Kyiv

I was born in Kyiv and immigrated to Israel in 2018. The last time I was in Kyiv was three years ago when I visited my parents. I had been trying to get permission to visit from the army for a long time, trying to prove that I would not stay in Ukraine and would not serve there; That in Ukraine there is no mandatory military service, like in Israel, and that girls are not obliged to serve.

I remember a lot from my childhood, but I never thought about what my first memory was. Probably because my mom and dad really wanted to preserve my childhood on cassettes, they filmed a lot, and I constantly watched them over and over. And, apparently, some part of my memory believes that those videos are my memories.

My memories are mostly connected with the dacha (summer house). These were our family trips, when Dad returned from business trips, and Mom cooked a lot. Our dacha was near Obukhov, by car it’s about an hour from Kyiv, and then another 20-30 minutes to go. There was a lake. It was great there. I think because Dad tried hard. He talked to plants, to the trees, he had his own vineyards, he made wine, and we always had berries and fruits.

The home of my childhood is the same building where my mother grew up, just different apartments. My grandfather also lives there now. I spent a lot of time at home, I didn’t play with my peers on the playground a lot, as it usually happens. I went to a private Jewish school, and it was far from home. So my friends were always far away. I spent a lot of time at my grandmother's work, she was the head nurse at the Kyiv blood transfusion station. And also near the "heart" [The Heart Institute], Dorogozhichi. I felt great there, everyone loved me, I was the donation station's child! That's probably why I'm not afraid of blood.

I only went to the senior group of a Jewish kindergarten and, of course, we played a game with money called Sevivon [A spinning top game for the Hanukkah holiday]. Well, of course, there were Pokemon – these round chips that you had to throw. We sold them to each other and exchanged them. At some point, all the girls from wealthy families got not just Barbies, but Bratz dolls with giant heads, and I remember my mother telling me: “When I’ll be able to, I’ll buy you one.” I wasn’t the kind of child who fell to the floor in a store and screamed “I want one!” No, I waited patiently, and later my mother bought me this doll.

When my mother was a child, she often went to Borodyanka. Her grandmother and great-grandmother lived there. My mother spent her entire childhood there. You know, with fresh air and nature. But basically, they all lived in the Shevchenkivskyi district, near Babi Yar and the TV tower, and my father too. When people ask me "Where did you live?", I say "In the Shevchenkivskyi district", and everyone is like "Oh, is that where Khreshchatyk is?" "No, no, a little further..." It's one district, it's just very big.

My father was born in Kyiv, but he didn't have a very good relationship with his parents, so he was mostly raised by his grandparents in Crimea. Then he went into the army and finally moved to Kyiv.

At first, my mother worked as a primary school teacher and a librarian, and then she became only a librarian. This can be easily understood by the kind of house we have in Kyiv - gigantic shelves, books everywhere, the smell of books everywhere.

My father once worked at "Ukraeroruh,” a company that dealt with airplanes and aviation equipment all over Ukraine. Sometimes he went on business trips, sometimes even abroad. For some time he was a driver and assistant to one deputy, and then he got sick of all the politics, and he quit.

No matter how many times my brother and I listen to the story of how our parents met, it becomes clear that they had a lot of opportunities to meet: They were in the same places at the same time, but they didn’t meet. They had a lot of mutual friends. He studied at the naval academy, and she at the teacher training college. And, you know, they used to have parties in the Soviet era - I would have loved to go to them! Watching them dress up, and go dancing, it reminds me of the movie “Hipsters” (a Russian musical film about Soviet time from 2008).

Mom and Dad had been married before, not very successfully. In Mom's first marriage, she lost a child. And at that moment, when she was in a super-long depression, mourning and stressed, unattractive, without makeup, with an empty refrigerator for several months, a friend introduced them. At one point, Dad came to Mom and filled the refrigerator. The next day, he brought her cans of clean water and just stayed to live with her. That is, he liked her so much that they did not even have any conversation about dating, just "Bang!” They fell in love and began to live together. They had their wedding only when I was 6 years old.

In our family, we had a tradition of going to Babi Yar, specifically to the Jewish memorial complex. On Victory Day, we volunteered and helped veterans, now they are all probably gone. On Purim, we went to "Dream Town" to roller skate and ice skate; We went to the water park and ate pizza there, right in the water.

During the winter, we always went to the ballet, my mother always chose something new to see, and if my mother couldn’t, I went with my grandmother. Safe to say, I was such an intelligent child, who went to the theatre and the opera. I sang in the opera, so I had a blast, although I like ballet more. When I was little, there were still all these Christmas children's parties with presents and tasteless chocolates.

My grandmother and parents now live in Karmiel, and my grandfather lives in Kyiv, and I understand him perfectly. At such an age, to move to a country where you need to learn the language again, from scratch, and live in a rented apartment… when you have your own in your own country. And a lot of your own - the language, the currency, and the goods you are used to. You walk down the street and don’t understand conversations, all your friends are far away. I don’t think he feels safe, but he is also ashamed and offended because all his life he believed that “Putin is a good guy,” and then “Bang!” And here it is.

We have a lot of relatives in Israel and my grandmother would come here every year to visit her son, my mother's brother. I remember how she would bring us avocado, hummus, and chocolate that looked like tree bark! It was very tasty.

Kyiv is a very beautiful, green city, associated for me with the university and a happy childhood. A cool city with fashionable people. For me, Kyiv is some kind of separate part of Ukraine.

In Kyiv, I loved going on all sorts of excursions, and archeological ruins. When I came last time, my mother gave me a tour of Kyiv's brothels as a present. This is from the 1800s when brothels were disguised as something (For example, you go into a dentist's office, and there is a brothel behind the dentist's door).

We lived in a place where there was a lot of nature. The Dubki forest, the Dorogozhichi Park, so this is the twittering of birds, of course. Probably also the sound of the metro, when you are already in the train or waiting for the train.

The smell of lilacs, lilies of the valley, the smell of pies near the opera house. If you stand facing the opera house, turn left and walk a bit, there is a super small but famous pie shop. It smelled of this fat fry dough. Because my dad is from Crimea, we went there every year. There, in Crimea, the smell of chebureki (meat fry pies) and the sea drove me crazy. Odessa also has the smell of the sea and chocolate, but Kyiv is more about the smell of flowers, the smell of rain, and, probably, the smell of my mother’s food that she cooked.

Mom cooked whatever you asked. My favorite was chicken with mushrooms.

You know, how in the Carpathians they cook corn porridge with mushroom sauce?

My mother always made it with buckwheat.

We didn't have anything that was only cooked for the holidays, if we wanted something, we asked for it. Poppy seed pies. Grandma cooked all the Ashkenazi cuisine. The most delicious was babka - a kind of casserole with matzemel (matzo flour), salty.

We went to a pizzeria, I think it was called "Mister Cat," it was on Shulyavka. Of course, at "Puzata Khata" restaurant, we ate vareniki (dumplings with sweet filling) there. We loved to discover something new, for example, when a place with Kyiv cutlets opened on Podil, and then a donuts place. Back then, you know, there was no such rush for donuts in Kyiv, and my mother always tried to treat us to something like that. But more often than not, my mother cooked herself. Usually, when people celebrate, they go out to a restaurant, but we were the opposite. We celebrated most holidays at home, and if we wanted to go out somewhere, we just went.

In Kyiv, we use a more elegant, Russian word for entryways, which is kind of like “an entry for nobility.” Many say that the Kievan vocabulary is similar to that of St. Petersburg. I don't know, would I like to be lik a Petersburger now? But, people Kiev mispronounce the word “Theirs,” unlike proper Russian speakers. Kiev used to have a greater Russian-speaking population. When I entered the university, I started speaking Ukrainian, and my best friends were from cities like Lviv and Rivne. They also have their own slang and dialects.

The meeting point in Kyiv is Mariinsky Park, in Lipki. A very beautiful area. It seems that all my girlfriends went on dates there. Architect Gorodetsky Street, if it is not closed because the President's residence is there. It sounds banal, but many arrange dates on Khreshchatyk. Many dates happen on Podil and on the embankment. I also went on dates on Podil and they ended in "Puzata Khata” restaurant. These were the best dates, where they fed me! And, you know, not some fashionable restaurants, but "Puzata Khata" - ours, our own!

All the places that were important to me were in different districts. I lived in Shevchenkivske, went to school in Goloseevske, and went to the choir in Solomenske. The choir was a big part of my life, I sang in it for eleven years, we toured all over Europe, and I adored the girls I sang with. I did not live in the Solomenske district (where my choir was), I was accepted only because my Jewish school was nearby. One day the choir conductor came to the school and chose me, among others. I always envied the girls who lived five minutes from the choir, while it took me an hour to get there. In the winter, in the cold, on Saturdays. I remember when I was thirteen and my grandmother and I were going to the choir, I was indignant, "Grandma! I'm already a grown-up!" They started letting me go alone only when I was fourteen, quite late. I love Kyiv, but it has never been the safest city for girls.

I studied at KNEU [Kyiv National University of Economics] to be a human resources manager. There was a dormitory at the university, where my friends and I sometimes did our homework,and worked on some projects. One day the police came, there were a lot of people, and then it turned out that one girl from a village was hiding the fact that she was pregnant, and her parents, of course, did not know anything. She gave birth to a child in the dormitory and threw it from the fourth floor into a trash bin. She gave birth and threw the baby away! And since then, the dormitory has become the scariest place for me. And psychologically, it was completely incomprehensible to me. I did not know: to hate this person or to pity her.

If I had to choose a symbol of Kyiv, I would choose the arch (Since May 14, 2022, it’s been called the Arch of Freedom of the Ukrainian People). There were always a lot of young people there, some parties, and concerts, it is a rather bright symbol for me.

I miss the architecture. I am one of those people who think Israel is beautiful. They show the local architecture, but has all been mostly brought from far away places. There are various colonies, for example, Sarona. It is all imported, while in Kyiv all this has been built, preserved, survived wars since time immemorial, and all this architecture from Lipki, Khreshchatyk, from the center… You arrive, and your heart just stops! Every entrance, every roof, even stucco! Old high ceilings with beautiful chandeliers. All this heritage, which in Ukraine, unfortunately, is not restored as extensively as in Israel. There is probably less of it here, so it is valued more.

I brought my grandmother here as soon as I moved. I was looking for an apartment for her in Karmiel, she adores it there. At the time of the move, my grandmother knew more about Israel than I did. The only dream I had was to serve in the Israeli army with German Shepherds. Well, all these Taglit and Hilel programs, and Jewish schools, they all influenced me from childhood with the idea of "Yes, I will be in Israel at some point in my life.” But to say that I really knew so much about the country before coming here? As a child, I had a feeling that this is such a small country, a place where, like in the Natasha Koroleva song, it is always warm and everything is clear. That there are wonderful roads, that everything is so perfect here, and then… bummer.

Dad needed an operation and a month before the start of the “full-scale” war in Ukraine, he and Mom came to Israel. They did not plan to live here, they planned to come for a couple of months during the year and then return. They still want to live in Ukraine more than here, but I feel that Israel is my place. At the beginning of the war, I was worried, “Well, the war has started, and what am I doing here?” I felt I should be there, and anyway, I knew how to use a machine gun, I fight well, and I should go to the army and fight. All my friends were leaving Kyiv, Ukraine, but I, on the contrary, wanted to return.

I contributed to the war effort by donating money for projects related to medical equipment, and medicines. There is a place for everyone. There are those who serve and protect, and there are those who go to work every day and donate money.

As it turned out, both here and there, I don’t mean to offend, the state does not offer much help. When the war began in Israel, how many volunteers brought food and clothes? And I thought for a second: Where is the government? Why should people be doing this? Why should people collect their pennies to buy one drone? At the same time, the state can allocate a gigantic sum from the state budget for a television show.

And before the full-scale war, I considered myself Jewish and from Kyiv. I did not often call myself Israeli.

There are many places I want to go when I find myself in Kyiv. Mariinsky Park, the Ukrainian fashion brand COOSH’s showroom, the Lesya Ukrainka Theatre, and I want to drink matcha with banana milk. I don’t feel afraid, but I do have a feeling that after arriving in Kyiv, I will find myself to be like a person in Europe who does not speak English. Mom already knows how everything works during the war, and I don't even know what card for the metro to buy, because I haven't been there for a long time. It seems that there is some kind of gap that needs to be filled.