded by declaring the Ukrainian Orthodox Church to be autocephalous (self-governing), rather than an agency of imperial Russian ambitions.
Tensions had been mounting during the weeks leading up to the Russian church's attempt to lay claim to St. Vladimir's Cathedral. A rough wooden "democracy wall" adjoining Independence Square stridently advocates Ukrainian independence. A cartoon shows a burly, grinning Kozak booting a startled czar figure out of the map of Ukraine. A xeroxed pamphlet called upon Christian brothers everywhere to defend Ukraine's treasured heritage of faith from the latest depredations of the barbarians from the North. The crowd was mustered to surround the cathedral, to protect it with their bodies from seizure by the Russians.
The people are as passionate in person. One man asserts "Ukrainians and Russians are brothers! We need to be like this (clasps hands together), not like this (pounds fists together)." Another gentleman wonders aloud about where the Ukrainians can find guns.
A large poster on the wall has a series of dates stenciled on in 3/4" high red letters, followed by explanations stenciled in blue ink. It is a catalogue of all the crimes committed by Russians against Ukrainians in the name of Communism. It is a very detailed and accurate catalogue, including the deliberate famines before WW II, and the atrocities and deportations after. Russian is the language of everyday life in Ukraine. Most of the men have worn the Soviet uniform. Many residents have Russian parents, relocated to this nation in previous generations to obliterate Ukrainian culture. The people find the idea of open warfare between Russian and Ukraine inconceivable. If push came to shove, though, the men I talked to would, like Robert E. Lee, refuse to take up arms against their native land. Stay tuned.
A Tour of Ukraine (Part III)
The tour of Ukraine began with the small, brainy city of Slavutich. The group then moved on for a longer stay in Kiev, a cosmopolitan metropolis of three millions souls. "Roughing it on the mission field" in Kiev meant staying in the brand new Intourist hotel, and taking meals in the dining room. We were attended by people dressed up like waiters who went through the motions, but did not have their hearts in serving the customers. Then again, we did not need to leave any tips.The third stop was Vinnitsia, a provincial city five hours southwest of Kiev. Much of the architecture of this city reflects the monolithic standards of the Stalin era. The team stayed in a hotel built for the party elite of the 1930's, and had meals at a down-home restaurant around the corner. The personnel were far more personable than their starched kin in Kiev, and the food was great.
In Vinnitsia, we came face to face with a less savory survival of pre-communist Ukraine. This part of the world, the home of Rasputin, Ouspensky, and Geurdjieff, can still spawn its own home-grown weirdness. The "White Brotherhood," headed by Peter and Paul reincarnated, is strong around Vinnitsia. Signs advertising the John Guest crusade were frequently torn down by White Brothers. The White Brotherhood publicizes its views using stenciled posters -- text in blue ink, headings in red.
The spectators at the first evangelistic meeting proved far less responsive than in other parts of Ukraine. In Kiev, 90+% of the audience would respond each night to the "altar call." The first night in Vinnitsia, the ratio was more like 20%.
The second day began with a serious prayer meeting at the hotel. The room employed for that purpose had, a year earlier, been used for Communist party meetings. Converted people met in this converted room to pray for conversions in the city. The response that night was far better, and included several people of startling rank. Street preaching in the afternoon went well. The crew gathered at a plaza in front of their department store, distributed literature, sang, and preached. Roanoke Baptist preacher Carl Whorley saw the best audience response of his life that afternoon. He'd learned by reading the faces of the audience to zero in on the message of the love of God. Ukrainians, like people everywhere, needed to hear that they were personally significant, and objects of divine affection. This is especially true in a collectivist culture, that had spent generations trying to crush individuality.
Interaction with Local Believers
In each town, the team interacted with local believers of various flavors. An Eastern Orthodox family in Slavutich extended the initial invitation to the John Guest Evangelistic Crusade, and made the introductions to the civic leaders. After the meetings were underway, an unregistered church "came out," and made itself available for follow-up with the new believers.In Kiev, the team worked with the Center for Christian Cooperation, a service organization that engages in children's ministry, hospital and prison visitation, literature production and distribution, Bible studies, and works of charity. This group is funded with American money, and takes pains not to compete with local churches. Christian Center people escorted us on a visit to burn and cancer wards of a local hospital while we were in town. During the evangelistic meetings, this group distributed the literature and offered follow up services to new believers. After the first night's meetings, the Americans stayed in the background.
I had a very pleasant visit with Gennadi at the center, discussing desktop publishing. The young man knew at least as much as I did about PageMaker, and more about downloadable fonts. After an hour or so, we stopped for a tea and cookie break. I apologized for the way Americans can be pushy and aggressive. "It's our culture," I said. "We don't mean to be offensive."
"That's all right," he replied with a smile. "This is the Christian center. We have to love everybody!"
"Even so," I say, "I imagine there are times when it is just as well that so few Americans understand Russian!" One of the girls in the office giggled -- I had not known that she was an English speaker. Gennadi translated for the other people in the office, and we shared a laugh among friends.
A Sunday service at a Kiev Pentecostal church was instructive. A Belgian United Nations employee stood up and delivered greetings in Russian. Very good Russian, according to our interpreter. Two Pentecostal missionaries from Denmark strummed their guitars and sang a few songs in English, then each delivered greetings. The Belgian gentleman translated for them. The church choir sang a few songs, including at least one in Ukrainian. Ringing, a capella harmonies with powerful voices. George Jones was invited to bring greetings, and delivered a rousing message to awaken the congregation. Finally, last of all, their pastor brought his sermon. The man demonstrated grace under pressure, maintaining his composure, dignity, and equanimity while foreigners overran his church! We were made to feel welcome.
This church was remarkable for the number of handicapped people in the congregation. We learned later that this is a special concern of that fellowship.
In Vinnitsia, the Ukrainian Baptists demonstrated the entrepreneurial drive that marks their American kindred. They jumped energetically on the John Guest bandwagon, and made it their own. Their magnificent men's chorus went with the team everywhere. Several special meetings were staged at their current church, and the team was given a tour at the prayer house currently under construction. Several smiling ladies mixed the mortar under the summer sun. Yes, as I suspected, they were members of the congregation. I've mixed and carried mud in summer, and you do not normally smile while doing that job! The collapsing currency rate in Ukraine has made building materials cheap, and unemployed members donate their labor.
Although Vennitsia has Lutheran and Orthodox believers, we did not meet any on this trip. The Baptists got there first with the most men!
Drinks
We were advised to refrain from tap water in Ukraine, and stick to the mineral water. I followed these instructions carefully, not wishing to ingest any heavy metals, such as uranium or plutonium! The mineral water tastes like Alka Seltzer, but is pretty good when blended with one of the local fruit-flavored soft drinks.There are no diet soft drinks, and no cold soft drinks. Sasha told me that when he was serving in Afghanistan, the soldiers could buy a coke for 10 afganis, or a cold coke for 15. "We could buy anything we wanted over there," he explained. The shortages of everyday Soviet life did not apply to demoralized soldiers in a dirty, losing war.
The cafe next to the Vinnitsia hotel served cherry "kompot" for a few pennies a glass. This refreshing beverage is made by boiling cherries in water, then allowing the mixture to cool.
Soft drink vendors at the Locomotive Stadium in Vinnitsia sold pineapple and tangerine flavored soft drinks for about 3 cents per bottle.
The most impact, though, in the beverage department is exercised by vodka. Our interpreters buffered us to some extent from the beggars and drunks. Rostislav, a computer programmer, and I passed a rowdy crowd while walking through downtown Slavutich. "What are they talking about?" I asked.
"About their jobs, their bosses, their co-workers," Rostislav explained. "It was an ugly conversation." They were drinking, and it wasn't mineral water.
Supplies
The people we saw were well dressed, and appeared well fed. Yet, starvation does stalk the country side. A weekly newspaper published in America for the Ukrainian diaspora carries ads for firms that will deliver food packages to Ukraine. An $89 package contains about 20 pounds of various canned and preserved meats and seafood.In the cities, elderly people depend on their children for sustenance. Childless people do starve. This is what one gentleman told us, who had moved to Ukraine from Russia, in order to inherit his mother's apartment.
One day, when political tensions flared up between Russia and Ukraine, a dollar could buy more than 300 koopons in Kiev's Independence Square. I'd done some shopping that day, and acquired bargains at the rate of 120 koopons/dollar.
The Trip Back
On our last day in Ukraine, we left Vinnitsia at 5:00 a.m., intending to get to the Kiev airport with two hours to spare. This was a wise move -- the bus drivers knew when they started the trip that they did not have sufficient gas to finish it. We learned this useful bit of information a few hours down the road!Time was spent at one gas station after another, pulling into a line of vehicles awaiting the possible delivery of fuel.
At the last stop, the guy with the tank truck asked about who was on the bus. Americans with dollars! A 40% bribe added to the price of the gasoline got us back on the road.
We said farewell to our interpreters in Kiev -- Vladimir of the wry humor and cheerful disposition. Sasha, a university English professor, very sincere, well dressed, who combs his hair across his bald spot. Kostya, frank and informal, an engineer who finds it more rewarding to work in children's ministry. Natasha, who has trouble locating "the colloquial nexus" of the language, and has a taste for "bookish" words. She is the one who taught us the Russian "lobster" idioms. In Russian, you do not offer to put someone's lights out; you promise to show him "where the lobster hibernates!" Improbable events do not happen "when hell freezes over," but when "the lobster whistles on the mountain!"
The Bottom Line
As a rule, Ukrainians like Americans, and dislike Russians. Yet, a cartoon in a Ukrainian pulp magazine shows a well-dressed hand dropping a US dollar bill into a czarist crown. Dictators make the trains run on time, and American functionaries will kowtow and drink toasts to the butchers of Tienamen Square a month after the event.International relations are far too important to be left to pragmatic and unprincipled diplomats. Ukrainians are likable people, eager to build personal relationships with Americans. As I told an Afrikaaner on the flight home, helping to build a free society in that part of the world is a matter of national survival. It keeps would-be tyrants too preoccupied with their own backyards to worry about ours.
If you are considering a trip to Israel, consider Ukraine instead. Your faith will be welcomed in Ukraine, as well as your money. People want to hear a word of eternal hope, and gather eagerly where that word is proclaimed. By contrast, Israel is formally hostile to Christianity, and forbids evangelism. Any money you spend in Ukraine will literally save families from starvation, as it circulates through a ravaged economy.
For approximately the same amount of cash, you can go see where Jesus walked nearly 2,000 years ago. Or, you can go where the eye of faith sees Him walking today.
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