Leaving my heart in Kyiv
An emotional morning tour of the city's oldest historic sights. Plus UK disaster in Moscow, trouble brewing in Bosnia, troop buildups, what to read / listen to.
“They know Russia was born here in Kyiv. You don’t attack your own mother.”
It was 10am this morning and I was standing with Valentina, an older woman who teaches English at a Kyiv primary school, (we met on the flight to Kyiv) in a harsh wind on the exact spot with a panoramic view where Kievan Rus was supposedly born. Valentina had just recited some famous poetry to me in Ukrainian, and was tearing up. We hadn’t spoken at all about Russia or politics until that moment. I felt shivers. “I fear dark times are coming,” she said. I tried to provide comfort. I am sure I failed miserably.
Valentina was walking me around Kyiv’s oldest historic sights. She offered a tour, met me out front of the Golden Gate metro station (bright and early my phone was buzzing by 8:45am), and came armed with photos and books like a professional tour guide. I was really not expecting it. I thought we might have a stroll and drink cup of coffee together. Valentina showed me the imposing Golden Gate, the entrance to Kyiv during medieval times (locked by security could not go inside). We then strolled to the “heart of the city” per Valentina, the gorgeous Saint Sophia Cathedral (locked by security could not go inside). From there we strolled to the hill overlooking the gorgeously ornate St Andrews Church in the photo above (locked by security could not go inside). The hill has stone remains of what was the first church in Kyiv built before 1000 AD. We also popped inside a tiny new chapel, and there was an actual service being held by two priests, despite not a single churchgoer in attendance.
From there we walked straight past the British Embassy (the security guard did not even flinch, perhaps the most modest embassy I recall seeing, ever), past the Ukrainian ministry of foreign affairs (monstrous Soviet-era monolith), to the statue of Princess of Olga of Kyiv, who adopted Christianity and was a powerful and influential leader of Kievan Rus. Valentina observed, describing one lousy historical husband (the names started to blur a bit), “the weak ones are always the cruelest”. True that, I thought to myself.
On that uplifting note, we walked back towards the beautifully sky blue and newly restored St Michael’s Cathedral. Along the church’s outer walls are photographs not only of the people who died on Maidan in 2014, but also of all the soldiers who have died fighting in Eastern Ukraine. Valentina didn’t mentioned it, and I didn’t want to pull her off course, but there were many fresh flowers along the sidewalk under the rows and rows of photographs. We were allowed inside the cathedral and it was really magnificent. From there, we strolled to take in one last panoramic view of Kyiv. “That bridge is called Friendship of the Peoples,” Valentina said with a hint of melancholy in her voice as we stood quietly overlooking the city and the river below.
As she walked me back to my hotel, Valentina shared with me that her own father, who was a communist party functionary, had been sent during the repressions into exile to a gulag in Kolyma. He was rehabilitated and survived. I couldn’t believe she shared something as personal as that with me. Valentina’s stories of the past put everything happening today in a bit of perspective. She helped me to better see just how very, very old Kyiv is, and the beauty of all the buildings from all those centuries blending together. “How did the Germans not bomb all the churches?” I asked, truly curious. “They are cultured people,” Valentina replied, and I thought to myself, who will ensure the Russian army doesn’t destroy Kyiv’s irreplaceable churches and historic sights Russia’s modern, self-proclaimed tsar is apparently keen on seizing?
Valentina refused to take any compensation for her tour. She was insulted I even offered, which made me feel horrible, but I apologised profusely and gave her a hug and thanked her for her time. It felt like a totally inadequate thank you. I couldn’t imagine someone would take the time to show me around and share professional knowledge just because we chatted for a few minutes in an airport. I felt so lucky this morning and frankly undeserving of such special treatment.
Kyiv is magical and I will miss it so much. It took me a while to learn to love Moscow, I never learned to love Belgrade, I can only handle St Petersburg in small doses and preferably in summer, but Kyiv was easy and for me at least, truly love at first sight. I was continuously pleasantly surprised and I cannot remember the last time that happened to me, anywhere.
I really did not entertain any war thoughts while in Kyiv, it just seemed so unthinkable in a busy, bustling, happy city of 4 million people. But then you open the internet and you can’t really push them away. The endless TikToks of tanks and field hospitals are weaponised mind games at this point.
In Moscow, the British foreign minister made things worse with a horrendous gaffe today: first parading around Red Square in +2C in a hat Russian women haven’t worn since the 1980s, and then not actually knowing where Rostov and Voronezh are…i.e. thinking they were in Ukraine, mixing them up with Donestk and Lugansk until her own ambassador corrected her. Yes, really.
Not to be forgotten, the Balkans are simmering again — Bosnia has never been properly dealt with and it’s not a problem that will disappear simply because everyone is busy with Ukraine. Quite the opposite. I could imagine a scenario under which Dodik gets a call from Moscow at exactly the least opportune time for the EU and is ordered to stir up a bit of trouble as a distraction. Bosnia’s problems are chronic and like any chronically ill patient, it will not get better with wishful thinking.
Do also watch this BBC report which provides the historical context so important to understand today’s problems.
Finally, I loved this novel (set for a lot of the time in Soviet Kyiv) in translation. To be honest I bought it and forgot about it because I found the cover less than enticing but yet another reminder to never judge a book by its cover. It is excellent. Deliciously dark. I found myself liking the narrator even though I was probably supposed to be disgusted by a lot of her behavior. The translation is great because it reads very naturally.
There have been so many reports from Russia and Ukraine lately it’s hard to pick just a few, but I would recommend this from a Ukrainian town near the border:
This from a Russian city near the border (incidentally one of the two Liz Truss did not know are in Russia!):
And this on troop build ups and the Belarus-Russia military “exercises” now underway.
I also caught up on a few podcasts, both on Russia-Ukraine. Nothing really new in either one of them (both a few days old now), but they provide good context if you feel like it’s all a blur at this point and want a quick overview of all the moving parts.
For more photos from my walk with Valentina this morning, please see my Instagram.
I am now back in Vienna, but I left my heart in Kyiv, as they say.
