The holodmor of 2006!

Living in a country that has survived countless wars, invasions, famines, and untold horrors usually provides me with an amazing sense of awe that these people keep going no matter what life throws at them.  Now, in the midst of a “Russian Winter”, I wonder if any of that ability to survive anything has rubbed off now that the worse winter I have ever experienced has arrived.  Yeah I know what my family is thinking, no freaking way.

Siberian gulag, who needs it when it is f*#%!ing freezing right here in my own apartment.  The last few days we have been battling the cold that has seeped through from Russia.  I suppose I should be glad that Putin hasn’t turned off our gas for a second time.  Temperatures in Moscow have fallen to -35C (-31F) and in Kyiv on the 20^th all busses, street cars, marshrutkas and taxis stopped running because it was too cold.  All that was operating to get hearty Kieveans to work was the worlds most crowded subways system ever.  Here in Sosnivka it was a little warmer, -25C, and school was open and marshrutkas were running, although the windowsboth at school and on the marshrutkas were all caked with ice.  Rumor on the street is that if it stays this cold school will be canceled.  That sounds tempting but school while cold, is much warmer than my apartment so I really don’t know what to wish for a snow day or a few extra degrees of warmth.  Right now to stay warm I am bundled in layer upon layer.  The heat is on but after the steam travels from the steam plant to my apartment it has turned to simply hot water and so the radiators aren’t very warm.  With a high of -20C today you can see why it is so cold.  I have the oven open and the gas turned on and lit, not Sylvia Plath style, at least not yet.  At night it gets worse because I can’t keep the oven on and I am not moving around.  I sleep in a few layers of clothes then climb in to my sleeping bag and then put a comforter and a few wool blankets on top of me and then curl up in to a ball to try to conserve any body heat.  The closing of school and the absence of transportion isn’t the only effect of the cold.  Bread lines are back!

This morning I decided that the best way to beat the cold would be to go get some food and just eat till it got warm enough to venture outside for a considerable period of time.  Well after a few cups of coffee I put on two layers of long-johns, two pairs of socks, jeans, two t-shirts, a long sleeve t-shirt, a long-john top, a vest and a wool sweater, then a scarf, a wool coat, gloves, a hat and boots.  I grabbed my Hugo Boss plastic bags and began the trek to the bazaar.  The cold got me craving beets, borsch, beans and Ukrainian cabbage salad.  Apparently the cold does more to screw up your mind than any drug or shot of vodka could ever dream of doing.  What did I find at the bazaar?  I found line after line, massive lines stringing from one of the few open stands to the next open stand.  What were they selling?  Nothing!  I couldn’t find a potato, an onion or even a beet!  What I settled for was some cabbage.  The frozen fish and liver looked tempting but the thought of standing in a line for an hour to buy it, or rather the chance to buy didn’t sound remotely tempting so I passed and decided to see what the stores had to sell.  Again more lines and very little food.  I mean for God sakes I thought when the wall fell and Gorby packed his bags that the trucks of food started pouring in.  Apparently all it takes is a lot of snow, ice and freezing temperatures to stop the flow of food.

It wasn’t that the trucks stopped arriving it is rather that the old grannies, locals and neighboring villagers that normally sell what they grow have stopped coming because it is too cold to stand in the cold and sell produce for a few hours.  For Ukrainians that is okay, they can dip into what they themselves have grown and make do till the bazaar becomes more plentiful.  However, for the lone Yank without a garden or a root cellar I am pretty much screwed.  Granted I could go on a crowded bus for thirty minutes and hope that there is more food at the bazaar in the larger neighboring town.  There is always, however, the likely chance that there is again no food there so that option is about as tempting as standing in a line in the snow for liver.  So I am going to buckle down, get creative and attempt to whip up something for the next week out of the cabbage I bought and what I have on hand. I am also going to hope and pray that by next Saturday the mercury will have climbed a little closer to zero and thus tempting the farmers to brave the cold and offer up some potatoes and onions for me to feast on.  If not then I am going to resort to waiting in lines for liver, sardines and what ever else is left by the time I get to the front of the line.

Therefore my family’s suspicions were correct and none of the innate Ukrainian ability to survive anything life throws at you has rubbed off.  Not that I really expected it to.  My only experience with bread lines is communion at church and the one winter when I was growing up when the grocery stores stopped getting food due to the few feet of snow that closed the ferries to and from the island and shut down the bridge.  My Mom instigated the threat of ripping off peoples hats and exposing the entire Island to their greasy messy hair thus frightening them enough to hand over the last bag of baggles or the lone carton of eggs.  I was tempted to employ that strategy here but seeing how even in good weather bathing is a weekly habit at best that threat was pretty weak as there was no shame involved.  If the situation continues I am going to have to start getting a little more creative perhaps I’ll start hording the blonde, red and purple hair dye and trade that for provisions to get me through the winter.

Only 328 days till Costco, Safeway and mild winters!