Memories of Kyiv

As I sit here on the Borneo coast of East Malaysia, my mind is continually drawn to another place, the Ukrainian capital of Kyiv. 

The horrible news coming from Kyiv in the past week has burdened my heart and mind. This is not to say that Kyiv and Ukraine suffer alone. In nearly every way, the people of Homs, Damascus, Bangui, Juba, and a number of other cities where friends dwell are suffering even more. But Kyiv has always had a special place in my heart and memory. 

I first stepped out of the Kyiv metro onto Independence Square in the autumn of 1999. I was attending a conference in the far-flung suburbs of Kyiv that required taking an electric train, transferring to the metro, and making an internal metro transfer to reach the city center. Independence Square (Maidan Nezalezhnosti in Ukrainian) is neither the biggest, prettiest, nor grandest square in that part of the world. It is far from the loveliest spot in the striking city of Kyiv. Yet it seems unquestionably to be the heart of the city and, especially in recent years, the country. 

The Square in happier times. The bell tower of the beautiful and ancient St. Sophia's Cathedral is in the upper left

Long before I knew it, this vast square was known as the October Revolution Square, and if I'm not mistaken, Lenin once gazed down from the far end. Like much of central Kyiv, the square was built after World War II destroyed much of the area in a grand Stalinist style. It is probably one of the finest example of this monumental school of architecture which makes so many cities in that part of the world so striking. At one curved end, a number of narrow streets enter the square, descending the hill from the higher and more ancient Sofia Square. I've enjoyed a number of good coffees and pastries on those narrow, sloping streets. The other end of the Square is dominated by the Ukraine Hotel.

At some point in the early 2000s, the square was massively remodeled to include a multi-story exclusive shopping center under the square, a sort of temple to commercialism. The square is bisected by the broad Khreshchatyk Avenue that sweeps in Stalinist style through the city center. 

I have walked these streets many times over the past 15 years. Changing trains at the busy subway junction beneath the square. Grabbing a quick bite to eat at the mall food court or a nearby restaurant. Meeting a friend. Enjoying a festival. Buying a book at an open-air book market. Emerging from the subway to explore some of the fine parks, ancient churches, or other beautiful areas nearby. When I think of Kyiv, this square is what comes to mind. 

The Ukraine Hotel (from Wikipedia)

So it's hard not to think of these familiar places as I hear of the Ukraine Hotel now serving as a hospital, morgue, and sniper position. As I see photos of the the burned out buildings lining the square and corpses amidst the burned barricades. As I hear of friends' loss of relatives in the violence and fear for other relatives rushing to aid the protesters. This is not the first time the people of Ukraine have come to the Maidan. It is not the first time that they have fought for Kyiv. Given the continuing political, economic, and geopolitical complexity of the place, I fear it may not be the last. 

Ukraine has been good to me. I have had wonderful and memorable meals in grand restaurants. I have had even more memorable simple suppers and cups of good, strong tea in tiny kitchens of Soviet-era apartments, seminary dining rooms, and cozy village homes. I have enjoyed good conversations on long overnight train rides with complete strangers and during long car rides with friends. I have had many conversations that blend Russian, English, and Ukrainian in a strangely effective mode of communication. I have walked the streets of many of its cities, from Lviv in the west to Donetsk in the east. 

Indeed, Ukraine has been good to me. I am thankful and blessed. May peace come soon to this dear place.