I keep a diary. Yesterday I read some of the things written down in last two years and countless times it mentions Ukraine.

Ukraine has been and still is on my heart. I have friends from Ukraine, I like Ukrainian food, I visited Ukraine as a teenager with my family, I love Ukrainian sunshine and for me it is more than just another world headline. It is a place which is not far from Latvia. It is a place which inspires and challenges and worries us. It is a place which I was finally able to visit again.

The stops were Kyiv – Lutsk – Kyiv. I cannot speak Ukrainian but it helps to know Russian. Especially when you have to catch an express bus in a very busy Kyiv station where an average foreign visitor could get very confused and stressed. There is this strange feeling that I have done this before – familiar vibe and familiar behaviour of bus drivers. Something that is hard to explain to those who did not grow up in the Soviet Union. For example, the feeling that buying food from some places is like asking for a favour. These two guys were just standing and playing on their phones and almost nothing on the menu was available.

The kind of small things which annoy but also help me to feel like an “insider”. A foreigner who does not have a culture shock. In a strange way I find it endearing. One thing that my American husband noticed right away was how serious and tired many people looked. Again this frown on people’s faces and hurried walk – so familiar.

Then the beautiful countryside of Ukraine and surprisingly nice, new highway from Kyiv to Lutsk. And the sunflower fields!!! The camera cannot capture the feeling. You get reminded of how huge this country is – the biggest one in Europe.

Understandably some people wonder – was it safe? This question is always interesting. Where is it safe? Some of my most uncomfortable moments have been in Latvia and the USA. But I know what they mean. They mean the war. Isn’t it dangerous to go to Ukraine now? Yes, it is but only if you go the southeastern part where the fighting continues. In comparison it is a very small area of the country and for most people the life is absolutely safe.

It does not mean that life is easy. Even though I went to a music festival where people relaxed and enjoyed themselves as much as any other festival in Latvia, Germany, Thailand or elsewhere, there are constant reminders that all is not well. In fact, it is very very difficult and people are struggling with discouragement and disappointment.

More on this topic later but I want to finish with one little story. In Lutsk I met a taxi driver who said some wise words (from my experience taxi drivers tend to do that). He did not speak English, we did not speak Ukrainian, so again he was glad that we had one language in common – Russian. His comment was like this: “During the USSR days, we all had to speak Russian. Now many people say that I should speak only Ukrainian. I don’t care – Ukrainian, Russian, English, Spanish… as long as we talk to each other kindly as human beings.”

This is how Lutsk rolls… Walking street named after a famous Ukrainian poet, Lesya Ukrainka

Latvian:

Es rakstu dienasgrāmatu. Jau kopš pusaudzes gadiem. Šonedēļ sāku pārlasīt pēdējo divu gadu ierakstus, un neskaitāmas reizes pieminēta Ukraina.

Ukraina man jau sen ir prātā. Tur ir draugi; man garšo ukraiņu ēdiens; esmu bijusi bērnībā Krimā kopā ar ģimeni; man patīk Ukrainas saule. Ukraina nav tikai ziņu virsraksts. Turklāt tā ir tuvu Latvijai. Biju priecīga par iespēju aizbraukt uz turieni augustā.

Brauciena maršruts Kijeva – Lucka – Kijeva. Kaut gan ukraiņu valodu neprotu, labi, ka noder krievu. It īpaši Kijevas centrālajā stacijā, kur meklēju eksprešus, kas brauc uz Lucku. Vidusmēra tūrists tur apjuktu un būtu lielā stresā. Man bija tāda sajūta, it kā es šeit jau būtu bijusi. Pazīstama atmosfēra, pazīstama šoferu izturēšanās. Viss notiek ātri, mazliet agresīvi, bez lielas laipnības. Gribi, brauc; negribi, nebrauc.

Tiem, kas nav dzimuši un dzīvojuši bijušajā PSRS, šīs lietas galīgi nav saprotamas un pieņemamas. Piemēram, sajūta, ka pērkot ēdienu tev gandrīz jālūdz, lai apkalpo. Divi džeki bija tik aizņemti ar saviem telefoniem,  un pacēla acis vienīgi, lai pateiktu, ka gandrīz viss, kas tiek reklamēts, jau ir izpirkts.

Šīs mazās nianses, kas var kaitināt, man palīdz justies kā “savējai”. Ārzemniecei, kurai nav kultūršoks. Savā ziņā tas pat palīdz nodibināt ātru saikni ar šo valsti. Viens, ko mans vīrs, amerikānis būdams, uzreiz ievēroja, cik nopietni, pat drūmi, un steidzīgi bija vietējie. Un man atkal ir šī pazīstamā sajūta, jo Rīgā jau nav daudz savādāk.

Pa ceļam vērojot Ukrainas ainavu, atliek vien izbaudīt. Pat šoseja no Kijevas uz Lucku bija pārsteidzoši jauna un laba ar vairākām joslām. Un tad skaistie saulespuķu lauki. Fotokamera nevar noķert to mirkli un sajūtu. Arī apziņu, ka esi vienā ļoti lielā valstī. Visplašākā valsts Eiropā.

Bija draugi, kas vaicāja – vai tad tur bija droši? Tas vienmēr ir neviennozīmīgs jautājums. Kur tad ir droši? Mani paši nepatīkamākie atgadījumi ir bijuši Latvijā un ASV. Taču es saprotu draugu rūpes. Viņi runā par karu. Vai Ukrainā ir droši? Lielākajā valsts daļā ir.

Bet tas nenozīmē, ka ir viegli. Kaut arī vairākas dienas biju mūzikas festivālā, kur cilvēki atpūšas un bauda brīvo laiku un izklaidi, uz katra stūra ir atgādinājumi, ka valstī neiet labi. Ir ļoti grūti, un cilvēkus ir pārņēmis diezgan liels pesimisms un vilšanās sajūta.

Par šo tēmu es vēl uzrakstīšu, bet šoreiz beigšu ar vienu brīnišķīgu epizodi. Luckā mēs satikām taksometra šoferi, kurš teica viedus vārdus (man ļoti bieži gadās tādi gudri un filozofiski taksometristi). Viņš neprata angļu valodu, mēs ne vārda pa ukrainiski, tāpēc atkal noderēja kopīgi zināmā krievu valoda. Viņa komentārs bija šāds: “Agrāk padomju laikā mūs visus spieda runāt krieviski. Tagad man saka, lai runāju tikai ukrainiski. Man vienalga, kādā valodā – ukrainiski, krieviski, angliski, spāniski, bet galvenais, lai runājam cilvēciski (по-человечески).”