Bohdan Pryhodko
Kramatorsk
Kyiv
How did you experience war in 2014? What do you remember from that? How old were you? How did 2014-2015 go for you?
Please tell this story in detail.
Kyiv, November 8, 2013, I am in the capital for the first time, walking the streets and photographing every statue, every corner, in order to show it all to my relatives who have never been here before. A paradox! Never to see the capital of your own state? But it's not about that right now.
Then there was a heavy downpour and the "Okean Elzy" concert got canceled, and three weeks later I heard about the capital again in the news, heard the song of Yarmak and saw many, many lights on the Maidan. It was from that moment that the war began. War - in a broad sense. And no, I'm not one of those jerks who criticizes the Revolution of Dignity, but I do see a connection. The war began in my mind, my relatives, my city, my region and my country - against everything russian. The attitudes at home got more and more critical, the idea of an "ideal future without Ukraine" gained momentum. I, a small boy from Donbas, did not know what Ukraine was then, I only observed these moods, these ideas and changes.
March. The revolution happened, the reaction of the separatists began.
Monday: protest with Ukrainian flags on Lenin Square (now it is a Peace Square, without Lenin).
Tuesday: protests with russian flags and calls for "fraternal peace".
I didn't go to any, I didn't even hear talk about politics at home. Everything seemed to freeze in time, as if waiting for the beginning of something terrible.
April. A trolleybus is on fire near the square, explosions and shots are heard from time to time. The separatists seized the city hall and set up checkpoints. The father hides the car in the garage, because there are rumors that "protectors" simply took cars from civilians. But I continued to go to school, I continued to study the same subjects in russian in a Ukrainian-speaking class, I continued to hear teachers' discussions about the "prospects" or "disadvantages" of so-called "independence". I wonder, in this idea, independence was from whom and for whom?
How to explain to a 13-year-old child what a referendum is? How to explain what separatism is? How to explain what Ukraine is?
It seems that the relatives and teachers did not have an answer, but I - completely confused - sometimes worried about ones, then others, then watched the Ukrainian news about the events in Odesa and Kharkiv, then heard from my grandfather 's room the russian channels, where the opposite was said.
Meanwhile, we had a day off at school. What a joy! Sure, but this weekend the "referendum" was held... or what can you call an illegal gathering of people who were gathered with " we will reward you!" claims in order to vote for only one existing item? As it turned out later, my grandfather was there. I hope he will realize his mistakes in purgatory.
May. Back to school, the year is almost over. History lesson. Our "vatna" (t.n.derogatory term for the listeners of russian propaganda) teacher advises us to buy toilet paper for the Ukrainian military. It is interesting that she worked at the school until 2021, when she died of the coronavirus, which she did not believe in. Still, a history lesson.
Explosion. Second. Third. Somewhere nearby. Everyone gathered in the hall. It was announced that our parents would pick us up. Mine were at work, so I decided not to tempt fate and just ran away.
We didn't go to school the following days, it was too hot. It was joy for the child, but it smelled like gunpowder. My father was a smart man, he felt that it was necessary to leave the city, because our soldiers had already liberated Izyum and were near Slovyansk. Dad took my brother and me to a village near Izyum - where there is a forest, where there is a river, and where the orcs have settled now.
In three days, the father took my sister out of Lyman. It was a difficult road under shelling. Therefore, the children stayed with their grandmother, while their parents worked in the city at that time. Every day, long conversations with tears and requests to come to us, every day quarrels with grandparents, every day I heard explosions more and more frequently. The Armed Forces were liberating us.
The most hellish phase of the liberation of Kramatorsk and Sloviansk I waited out in Berdyansk. I never thought that a resort town with a sea could become a prison. I really wanted to go home, to my father, who refused to come to us because of work.
"I'm leaving Lyman, very fast. On one side, ours, on the other - separatists. I thought I would get blown up, there was no one on the road, and I had to make a delivery. A Ukrainian armored personnel carrier shows up on the road, points its muzzle at me, I slow down near them. I get out of the car, raise my hands up. A military man comes out, says, they thought I was declaring a truce and a break, because the car is completely white; they said I was lucky to be alive. The documents got checked and they let me go."
These are the conditions my dad worked in.
I returned home in July. Then I saw my first destroyed house. Semenivka, Sloviansk, Stankostroy. There weren't many people, abandoned dogs ran through the streets. Gradually, the city started to recover, but for a long time everyone was afraid to walk the streets at night. The russians got driven out, but the russian mentality of the citizens did not yet.
2015 year. February 10. It was an ordinary day, after school I sat down at my first computer and read the news about space, which I was so fascinated by at the time. And suddenly everything started to shake. My sister and I were alone at home. The explosions lasted as if for an hour, but in reality it was only a minute. I, hugging my sister for the first time in my life, hid in the bathroom, praying to a god I don't even believe in. Dozens of dead people, many destroyed houses. ´Grad´shelling from Horlivka.
All the stress I was going through, got compounded by the sudden death of my father, unrelated to the war. A strong moral decay shut me off and delayed my awareness of what happened. It caught up with me as early as 2017, when I began to discover the answer to what Ukraine is for me, what it is like, how I want to see it. This happened partly thanks to new acquaintances, partly due to my travels around the country, partly from school and changes in the city. In 2017, I realized for the first time that I am Ukrainian. It was the first victory of Ukraine in this war, the consciousness of the people of Donetsk region gradually revived ´Ukrainianness´ on these thorns.
"Where were you these 8 years?".
How has this time passed for you, what changed in your life since the events of 2014?
What has influenced you the most during this time?
Please write in detail.
Where have I been these 8 years?
Where haven't I. Basically, this period until 2020 I was searching for myself, I traveled a lot in Ukraine with my favorite history teacher, to whom I owe a lot. She showed me our home. She made me fall in love with history as a science.
At the age of 15-16, I came out of depression following the death of my father, which, together with the events of the years 13-14, was for me the dark times and a period of radical changes, a border between childhood and youth. Because of these events, I didn't have the opportunity to be a rebellious teenager and a maximalist, because I took too much responsibility on myself.
I was the only man in my family and had, as it seemed to me, to control all the processes. This was transferred to the school life, where I became the president and began to organize cultural life - evenings, holidays, charity gatherings. But it wasn't enough for me and I completely accidentally met a group of high school students from another school who started to gather creative youth. I just helped a girl carry a fallen drunken man across the road. This is how my acquaintance with urban activism, Vilna Khata, projects, festivals, volunteering, BUT, residences began. I surrounded myself with people who had Ukrainian views and people of values who did a lot to build the future of Ukraine here at home.
The more I traveled around the country, the more I fell in love with Kramatorsk. But time passed and now I had to choose a profession. Among a bunch of options from my relatives, among a bunch of my own options, I settled on the two more or less reliable ones - either to become a director, or to go to ULA (leadership academy) and not study at the university for another year.
Subconsciously, and then actually, I chose uncertainty and the academy, after which I lived in a completely different environment in Lviv. At that moment, I did not doubt my ardent pro-Ukrainian views, but I could not even think it was only the foot of the mountain. I encountered people for whom their Ukrainianness was not a choice, but a default state from birth. It surprised, fascinated and confused me. There was constant competition, I constantly wanted to prove to everyone that the people of Donbas are the same Ukrainians as the people of Galicia. I wanted to destroy this stereotype about "separatists" from Donetsk region. It annoyed me that many people had never been to my area.
In 2019, I reached the peak and completely switched to Ukrainian. I was incredibly efficient, did a lot of projects, played sports and improved my communication skills. Each year became better and better for me. In Israel, I was one of those who shared traditions with the local youth. I represented Ukraine in their eyes.
With the onset of the pandemic, I returned home. All ambitious and ready to change the world. But the world was changing much more slowly than I wanted it to. The environment remained the same, Ukrainianization proceeded slowly but surely. It exhausted me, but it also made me understand that there is still a lot of work ahead. Then I thought for the first time: how can we establish a dialogue with those on the other side of the wall?
In a few months, I finally enrolled in directing. I encountered the Soviet system of culture, which infuriated and destroyed me beyond belief, but over time I mastered this feeling. Then the main question was: what do I want to talk about? And I knew the answer - about home, about the war and Donbas. For many years, the war was overlooked in our society and in Kramatorsk there was no memory of those times. This pleased and annoyed me at the same time. Because the war continued, because people died, because a "gray zone" was formed. The "gray zone" is actually gray, I made sure of this in October 2021, when I was filming a documentary in Svitlodarsk, which I fell in love with and became imbued with. This feeling of frozen time, this closeness to the war, which was not felt anywhere at that time. I wanted to convey it to the audience, I wanted to talk about it.
What was February 24, 2022 for you like?
Did you believe that a full-scale offensive would begin?Where are you now? What do you do?
What do you think about your future now?
Where have I been these 8 years?
Where haven't I. Basically, this period until 2020 I was searching for myself, I traveled a lot in Ukraine with my favorite history teacher, to whom I owe a lot. She showed me our home. She made me fall in love with history as a science.
At the age of 15-16, I came out of depression following the death of my father, which, together with the events of the years 13-14, was for me the dark times and a period of radical changes, a border between childhood and youth. Because of these events, I didn't have the opportunity to be a rebellious teenager and a maximalist, because I took too much responsibility on myself.
I was the only man in my family and had, as it seemed to me, to control all the processes. This was transferred to the school life, where I became the president and began to organize cultural life - evenings, holidays, charity gatherings. But it wasn't enough for me and I completely accidentally met a group of high school students from another school who started to gather creative youth. I just helped a girl carry a fallen drunken man across the road. This is how my acquaintance with urban activism, Vilna Khata, projects, festivals, volunteering, BUT, residences began. I surrounded myself with people who had Ukrainian views and people of values who did a lot to build the future of Ukraine here at home. The more I traveled around the country, the more I fell in love with Kramatorsk. But time passed and now I had to choose a profession. Among a bunch of options from my relatives, among a bunch of my own options, I settled on the two more or less reliable ones - either to become a director, or to go to ULA (leadership academy) and not study at the university for another year.
Subconsciously, and then actually, I chose uncertainty and the academy, after which I lived in a completely different environment in Lviv. At that moment, I did not doubt my ardent pro-Ukrainian views, but I could not even think it was only the foot of the mountain. I encountered people for whom their Ukrainianness was not a choice, but a default state from birth. It surprised, fascinated and confused me. There was constant competition, I constantly wanted to prove to everyone that the people of Donbas are the same Ukrainians as the people of Galicia. I wanted to destroy this stereotype about "separatists" from Donetsk region. It annoyed me that many people had never been to my area.
In 2019, I reached the peak and completely switched to Ukrainian. I was incredibly efficient, did a lot of projects, played sports and improved my communication skills. Each year became better and better for me. In Israel, I was one of those who shared traditions with the local youth. I represented Ukraine in their eyes.
With the onset of the pandemic, I returned home. All ambitious and ready to change the world. But the world was changing much more slowly than I wanted it to. The environment remained the same, Ukrainianization proceeded slowly but surely. It exhausted me, but it also made me understand that there is still a lot of work ahead. Then I thought for the first time: how can we establish a dialogue with those on the other side of the wall?
In a few months, I finally enrolled in directing. I encountered the Soviet system of culture, which infuriated and destroyed me beyond belief, but over time I mastered this feeling. Then the main question was: what do I want to talk about? And I knew the answer - about home, about the war and Donbas. For many years, the war was overlooked in our society and in Kramatorsk there was no memory of those times. This pleased and annoyed me at the same time. Because the war continued, because people died, because a "gray zone" was formed. The "gray zone" is actually gray, I made sure of this in October 2021, when I was filming a documentary in Svitlodarsk, which I fell in love with and became imbued with. This feeling of frozen time, this closeness to the war, which was not felt anywhere at that time. I wanted to convey it to the audience, I wanted to talk about it.