Six years of Ukrainian independence have given people plenty of freedom.
So said many Ukrainians gathered in Kyiv Sunday Aug. 24 for Independence Day celebrations. Butthe uses to which this freedom is being put vary widely, they added: freedom to drive a BMW, freedom for underage drinkers to buy alcohol and drugs, freedom to be proud of one's Ukrainian nationality, freedom to beg.
As a joyous crowd cheered fireworks exploding over Independence Square, the rain of brilliant colors in the evening sky illuminated some of the stark social divisions fostered by independence. There were those who celebrated, those who provided the means to celebrate, and those who made a living off the leftovers.
Happy young people, and not a few sleepy children hoisted on their parents' shoulders, danced to the music of some of Ukraine's best-known bands. Bottles rolling underfoot were greedily snatched up by grubby bottle collectors staggering under the weight of clinking bags. Rows of women stood impassively behind cardboard trays of cigarettes, vodka and wormy apples, patiently waiting for the moment when everything would be sold and they could finally go home. An unusually light police presence allowed everyone to behave as they wished. But one night of revelry did not seem to upset the prevailing patterns of contemporary Ukrainian society.
For street sellers on Andriyivsky Uzviz, making ends meet came before celebration.
“I'm working today,” Natasha Mikhaleva said. “It's a waste of money to celebrate, because we have a lot of problems.” Mikhaleva, 35, wants to emigrate to Germany with her husband. In the meantime, she sells tiny glittering turtles and lizards which she makes from beads: frivolities to please a frivolous crowd.
“I don't believe in real Ukrainian independence, or a Ukrainian future,” she said fiercely. “There's too much freedom — to die of starvation.”
Alexandra Martinova, 50, standing somewhat forlornly behind a display of blue and yellow Ukrainian flags and streamers, seemed bemused by the occasional drunken youths draping themselves in her merchandise.
“This is my temporary business,” she said. “You can't earn money from a permanent job. It's more difficult to live now.”
Tolya and Igor were on the street selling hand-carved wooden spoons, bowls and dippers to visitors from all over Ukraine and abroad.
“Independence is a good idea but there's no execution of it,” said Igor, 29, who declined to give his last name. “At the top there are only bandits and Mafia.” “It's worse financially, but there has been some development and some change,” added Tolya, 31, who also withheld his last name. “Now there's the possibility to bring your ideas to life.”
Back on Independence Square, the crowds were beginning to get rowdy, to the disapproval of a least one group of students.
“I don't like the celebration much, everyone's drunk, everyone's dirty,” said Sergei Mikhailov, 18. He and his friends agreed that independence had introduced undesirable Western ways into Ukrainian life, particularly underage drinking and drug abuse.
Far from fearing Western contamination, Valentina Ditkovska rejoiced in the freedom independence has given her to celebrate her Ukrainian heritage and find out about her family history.
“Only two years ago, I learned that my grandfather was a deputy in the National Republic of Ukraine in 1918,” she said. “I didn't know before because it was forbidden to speak about it.”
A proud nationalist, Ditkovska and her husband were performing with the Gomin folk choir on the steps of Ukrainian House, several hundred meters from Independence Square. The choir, which revives forgotten and formerly forbidden folksongs, drew an audience of mostly middle-aged people who described themselves as patriots, nationalists and even Banderists, after the hardline faction that violently resisted the Soviet annexation of western Ukraine after World War II.
The male choir, in spotless white shirts and drooping Cossack mustaches, sang sonorous and doleful songs. Round and wholesome in her traditional Ukrainian embroidered blouse and skirt, Ditkovska seemed remote from the more trendy young people dancing to Ukrainian pop in the square.
“Of course I'm enjoying the celebration,” she said. “Now we have the right to be Ukrainian in an independent Ukraine.”
