Say goodbye to chocolate eggs, chocolate bunnies, egg-hunts and any sense of a Hallmark Easter holiday. In Ukraine, "Paska" is the most celebrated holiday of the whole year...even more so than Christmas! The celebration revolves around a similar sense of tradition that we North Americans hold dear to our hearts, but with a little more religious depth and meaningfulness that our own culture may lack as we hunt for Cadbury Mini Eggs and over-indulge in chocolate.
It's Orthodox Easter, we have another week off, and I was fortunate enough to spend the weekend at Ina's parents' farm, 3 hours south of Kiev. The town is called "Katerinopil", renamed (from its orginal Ukrainian translation of "Swamp") after Katherine the Great, who visited it and fell in love with the landscape.
We arrived around midnight with a feast awaiting us. Immediately, Heather and I were forced to break out our bad Russian (well, hers is much better than mine!) and Ina was kind enough to fill in the gaps. Over the course of the weekend we learned a great deal about their life during the Soviet Union, the affects of Chernobyl on their town, as well as how their family celebrates "Paska".
The first morning I awoke and had my first traditional Ukrainian breakfast, which I was both intrigued and skeptical about. By the time we were all up, there were about 7 dishes on the table, of various meats, potatoes, salads with mayo dressing, deep fried fish and complete with shot glasses and her father asking if we were ready for vodka! It was quite a way to start the day. But despite my initial surprise, I quickly got used to a huge breakfast that would usually last me till 7pm at night. By the fourth morning however, Heather was asking if we could have just eggs and toast and Ina's mom was kind enough to cook us up some comfort food.
Honeybee farm in front yard
Ina's father took us on a day-long road trip to surrounding towns to learn about the history of Taras Schevchenko, the famous Ukrainian poet who wrote the poem "Zapovit" (mentioned in one of my previous blogs). When visiting the village where he was born, we got side tracked and ended up testing out the playground equipment of the local school! Compared to our school, the equipment looks more like a military training base, and Ina explained why. Apparently in high school, the students take a course that prepares the boys for the army, and the girls for tending to the them. She told us how she was trained to nurse, while the boys learned how to set up AK-47s. Every year the schools hold a special day to show what they have learned, and according to Ina, they re-enact their roles as soldiers and nurses.
Ukrainian squirrel!
Fields of gold
Taras Schevchenko's childhood house
His writing table where he wrote "Zapovit"
mock trench on school ground
playground equipment
Ina and me
Later, Ina's father showed us a photo album he had made from his time serving the Soviet army, during the cold war. He was stationed in Siberia 1983 for 2 years, and missed the birth of his first child (Ina). He told us how during those years, you were never told where you would be stationed until you got there, since people were fighting for the idea, rather than their country. He later told us this was the case when Chernobyl's reactor exploded in 1986: all the men who were sent there had no idea where they were going, or what they were going to clean up - until 2 weeks later when most of them were dead.
The entire book was handmade by the first-year soldiers (in his second year, Ina's father was promoted to officer) and the cover was even made from an old uniform!
He also showed me his USSR member of party pocketbook, where he had to pay a fee each year (around 1% of his salary, a minimum of 2 kopeks) and get a signature to show that he wants to become a member. Apparently,each person is given one of these books when they turn 16. It is a sort of 'right of passage' to become a member of the communist party (which everyone hoped to be) When they turn 28, and have had no black marks on their name, they are automatically accepted and don't have to pay the monthly fee any longer.
Hand-made photo album
Before the big day (or night), food is prepared several days in advance, so when we arrived some of it was already made. Below is a picture of the popular 'stuffed fish' that was actually really delicious.
The popular desserts in Ina's household were two different no-bake cakes with sour cream icing! The one in the picture below was made with a base layer of cookies, topped with a single banana. Then, she covered the banana with a sort of cheese-egg-sugar mixture (exactly those 3 ingredients) and the icing was drizzled on top (made of sour cream, sugar, and cocoa). It's the Ukrainian version of Cheese Cake!
The night before easter day, we all went to bed after a big meal. At 3am we woke up, and the food baskets were all prepared for us to bring to the church, where a midnight mass had been taking place. (Actually, it's more like an 11 o'clock mass, cause that is when it started). The mass lasts about 4 -5 hours and culminates in a ceremonial blessing of ALL the easter food.
SO: the night we leave, a basket (or 2, in our case) was prepared with a sampling of EACH food item we would be eating the following day, including the Easter wine, and a jar of water which, once blessed, would be holy water to keep for the whole year. Our basket had bits of mashed potatoes, some salad, a fish-head (from the stuffed fish, above) and pieces of all the other meats we would eat. The most important item (it seemed) was the Easter bread, known as Paska, was placed in the middle of our spread and a candle was placed in it to represent the Holy Fire (from Jerusalem) that reached Ukraine and blessed the bread.
As we started to drive we passed all sorts of people walking, and biking with big baskets. When we arrived where the church was located (around 3:20am), there were already 2 long lines of people facing each other, starting where the church stood. We positioned ourselves at the end of one line, and walked up to the church to buy candles (on for the Paska one for ourselves). Walking back in the dark, there were probably over 1000 people from all the surrounding villages who had driven, walked or biked to this one church to have their feast blessed. Each person had their basket infront of them, and had candles in the Easter bread.
Our basket
When all the candles were lit, it was a glowing walkway leading up to the church.
Priest blessing the bread
Finally, around 4am, the church bells started to ring. At this point, Ina's father told me that the priest does 3 laps around the church, and then starts his descent along one row of people -- blessing their food --and the people-- with splashes of holy water. He then turns around and moves back towards the church blessing the opposite side. By 5am, he had reached us, and we were drenched in holy water, along with the bread, eggs, and fish head!
We drove home, cracked open the wine and vodka, and toasted to our success! Around 6am we all crawled back into bed until it was time for our easter feast, around noon.
Our Easter feast!
On our last day at the farm, Ina's family had arranged for us to go horseback riding. We were picked up on a rickety old cart, and 'drove' along the highway to the ranch in a nearby village. Enroute, we were greeted by a few interesting sights!
At one point, we passed a herd of cows being shuffled along the road by 3 women. Ina told us that in small villages, each household is responsible for herding the cows to the fields for one day. Unlike Canada, farmers live in towns close together, and travel out to the fields to work. Same goes for the cows. They live on the property of the owner, and are shuffled out each day to the fields to eat. Meanwhile the owners get on with housework and wait for their cow to return so they can milk them.
Our Ride
waiting for the cows to come home
We arrived where the horses were kept, and were told that the land was originally used as a collective farm. Many of the buildings were just rubble, a result of the collapse of the Soviet Union. Villagers and farmers broke the old storehouses and used the material to build other things.
remains of the collective farm
The horse we met was extremely tame, although when her male steed saw strangers riding her, he got so furious he broke free of his chain! Luckily after the help of 6 other farmers circling him and cathing him, he didnt try and kick any of us. It was my FIRST time riding a horse on my own, and I think it may have cured my mild fear of them!
Our trip back to the farm was one to remember. Besides freaking out about our cart breaking (as there were 6 of us balancing on makeshift benches), it started to downpour on our way back. It was pretty surreal to be sitting in an old rickety cart, trotting through the pine forest in torrential rains. Definately one of my favourite memories from the weekend, and the most difficult to capture on film:-)
