Hi!
It is hard to tell how I feel now. Abandoned, determined or disappointed. This week, when Kharkiv was attacked heavily, and many people died because of a crazy tsar in the kremlin, I had this salty taste of loneliness.
We are in it alone.
Of course, you support and maybe even care. I don't want to sound ungrateful. Nonono.
We are simply in it alone.
I wanted this letter to be different. I had the photos from yesterday's exhibition where they showcased the paintings of Kyiv at night. They were so beautiful. Maybe someday soon, I will show them. I love to bring Ukraine closer to you.
But today, on my way to the cafe, where I planned to write this letter, I saw the rally in support of Azov defenders. They have been captured for more than two years. I rushed home to get the camera and took many pictures. These pictures were mixed with the tears and pain of Ukrainians.
Perhaps you won't like this letter. There is nothing to enjoy in it.
Today is Kyiv Day, a kind of birthday, but the Soviets invented it. In the late 1970s, they decided to have a big celebration. Perhaps they desperately needed to show the West that Eastern Europe was not worse than Western civilization. Initially, the Soviets claimed that Kyiv was 2,500 years old, but later revised it to 2,000 years old when they didn't get approval from UNESCO. Eventually, it was agreed that Kyiv was founded in the 5th century, and the specific year chosen was 482, seemingly at random.
I listened to some historians, and they say that Kyiv as a city emerged in the 9th century.
It was just a short pre-story to the letter. Today, I want to talk about Kharkiv. Kharkiv. Kharkiv.
I will mention two major attacks that happened this week.
May 23, Thursday. A printing house, Faktor-Druk in Kharkiv, suffered a direct hit from russian missiles. Seven people were killed and 21 were injured. I want to put here the photos of those who were killed 💔.
Over 50,000 books were destroyed, and at least three publishers were affected.
May 25, Saturday. russian forces hit a hypermarket in Kharkiv. As of now, the death toll has risen to 16 people, including a 12-year-old child. Twenty-five people were injured.
It took over 16 hours to extinguish the fire.
The other day, on Twitter (now X), I wrote why, in my opinion, russians need Kharkiv. If you missed it, I will copy it here:
In November 1917, after collapsing of the russian empire, Ukraine’s People's Republic was proclaimed. It didn’t want to collaborate with the bolsheviks, and when the Red Army captured Kharkiv, they came there and made the city the capital of a new Soviet Ukrainian government. Soon, the city was liberated and captured by the Soviets again in 1919. Officially, Kharkiv was the capital of Soviet Ukraine from 1923 to 1934. As putin has mad dreams of restoring the russian empire/soviet union/peace in his head, capturing Kharkiv will be a significant step toward fulfilling these dreams.
Oh my, it is such a hard letter.
After this attack on the printing house, I saw another story about Kharkiv. There is a short history lesson now.
In 1933, the RUKH publishing house in Kharkiv, which published books on Ukrainian art and literature, was closed and liquidated almost overnight. All the books in the publishing house's warehouse were destroyed.
Before 1933, the cooperative publishing house RUKH, which was established in 1917, was active in Kharkiv. It was able to effectively compete with the state publishing house, which had a monopoly on book publishing at the time. RUKH was the first to publish complete collections of many Ukrainian classics and Ukrainian translations of popular world classics. The books they published were affordable, easy to access, and had tasteful designs.
The RUKH publishing house also had its own bookstores, through which it distributed its products and advertised them.
After the bolsheviks came to power, it became increasingly difficult for RUKH to operate. In the early 1930s, the Soviet party leadership started to express concerns about the Ukrainian cooperative printing house's successful work at its congresses. As a result, the cooperative was shut down in the winter of 1933.
Before I finish the letter, here are some more photos from today.
I need the biggest ever cup of warcoffee now. I will make one.
Covered with a thick blanket of loneliness,
Yaroslava