whereabouts: Crimean Tatars' settlement

Crimean Tatars settlement in Koreiz, Crimea, May 2013

Of all the photos I have taken in the Ukraine during my stay in 2013, this photo is special. It matters to me. Over the weeks I had become familiar with this sight: A Crimean Tatar woman. Every evening she would stand at the corner of the street, burn her waste and watch it burn, stir around in the waste with a log. Burning waste, a ritual.

The corner is situated in the village where I stays, close to the coast. On my route home from the bus stop I would walk past this corner. All the days before I had not dared to take this photo. But this time – it was around the end of my stay – I did not pass by but and climbed down the small hill from the upper road and moved closer to the scene. My camera does not have a zoom, the zoom is in my legs.

During the Soviet area, the Crimean peninsula has served as a sanatorium where reupatble workers from all over the Soviet empire would spend their vacation. The Crimean peninsula was known for its pure air.When I planned my vacation, I was very looking forward to staying in a healthy environment surrounded by pure air, only to find myself in a toxic environment.

The evening we arrived in Kiev, we already noticed the fumes. To be precise: we noticed the fumes even before we had landed. You could see heavy fumes wandering around the outskirs of Kiev from the air. Fumes in colours we don't get to see in Austria. What we did not know back then, was that these fumes were resulting from fires in the woods, but from waste and that they would accompany us during our stay. Every single day. From dusk. Till dawn.


I would have to close my windows in the early morning hours as well in the evening. And in the afternoon. That's when the Crimean tatars' burnt their waste. All kinds of waste. Paper. Plastic. Wood. Plastic And more plastic. Having spent most of my life in Austria, I am not used to the fumes of burnt plastic. The fumes almost ruined my vacation. I turned into a Pavlovian dog: as soon as the fumes entered the room, I would rush to the windows and shut them.


My host repeatedly went across the street and told them to stop with the waste-burning. For years she had been trying to convince their neighbours to stop burning waste. She did it for two reasons: one, because she hated it and two, because she felt responsinble for my wellbeing. It was useless. The neighbours would not quit burning their waste.

Why would someone burn waste in the middle of the neighbourhood? You might think this photo is the direct response to a non-existent waste management. Which is not the case. Waste management exists. It is not the best around, but still better than, lets say, the waste management in Southern Italy. Russians, Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars live together on the Crimean pensinsula, door to door, but found only Crimean Tatars in the street, burning their waste.

I experience such a careless behaviour – in a slightly modified way – at home in Vienna. My neighbours. They open the door of their car just before they leave, so they can toss their litter. They leave and their garbage is spread in the street. And me? I watch this and cringe. Needless to say my moved to Vienna from a country in Southern Europe? Outch. I have enterted thin ice by now, asking questions like 'Why wouldn't they give up this behaviour?' Racism did not just knock on my door, it already took a seat, right next to me.

whereabouts: bathhouse cafeteria in Yalta

The current situation in the Ukraine exceeds my understanding.

My story would read like "A few months ago, the Ukraine called the E.C. for big money. The EC refused. The Ukraine went out of control. People died. Crimea became part of the Russian empire. More people die. The EC plans to transfer big money to the Ukraine."

Since I am obviously not in the position to report, I ask my photos to tell their story, like the one about the bathouse in Yalta.

Early evening at the баняin Yalta, Crimea, May 2013

whereabouts: Crimea, 9 months ago

9 months ago, I travelled through a region of Europe, that is a blank area for many Austrians: the Ukraine. I knew nothing about the Ukraine before I went there. You might remember this blog entry: The Hat Ladies.

I picked a small language school not far from Yalta. Lena, my teacher lives in Simferopol. She and her aunt, who owns the school, both teach Russian, they speak Russian and yet .... they are committed Ukrainians. Everything I write here is based on my experiences during those four intense weeks. I am fully aware, that my impressions don't exeed the level of being lets say - sketchy. I am not in the position to understand how the recent politics function over there. Not in four weeks with language skills on the level of A1++. Still I want to explain some things. In case you find me writing false facts, please correct me!

The Ukrainian flag hanging on the balcony

Not far from the village the Crimean Tatars settle and build new villages. Crimean Tatars were deported to Uzbekistan under Stalin. In 1988, Michael Gorbatschow's politics made it possible for them to come back. They build new houses, because their old houses now belong to those, who moved in then the Tatars were deported. Over the years they new owners earned the right to stay in their houses.

To be accepted as a settlement, the newly built home has to be equipped with a chimney, a window and a roof. This explains all the shacks on the hills, even in the woods:

beginning of a new settlement in the woods

 Often the new settlements carry the name "Mikroregion" - Mikroregion-1, Mikroregion-2 etc

microregion-2 outside Bakhchisaray

Those microregions are located outside the villages. Sometimes a bus goes there, often the new residents walk up the hill to get to their homes. You don't hear about the microregions in the news. Hardly anyone reports about the Tatars. As you can see: there is a lot going on! The society is changing.

a more established settlement at the Black Sea coast.
Many Tatars sell the approved building lot and make profit

Every day during my stay, I did learn new things about the history and present of Crimea and the Ukraine. I watched, I listend (ok, I did not understand that much) and I learned. I also learned a lot about pigs. Human pigs.

If I know one thing, then it is this: people in Simferopol who speak Russian and don't automatically want to be a part of the Russian empire. Maybe that's why the referendum only offers to choices: Yes or Yes.

on the rooftop of Hotel Yalta in Yalta

The photo calender 2014, which my friends and parents received for Christmas, is well equipped with photos from Crimea. Today the same square, where I rested in front of the airport in Simferopol, while waiting for my delayed flight back to Kiev, is occupied by the military, violating national aw, because they are Russian.

the airfield in Simferopol, capital of Crimea

Retrospective I can not believe how lucky I was. Such a timing! Having been there just recently feels like a privilege. Those three weeks with Lena and her family as well as the one I spent with Mr Paula - doing a round-trip - they left so many imprints on my blank area. I hope for a future Ukraine, where I can go again, to continue to reduce the blank area.

Last year the trip from Vienna to Simferopol was complicated. But still, the connections from Kiev to Simferopol existed. Whereas today, there are not flights available going from Kiev to Simferopol.

airport mural in Kiev

heading South

Sevastopol in the far back

an ancient cemetary near Bakhchisaray

a "beach" in Sevastopol with a late USSR-monument in the fog.

Ukrainian banana

water that pretends to be beer

buying a ticket for the trolleybus

most of the trollybusses are conducted by women

while men drive the marschrutki, dreaming of fast cars

a businessmodell in Koreiz

pipes are a common sight in the woods

the pine trees around Ai-Petri after a fire

lunch at the "Old Fountain" in Koreiz

the market in Simferopol

sign at an amusement park. well ...

The Russian and the Ukrainian fleet, side by side

Sevastopol in the late afternoon

seamen in Sevastopol

a young peach in Valentina's garden

on top of the mountain Ai-Petri

at the "beach" in Alupka

"just do it"

 

Crimean family entertainment

 

cherries in Valentina's garden

Now, that I have put all these thoughts and images down here, I can return to Vienna, where I am at the moment. Vienna looks like this today:

Have a comfy weekend, I still got some Roman stories to tell, but not today.
Paula

The Hat Ladies

While being on a trip, it is always nice to have something to focus on when taking photos. I met a woman who focused on butterflies. It did not take too long and I had found my personal focus: hats. Crimea is definitely a hat place.

Hat lady in Sevastopol

Hats in Mischor

For the less fortunate the city provides alternatives in a larger scale:

Promenade in Yalta

Hat lady in Cimeis

Back in Vienna

Hello!

I am back from my trip and spent four intense, beautiful and educating weeks.
Now I am busy converting the RAW files into JPGS.

I did not expect my outfit to match the appearance of ancient chapels that well. I am almost invisible ;-) (Day 1 of our trip - before the tanning set in).

Lunch in a Crim-Tartarian-Restaurant, you sit on cusions. It was an open air restaurant, no windows, just curtains waving in the breeze.

Inside a cellar in a 400-year-old-cave village on a mountain top. Now that I see the photo I realise I jumped on the omnipresent adidas-band wagon. adidas seems to be the only sport-label in the Ukraine.

The only downside during our trip was the fact that bears had been extinct on the Crimea long ago. The bears could not make new friends. Bruno did not seem to mind, Marie-Curie was a bit upset at first.

On our way to the mountains

Unexpected sights in the woods

New settlements, called microregion. Crim-Tartars who had been deported in the Stalin-regime return to the Crimea.

Wild West in the East? Reminds me of old Western Towns: wide streets, no pavement, two-storey-buildings.

I guess you can tell I have been to a country that is very different from my home-country.

How have you been, how are you?
Paula