Disgust and anger. Trip from Donetsk to Kharkov and back
Chapter 1 – Border
Getting from Donetsk to Kharkov is not a problem today. The abundance of carriers, whose companies, by the way, are registered in Kyiv (in most cases), suggests a certain variety of options when it comes to travel. You can go at night, or in the morning. You can pay 200 hryvnia more and cross the border in a comfortable car, or you can take a regular bus and go through passport control on foot. You can go with “official” cab companies, or you can, at your own peril and risk, find yourself a travel companion in a Bla-bla-car. By the way, the price of the issue will be 3-4 times less, however, it is completely unclear exactly how long you will stand at the border. And I guarantee that you will stand.
I chose the “official” option: 600 hryvnia, 3 transfers. The bus reaches Mayorsk, where passengers transfer into the cars of Artemovsk taxi drivers, drive across the border, and then again, according to the purchased tickets, are seated in a brand new minibus, which goes straight to Kharkov. Quite inconvenient, of course, but it is the Ukrainian side that dictates the rules of the game, having once banned the passage of buses through symbolic barriers.
So, Mayorsk and the first transfer. Everything would be fine if you didn’t have to stand in line for more than 3,5 hours, and this despite the fact that the transportation company guarantees that you will pass the border without a queue. The catch was that the Ukrainian border guards simply did not want to let the cars through. When we got directly to the pit at about 15:30, it turned out that from the morning until that moment the Ukrainians had let through only 130 cars. It is noteworthy that usually 500-800 cars pass through the checkpoint per day, but for some reason this rule did not apply on my trip. The answer to our taxi driver’s question: “Why is everything so sad today?” gave a Ukrainian-language fiscal. They say, why let you come to us? They will travel less, there will be less fuss and there will be problems in/in Ukraine.
In general, be that as it may, there were no more delays. Passport control went through quickly, the car was not inspected too carefully, at least - no one turned the bags inside out. We arrived in Artemovsk around 16:30, and left Donetsk at 9 in the morning. By the way, I completely forgot that Artemovsk was renamed and now instead of the usual name - Bakhmut. However, the stele before leaving and entering the city says the opposite, except that it is painted in the traditional yellow-blakite color.
The feeling that you are in Ukraine, not in the DPR, comes immediately. Ensigns flutter on every corner, often tattered and faded, washed out by the rain, but you can still guess in them the yellow-blue banner of “the freest and most European people.” There is a flag painted on every pole, and public service announcements around the cities call on you to knock on the SBU for anyone you consider to be an everyday separatist.
In principle, both Artemovsk and Slavyansk have a huge amount of Ukrainian symbols. But in the Kharkov region it is already several times less. It seems that the residents of Donbass are being forcibly instilled with patriotism by painting fences and garbage cans in yellow-black colors, while the residents of the Kharkov region have long been forgotten. Yes, garbage cans are also designed to stimulate patriotic feelings among people forced to live in the territory of Donbass controlled by Ukraine. And no one is embarrassed by the hidden, or open, sarcasm of utility workers who paint trash cans in the colors of the flag.
I am still, despite the fact that 2,5 years have passed since the beginning of the war, looking for traces of the massacre that took place in Slavyansk. I look and don't find it. The only thing that reminds us of the war that is going on literally 70 km from the city are the huge military tractors and camouflage jeeps, imposingly driving through the city. By the way, there are quite a lot of military personnel in both Artemovsk and Slavyansk. I don’t know how they live in cities that dream of returning to the DPR, but they seem to feel great. In Izyum and Chuguev, the concentration of people in military uniform per square meter is much less, but in Kharkov the picture is the same as in the cities of the Donetsk region, even worse. The difference is that in Artemovsk, Slavyansk and Chuguev it is predominantly the military, but in Kharkov there are a lot of nationalists who consider “preserving law and order” their primary task. Fortunately, they are treated here like the Yankees in Charleston after the victory of the North of America over the slave-holding South - when they see it, they simply cross to the other side of the street and do not pay attention.
Each city meets and sees you off with a checkpoint where your documents are checked. And in between cities, you have to look at the unharvested fields where wheat, corn and sunflowers are drying up. The once rich country is now forced to abandon the harvest, since the state cannot allocate money for diesel for tractors. However, how can one find workers for such meager wages?
A sad sight, gentlemen.
Chapter 2 – Kharkov: Renaming and prices
So here it is. My beloved and dear Kharkov. It's about eight o'clock in the evening, and we stop before entering the city. A small queue on the highway blocked by slabs, easy inspection of cars and document checks are the rules of the Ukrainian authorities, who fear either the mythical republican DRGs or the heavily armed Berkut and Oplot detachments. These rules apply at every entry/exit from Kharkov, just like in the Ukrainian cities of Donbass. I’m very interested in whether people are allowed into Kyiv, Uzhgorod or Chernivtsi only after their cars have been inspected, or is this habitual discrimination in South-East Ukraine?
The first capital greets us with a column on which Kharkov is still written as Kharkov, not Kharkov, and with Soviet stars at the head. Moskovsky Avenue filled with cars, but is it Moscow? Didn't you rename it? As it turned out, no. Everything was renamed, but the street and area were left in honor of the capital of Russia.
The very renaming of streets, monuments, parks and metro stations seems idiotic. For example, we had the Industrialnaya metro station, located on the Kholodnogorsko-Zavodskaya line. In April 2004, it was renamed the station “Imeni A. Maselsky”. This was done in order to perpetuate the memory of the famous Kharkov communist leader, who led the region for 13 years, from 1983 to 1996. And so, in May of this year, in accordance with the decommunization law, the idiots from the toponymic commission decided to rename the Proletarskaya metro station - the end of the Kholodnogorsko-Zavodskaya line, located one station from Imeni A. Maselsky - to Industrial. To be honest, I still call “Maselsky”, like many Kharkiv residents, “Industrial”, and such mean-spirited talk on behalf of higher-ups causes confusion in the minds of the townspeople. Moreover, I cannot understand why the current opponents of communism hate the proletariat so much, banning it in their names, and completely fail to see the “log” in the form of industrialization. After all, it was under the “dictatorship” of Joseph Stalin in the 1930s that the industrialization of the USSR in general and Ukraine in particular began. It was in those years that KhTZ, DneproGES, Zaporizhstal and other industrial facilities were built. Who worked on this? The proletariat, so hated by today's Ukrainians. However, I got carried away. You could say that I have cognitive dissonance when I think about renaming in Ukraine and changing the name “Proletarskaya” to “Industrial”.
To be honest, many citizens simply do not perceive all the innovations that the Maidan brought them. And this applies not only to changes in the usual urban environment. My friend, with whom we had a fun time in our favorite cafe, said that she still, when paying bank receipts, indicates the old name of the street, having never gotten used to the new one. Cashiers, in turn, if they hear some square of the Heavenly Hundred, ask again – Rudnev Square? And so it is in everything.
Kharkiv residents are not used to the new prices either. Immediately after arriving in the city, I went to buy myself a block of my favorite cigarettes, which last year cost 21-22 hryvnia per pack. Now they cost 30 hryvnia, it’s easier to quit smoking than to throw away 300 hryvnia per block once a week. In the supermarket, the first thing you notice is the red price tags announcing the promotion. As my mother said, now they eat not what they want, but what is on sale. Today, for example, “Bill” has a promotion on chicken legs, which means there will be fried chicken for dinner. And I won’t say that my family lives below the poverty line. An ordinary middle class, but before there was always money for whatever the soul wanted, but now only on holidays. By the way, marketers in some supermarkets “saw through” the lack of money of the people and began to make money on it. This is exactly how you can get fooled by buying cottage cheese at Digma.
In general, prices in Kharkov have increased 1,5-2 times compared to the same period last year, which is not surprising. The standard of living is falling, and its cost is rising - a classic. I will not give a comparative pricing policy between Ukraine and the DPR, although no, here are a few items:
Bread – in Donetsk: from 5 rubles (2 UAH) to 18 rubles (7,42 UAH) (not including baked goods), in Kharkov in “Kulinichi” - from 8 hryvnia to... Actually, I bought a sliced loaf for 11 hryvnia with small change.
Cigarettes – in Donetsk from 10 rubles (4,12 UAH) per pack and above. In Kharkov, even Prima without a filter costs less than 6-8 hryvnia.
Chicken, or rather, leg - in Donetsk I usually charge for 110 rubles/kg (45,32 UAH), in Kharkov at a discount in a butcher shop - 46 hryvnia, on average the price ranges from 40 to 53 UAH.
It’s not worth talking about the increase in prices for utilities, much less comparing them with those in the DPR. The most inveterate patriots have cried about this more than once in their “KharkovForums”. They cried and swore that they were not paid enough to pay the bills. Nowadays no one is paid as much as in Ukraine they would have to pay for utilities.
Chapter 3 – Cultural part
Kharkov is a very beautiful and well-kept city. Everywhere is clean, the lights are on in the evenings, and at the time of my trip the fountains were working.
Shevchenko Central Park is under reconstruction; they promise to make a stream and a small lake on the main alley by summer. However, “Cascade”, a gathering place for many Kharkov residents, is still in a dilapidated state. It looks especially strange against the backdrop of well-groomed flower beds.
I really wanted to go to the zoo, but as it turned out, it was also under reconstruction. I remember how the unfortunate bears used to suffer in 3 by 4 meter cages before they were given spacious enclosures with swimming pools. And now both canines and cats are in the same terrible situation. Therefore, I really hope that after the repairs, the cages for wolves and foxes will be done as they should be. In 2 years, it seems, the entire zoo can be rebuilt.
Since I didn’t get to the zoo, I decided to visit the dolphinarium. I think I’ll go and relax and look at the dolphins and fur seals. No matter how it is. The prices for the performances turned out to be prohibitively high: on weekdays - 200 hryvnia, on weekends - 250 hryvnia, evening performances for 300 hryvnia. I didn’t even want to think about swimming with dolphins for 600 UAH/5 minutes or half an hour diving for 3000 UAH. Since there was only enough money in my pocket for one ticket, it was decided to discard the idea of a dolphinarium as expensive and just take a walk around the center.
The mirror stream is still as bright and shimmers in different colors. The yellow arch with blue illumination and, as an apotheosis, the Ukrainian flag on the top of the fountain are especially impressive.
During my walks, I observed more than once how Kharkov residents had mini-picnics in public gardens and parks. I don’t mean a quick snack with a hot dog on a bench, but a full-fledged picnic with wine, glasses and budget pizza from the Buffet. Honestly, I don’t know whether it’s romance, or the usual lack of money and the opportunity to take a girl to a cafe.
Regarding cafes/restaurants/clubs. I sat out with friends a couple of times in establishments, spending twice as much as I expected. Even a trip to a regular McDonald's is now becoming expensive, because for 2 poppy menus and your favorite cheese fries with cranberry sauce you had to pay 2 hryvnia. And keep in mind that one of the menus was Happy Meal. So, going to a restaurant or pub is now, alas, becoming a holiday rather than a regular Friday affair. But it turns out it's not for everyone. Some, being fairly wealthy people, eat oysters specially brought from France. Well, I didn’t choke with envy over the French oysters in boiling butter, being in the immediate vicinity of a fashionable restaurant, and I won’t choke now either.
As for cultural life. It is boiling and in full swing. On an alley in the park, Shevchenko suddenly discovered a poster of her favorite band, with whose songs Vadim Samoilov more than once came to the DPR with free concerts, and in the LPR he was awarded the medal “For Services to the Republic.” How can this be, I think, since Samoilov is prohibited from entering the territory of Ukraine for his recognition of the people’s republics. She rubbed her eyes and read the inscription. It is not Vadim himself who arrives, but his younger brother Gleb. It turns out like in the Bible - each creature has a pair - each part of ex-Ukraine according to Samoilov and Agatha Christie.
In general, quite a lot of different exhibitions, concerts and events take place in Kharkov. Which, however, is not surprising. After all, even if artists flock to wartime Donetsk in flocks, what can we say about the First Capital, which was not affected by the conflict? Life is in full swing, it’s a pity there is no money.
Chapter 4 – Conversation with a Patriot
Walking in Kharkov, I could not ignore Freedom Square and the probably already buried monument to Lenin. The entire Sumy, the road leading to my destination, is hung with the banners of a free European Ukraine. It is noteworthy that during all my walks I saw the greatest concentration of flags only in the center. In residential areas, they hang only on the buildings of PrivatBank (as well as some others) and on flagpoles near official or educational institutions.
Instead of my own monument, although I was still living in Kharkov when it was toppled, there is now a fence with photographs of those killed in the ATO. However, instead of pictures of “brave Kharkiv residents”, for some reason Donetsk and Lugansk are indicated on the sides. Either this stand is divided into three parts in three cities, or I simply did not understand the idea of its creator.
Opposite the regional administration there is still a ridiculous tent for raising funds for the ATO. The sandbags lined around the perimeter and apparently designed to protect valuable property from evil and hungry separatists look especially ridiculous. As I got closer, I realized that I couldn’t get away with just photographs of the “horrors committed by Muscovites,” so I would have to get together and talk to one of the tent guards. As it turned out later, this is not a security guard, but a volunteer acting on a free basis.
I come up, discreetly turn on the voice recorder on my phone, so as not to come up with all sorts of things at home, and say: “Hello.” A second later it dawns on me that I am speaking the language of the occupier and Stirlitz most likely failed. However, a rather joyful smile and a response in Russian: “Hello!” lead us to the next dialogue.
Me (smiling): So I decided to come up, say hello, and talk a little. Do you mind?
Patriot: Of course not. Many people come here just to say hello, some of whom I already know personally.
I am: And what? Do a lot of people really come?
Patriot: Well, in 2014-2015 quite a lot of people came. We were interested. And now it’s mostly the military who are only approaching.
I am: Soldiers? Why do they need this, they have already seen everything.
Patriot: No. At least they can communicate and talk. They rarely see normal people, so they come up to us. They have no material needs, they do not ask for anything. They just need to talk. One is from near Volnovakha, the other is from Stanitsa Luganskaya. They are lying here in the hospital.
I am: Here? On Trinkler (a street in the city center where there is a pretty good hospital)?
Patriot: Yes.
The volunteer’s partner, Patriot 2, intervenes in the conversation.
Patriot 2: Should I give you souvenirs from the war?
Me (surprised): In what sense?
Patriot 2: Well, some shell casings?
Me (stunned): What for?
Patriot 2: Well, let it be.
I am: No thanks. I don’t need such good things at home. You can't bring something like that into the house.
Patriot 2: Why? I brought the grenade launcher home, and I have a lot of shell casings and cartridges.
I am: No thanks.
Patriot 2: Yes, everything is inexpensive. 20 hryvnia zhenka.
Patriot: Leave the person alone. You should also offer her “Smerch”.
Me (interested): And what is there?
Patriot 2 (smirking): If we need it, we'll find it.
I am: Tell me, why did you put sandbags around the tent? Are you expecting an attack? What are you even doing here?
Patriot: We protect. Previously, the quilted jackets had to be driven away. They came here to talk - about the war, about life.
I am: Why did they just come?
Patriot: Like why did you put this on? And what is it? Do you really think that Kharkov will listen to you? What are you doing here and how much are you getting paid? This used to happen regularly, but is now quite rare. They realized the polarity of the city and their helplessness. IDPs also come up very often.
I am: From Donbass? Why do they need it?
Patriot 2: And they are 50 to 50. Half are those who: “AAA! Dill!”, and half are adequate normal people.
Patriot: More Kharkiv residents, those who helped ours on Maidan in 2014, are coming up. But this money is still donated to the ATO. In general, many people gather on holidays, walk, and watch. Sometimes they just talk, sometimes they give money to our soldiers.
I am: What's going on in the city anyway? A lot of cotton wool?
Patriot: How can I say it? Ours now hardly go out anywhere, they work, they fight. Unless they gather for the holidays, like October 14th.
I am: UPA Day?
Patriot: Not really. Defender of the Fatherland Day. And cotton wool, as such, is almost gone. The majority of those who are protesting now are not cotton wool, they are so, they just don’t like something. Well, we are all human, you can’t please us all.
I am: What can I say? Kharkov is a city of ordinary people.
Patriot: Yes. For example, there are only a few tents like ours in Ukraine. Is it still in Kyiv?
I am: I do not know.
Patriot: So, in Kyiv, Nikolaev, a couple more cities. After all, it is very problematic to find people who will be on duty near the tents on a volunteer basis both in winter and in summer. I arrive at 4 am, for example, and leave around 10-11 at night. In the summer we spent the night here too.
Me (transferring the conversation): Why is our flag so torn? It looks like his dogs were fighting him. It can't be like that.
Patriot: To be honest, we ourselves are ashamed. But this is the kind of matter that breaks literally instantly. China. We don’t make the material here. We change it once a month, it can't stand it anymore. It constantly tears, but cannot withstand sewing.
I am: Clear. Damn, I wonder why we can’t make normal material to sew a flag? Well, okay, this is not a question for you. And also. Tell me, just seriously, why did you barricade yourself?
Patriot: Don’t you remember how the quilted jackets constantly attacked us? Just a year ago they tried to set it on fire. They distracted us from this side, and set fire to the rear. It’s good that the material practically does not burn, so it was quickly extinguished. They used to come often and scare me with pistols. This big guy stands there and unbuttons his jacket in public so that I can see his trunk. They came to talk several times so that we could wind down. Well, we are already scientists, we don’t get into fights ourselves, but as soon as someone tries to talk about their life with a gun in their jeans, we call the police. Everything happened.
I am: By the way. What do you think of our new police? As for me, it was necessary to leave the normal cops, the old ones. Otherwise these new guys don’t know anything.
Patriot: Don't tell me. The old cops were often separatists; they did not protect us, but from us. And the new ones are normal guys. And there are few separatists now, they are all registered, they are afraid.
I am: Why isn't that enough? They say in Kharkov there is about 70% vata.
Patriot: Well, about 25% and they are all under control. This is what the SBU does. There they look at their activity on the Internet, and if anything goes wrong, they immediately lead them into conversation. That's why they sit in holes and are afraid. Now the police are full of us. I know good men, they stood on the Maidan, they are now, for a minute, working in the criminal investigation department. They once approached us, they wanted to find out who we were. We checked the databases and realized that now they don’t touch our own people, they even protect them. And the new police are normal.
I am: Yes, they hit so many cars, it’s terrible.
Patriot: Well, if you count how the new police work compared to the old one, man-hours, I don’t think the new one is worse. The old one hardly went there, the Berkut patrolled the district, and we have to do this ourselves. And what they broke, the Americans will give new ones. They gave these as gifts. This is nonsense, believe me.
I am: Well, let's look at the elections in America.
Patriot: You know, as one political scientist says, what he or she says is not important at all. They do not have a totalitarian regime where one person can decide everything. Yes, even if Trump wins, no one will allow him to recognize Raska as right. After all, they consider themselves the center of the world, so what Trump says and what he will do later are different things, but in any case he cannot turn the American pillars and start pursuing a different policy. This is geopolitics. Unfortunately, Rashka does not understand this.
Me (tired of the conversation, interrupting): I understood. Thank you very much for the conversation, it was very interesting.
Patriot: Come over, don't be shy. Nowadays you don’t see many girls who are interested in politics.
I am: Thank you bye.
This is the interesting dialogue I had with the tent guards. It is noteworthy that they completely believe in what they say. And moreover, they are not at all embarrassed that they speak the language of the occupier.
The stands themselves near the tent show Kharkiv residents the horror that “Russian mercenaries and terrorists” brought to Donbass. After all, not every city dweller will agree to go to Donetsk to see and check whether what is being said on Ukrainian television is true. And why go? You can go to the square and find out everything, and at the same time buy shell casings for 20 hryvnia per coin to completely immerse yourself in the flair of war.
Epilogue – Back to Donetsk
I would not describe this part of the trip, since it is in many ways identical to the first chapter, but an extraordinary incident happened at the border, which I decided to describe anyway. Traveling with me was a Donetsk woman who had been living in Turkey for more than 3 years with her child and husband. She often travels to the DPR to visit relatives and always brings them gifts. This time she decided to bring 10 bottles of perfume for her friends, 2 boxes of Turkish baklava for the children and a cigarette rolling machine for her uncle, 1 kilogram of tobacco packaged in 2 packages (750 grams and 250 grams) and the actual empty cigarettes. All this was packed in 2 suitcases, from which the customs clearance tags from the airport had not yet been removed. This is the background.
The story itself began while checking the car. We were very unlucky to have a Ukrainian-speaking employee. Usually these people find fault with all the people traveling to the republics. As soon as he approached, it became clear that there would be trouble, as his first phrase was: “Everyone turned away. You don’t need to know what and where I’m looking,” naturally, spoken in Ukrainian. Wild situation. How come I can't watch him rummage through my bags? What if he puts something there, and I’ll have to prove for a long time that I’m not a camel?
The first thing the “crest” did was to reach into the “Turkish woman’s” suitcase. Perhaps he liked it because of its rich pink color, or perhaps because of its size. Be that as it may, but, having unpacked it, he already mentally rubbed his hands. Things from the suitcase were carelessly thrown onto the dirty floor in the trunk and onto the asphalt. Going through his clothes, the fiscal finally got to the perfume. It is impossible to say that they were hidden, they were simply folded in the middle of things so that they would not break.
-How many perfumes do we carry?
– 10 bottles for friends.
– Do you know that it’s impossible to wear these insoles? I'm confiscating it. You can only have 2 pieces. What else do you have?
What happened next resembled complete Ukrainian hell. “Khokhol”, without hesitation, rummaged through his underwear with the excitement of a hound dog, while commenting on the choice of my neighbor’s husband on the trip. He confidently stated that she was a Muslim. After her denial, he also confidently said that she was lying, because he knew for sure that all Christians in Turkey were being killed. Further theological discussions had to be postponed, as the “crest” found boxes of baklava. I mistook them for some exotic Turkish drugs and decided to unpack one. But there was nothing to complain about, so the unpacked and fingered sweetness returned back into the hands of the hostess. Another suitcase contained a cigarette machine and accessories.
– Do you understand that tobacco cannot be transported? And in such a vase. So, you’re not going any further, let’s go and file a protocol.
Another customs officer approached and “began” to persuade the Ukrainian to let the lady through. Naturally, he was in no way, he already smelled the sex and cigarettes that he might have. And then the bargaining began: for a box of baklava, 750 grams of tobacco, a couple of packs of empty cigarettes and 6 bottles of perfume, they decided to release the “Turkish woman” without drawing up a protocol. Moreover, all this should have been ostentatiously thrown into the nearest trash can. The girl did just that, but after a couple of minutes turning towards the trash can, I no longer saw the bag that had just been taken from our car. Only the door to the passport booth closed quietly.
This whole humiliating search, which I, by the way, travel to Kharkov quite often, saw for the first time in 2 years, tried not to say anything. It was clear that if I stuttered, I would definitely not be spending the night at home in Donetsk. The other passengers also swore through clenched teeth, but could not help out loud. Heroism in this situation could end badly for both the hero and the “Turkish woman.”
All the way through the gray zone, passengers, the perpetrator of the action and the driver were indignant at such an outright robbery. And if the situation with tobacco can still be somehow understood (although how can we understand it? At the Kharkov airport they calmly let in such a quantity of tobacco), then why can’t we carry 10 bottles of perfume? In general, we came to the DPR with upset feelings. Fortunately, customs here went through quickly, and after a couple of hours I was already in Donetsk.
The most negative thing about my trip to Kharkov, there and back, was precisely this moment. Even the soldiers on the streets of their hometown did not evoke such wild disgust and anger. It is in this moment, it seems to me, that the whole essence of today’s Ukraine is revealed: to grab someone else’s property and, preferably, quickly and more, because the freebie may soon end.
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