 |
| Holodomir Memorial - Kiev |
If my last entry effectively conveyed the deep blue funk that Lviv reigned upon me, prepare yourself for a see-saw ride to the other extreme. The continuation of my travels in Ukraine were redeeming, both for the country and for my purpose. I connected with new family, paid homage to my ancestors, got closer to understanding life after Communism, and became ever more certain of the amplitude of human kindness on this lone planet.
The trip east began with a ride on Ukraine's new express train between Lviv and Kiev, covering the distance of ~350 miles (roughly the same distance as San Francisco to Los Angeles) in just under 5 hours. This modern beauty was purchased from Korea to link several of the country's largest cities in time for the UEFA Euro 2012 last summer. It was a pleasure, especially since I splurged for first class as a reward for surviving the previous 3 days. Not too much scenery on the way due to the thick, unrelenting fog, but I imagined at various intervals during the journey the caravans of immigrants who passed over this same terrain a century ago enroute to the ports of Northern Europe, driven by the promise of a free, prosperous life in the the Americas.
My cousin Eugene, one of several Barishpolsky mishpocha that have surfaced over the years thanks to the advent of Facebook and Ancestry.com, met me at the train station. Here is a complete stranger who has experienced life in such a vastly different way than me; but we share the same family name and are instantly connected because it matters to us. While the intrigue continues as to the exact ancestral connection, we made fast friends and found common interests and embraced each other whole-heartedly, without pretense.
 |
| Cousin Eugene and our Tour Guide - Bila Tserkva |
While in Kiev, I stayed with a very nice family who went out of their way to ensure maximum satisfaction for their guest. Although the same bone-chilling weather followed me from Lviv, I was able to manage by diving into cafes or descending into the subway to warm up whenever I couldn't feel my face anymore. Kiev is a grand city, full of monuments, beautifully restored churches and government buildings, and wide boulevards. The subway system is a real experience. For about 20 cents a ride, I joined the throngs of city-dwellers at an unfathomable depth for a jam-packed ride underneath the vast metropolis. On several occasions, I recalled stories of attendants in Japan who are charged with pushing people into trains...that's how crowded it was. Sadly, it was riding the subway in Kiev that I was exposed to one of the heartbreaking realities of the city - homeless dogs. Click
here for more information on Ukraine's abhorrent handling of this problem.
 |
| St Sophia Cathedral |
The main reason for my week-long stay in Kiev was to use it as a home base for day trips to Gritsev and Bila Tserkva, two towns that are a part of the family history for the Fleishmans and Barishpolskys in my family. My Ukrainian Manager [UM] (i.e., the woman who I stayed with in Kiev) accompanied me to Gritsev, a 4-hour bus ride into the heart of the country where only Ukrainian is spoken (no Russian). In advance of the trip, we got in touch with some locals who offered out of the goodness of their hearts to show us around town. Mischa met us at the bus stop with a big smile and took us directly to the WWII Memorial a few kilometers outside of town where thousands of local Jews were killed/buried in a mass grave. It was located down a path in the forest just off the main road, a place somehow protected from the world by an impervious shield of serenity. I wondered if I had any family members buried there.
Back in the village, we saw symbols of Soviet prowess, statues of Ukrainian national heroes, and a world seemingly untouched by the 21st century. Upon deeper inspection, however, some modern technology had managed to seep into the village: there was a wi-fi hotspot in the Community Center building and a Peace Corps volunteer in residence to modernize the systems of the office of the Town Council. This is where I met Yuri, an official of some title that I was unable to ascertain, but who had a document to share with me. It was an inventory of bodies buried in the mass grave, assembled some years ago by an Israeli who came to Gritsev researching his ancestors. Back in Kiev, my UM read the names written in cyrillic aloud and I listened for something familiar. As bizarre as it may sound, I was half-hoping to hear a familiar name, so that I could have a concrete, indisputable connection to the village. Even so, it was a relief that there were no apparent matches with any of the family names that are a part of my heritage.
 |
| Sugar Beet Transport - Gritsev |
The remainder of the visit consisted of a stop at the lakeside site that may have once been home to the village's Jewish community, a tour of a museum of local crafts that included a large selection of Ukrainian folk dresses made by girls at the vocational high school, and lunch in the home of our tour guide, Mischa. To make the best impression on his guests, he picked up some moonshine from a friend's house and proceeded to offer it; per tradition, I felt obliged to drink so as not to offend. I was able to fend off much of the onslaught politely, but what I did imbibe gave me bloodshot eyes and warm toes. Thus, the return bus trip to Kiev was slightly more bearable, although I was yelled at upon boarding the bus for not speaking Ukrainian.
The trip to Bila Tserkva was much easier because it's only an hour away from Kiev, to the south on the Ros River. It's also a pretty big city, so the bus connections were frequent and nobody expected me to speak Ukrainian, or Russian for that matter. My cousin Eugene accompanied on this trip because he too was able to trace his family to this city, so he had an interest in spending some time there as well. In another incredible turn of events, we were given the name and phone number of one of the leaders of the Jewish community in Bila Tserkva during a visit to Kiev's main synagogue (Brodsky). We called upon arrival, with no advance warning, and Natella met us near the bus station with an offer to take us to all Jewish sites of importance straight away. Although I didn't plan in advance the details of how I'd manage to find my way or discover what there was to discover in these two places, the cards fell into place and I was dealt a royal flush. My gratitude to those who conspired to fulfill my dreams is immeasurable.
 |
| Shtetl Life - Bila Tserkva |
Bila Tserkva was different from Gritsev in that a thriving Jewish community still exists there. Remnants from the past still exist as well, including the old shtetl (although no longer Jewish), a Yeshiva, and the Choral Synagogue. An active Jewish cemetery exists on the site of the old cemetery that was destroyed by the Nazis, which I see as a testament to the will to survive and thrive. Eugene and I capped of the day of touring with a visit to the regionally-famous Oleksandria Park, with its romantic Classical structures, glades, stone paths and an international collection of trees and plants. We headed back to Kiev satisfied with the day's adventure and a newly-formed visual on the place known previously only as a word written in the documents of my grandmother's mother's family.
So I leave Europe now with a better understanding of where my people came from. The culmination of years of research brought with it pleasure and pain, but in the end, the puzzle is more complete than ever before. It's still blurry in places, but it's enough for me. I am ready to put this chapter to rest, put it behind me, and recalibrate the focus of my curiousity to the present and the future.
