You're reading: A Word with Bill Atamanchuk

A Diaspora Ukrainian talks of his life and work in Kyiv.

Bill Atamanchuk’s passion for Ukraine may not be as fashionable as it was during the Orange Revolution or just following the country’s independence, but that doesn’t keep the 50-something Canadian from embracing the country of his parents in his quiet, regular-guy sort of way.

Growing up in a society that encourages multiculturalism and in a family proud of its Ukrainian roots, Atamanchuk, whose name means something like “son of a colonel,” would seem to be an ideal ambassador for his unofficial cause – reviving and preserving Ukrainian culture.

Atamanchuk himself is still in the process of discovering his roots, which he says is no easy task. His parents are from western Ukraine, but left when it was still under Polish rule, forced by the German army to work at a military plant in Leipzig. Atamanchuk himself was born in western Germany, where his parents managed to flee. They had met while serving as “Ostarbeiters.”

“Trying to find your genealogy from western Ukraine is a nightmare. I know a lot of people who have tried, but they just run into a dead end,” he acknowledges frankly. Indeed, the story of the Atamanchuk family’s flight and resettlement is not unique among the Diaspora.

The family ended up in Montreal, where according to Atamanchuk around 20,000 Ukrainians still live.

Most people associate Montreal with French nationalism, but Atamanchuk tells a different story.

“In Canada, unlike in America, they encourage multiculturalism,” said Atamanchuk. For him, childhood consisted of Ukrainian boy scouts, or “Plast,” dances and concerts organized by the Diaspora community and Ukrainian language and history lessons every Friday night. “You would have thought that after a week’s worth of schoolwork, a child would get a rest, but we would go every week.”

But Atamanchuk didn’t feel any different than the other ethnic groups in his neighborhood, which was inhabited by Italians, Germans and other immigrant communities.

Ironically, his multiethnic upbringing may have been the best preparation for his return to his homeland.

Atamanchuk said he was surprised at just how many different types of Ukrainians he met when he first arrived in the early 90s. He also couldn’t believe how dark Kyiv was back then.

“All the bulbs on the street lights had burnt out,” he said. Before leaving Canada, a friend had recommended that he bring a flashlight with him, and when he got here, he understood why.

Atamanchuk’s first trip to his parent’s homeland was part of a one-year contract with the Canadian International Development Agency, CIDA.

Trained as an IT guy, Atamanchuk had traveled a lot in his work, but “had come to the point where I was bored with my job.” Working as a consultant for newly independent Ukraine’s National Bank, if only a one-year contract, was just the kind of excitement he yearned for.

As fate would have it, President Viktor Yushchenko took over as NBU chairman shortly after Atamanchuk arrived. It was just this mix of personal search and nation-building that continues to excite the middle-aged Canadian.

Nevertheless, it would be another 10 years before Atamanchuk would return to the Ukrainian capital, in 2004, when the country underwent its next major socio-political convulsions, since independence.

The changes which the city had undergone were as striking as during his first visit. Atamanchuk immediately saw the light: “It now looks like Las Vegas on Khreshchatyk, everything was lit up like a Christmas tree.”

During his second visit, Atamanchuk served as an observer for Ukraine’s fraud-ridden presidential election, after which the NBU head, whom he had known, was to become the country’s president. “When I came back as an observer, I didn’t know that there would turn out to be an Orange Revolution.”

Atamanchuk said he has no regrets about not visiting Ukraine during the Soviet period. “I didn’t want to get bused around like a tourist, not being able to visit the places I like.”

His two momentous visits following independence were enough to want to make him stay. Even though prices in Kyiv have gone up a lot since the early 90s and the Orange Revolution has lost much of its romantic appeal, Bill is happy to be here, quietly going about what’s important to him.

“I cannot explain it to you but I do feel roots for this country,” he says earnestly. “Because I speak the language I can communicate with the people.”

Both Ukraine’s language and people are what Atamanchuk feels most strongly about. Neither pedantic nor pushy, Atamanchuk says he is eager to engage ordinary Ukrainians where he meets them, confirming the ties between them and their countrymen living in Ukraine or abroad.

“The Ukrainians, possibly due to coercion, weren’t initially apt to open up,” Atamanchuk admits, but that doesn’t keep him from getting into discussions about local politics, attending local church services, enjoying the food and the company of Ukrainians – all in the Ukrainian language.

“I’m trying to show people not to be ashamed of using the Ukrainian language, he says modestly.

“I don’t try to shame them, I just try to acquaint them with what it means to be Ukrainian.”

“If you are going to have people using the Russian language, using Russian media, you’re not going to have Ukrainian culture.”

Atamanchuk, who speaks fluent French, cites Quebec’s efforts as an example for Ukraine. “Our commonality is Ukrainian culture and the key component of any culture is the language. How can you have a culture without a language?”

But Atamachuk isn’t just about words. Last July, he set up Ukraine’s first English-language rotary club, in addition to the three Ukrainian-language ones already operating in the capital.

“The difference is that ours was in English. The reason was to have expatriates who wanted to take part in English.”

Rotary clubs exist all over the world, boasting over 1.2 million members who help to raise money for local causes.

Atamanchuk’s Kyiv Multinational rotary club, which he is the president of, concentrates on helping handicapped children and orphans.

“Orphans aren’t necessarily kids without parents. Many of the parents hand them over to homes.”

Atamanchuk said his rotary work gives him a chance to give something to Ukraine, rather than just taking things in. But the real reason he stays here is for the excitement. “In just the first year that I was here, I spent it like I had spent five years in Canada.”