Олександр (анонімно) Oleksandr (anonymous)

* 2005

  • Probably, political boundaries somehow emerge very gradually in childhood. I remember my first big trip with my family to the Crimea. It was in 2012. It was definitely a realization of the Ukrainian Crimea. However, I can no longer remember why it was like that. My mother also spent certain periods of her life there when she worked as a waitress in one of the Crimean establishments during the summer in her youth. There are stories like that, too. For some reason, I now recall vividly: my interest in economics, politics, and social structure began in childhood, most likely thanks to my father. He was interested in scientific TV programs, knowledge about industry, and to some extent, regions. I wouldn't say it was a deep interest, but it was there. And, probably, through conversations with him, I gradually learned some initial aspects, understanding what Mariupol is, why it is the way it is, what Ukraine is. And for some reason, I vividly recall from my childhood how I enthusiastically collected — but didn't collect all of them — magnets from Rastishka yogurt, specifically those in a series featuring the regions of Ukraine. Each puzzle of this region had some symbols of these regions. I remember collecting a few, but for some reason, it stuck in my memory as an understanding that Ukraine consists of a certain number of regions and some geographical boundaries. However, I can definitely say that the cultural field, my grandmother's stories, and so on, somehow often blurred this geography. What was on TV since childhood... It was such a short period when some Russian television was still available there. I remember some kind of "The Field of Wonders" that was broadcast. There was some kind of understanding, some kind of floating in this boundless space, and it was strange. And, of course, the Russian language, the fact that many people were interested in Russian cultural products, Russian entertainment programs. This blurred the boundaries. I remember when my parents watched a program called "Nasha Rasha" when I was a child — it's very strange to watch it now. Then there were regions that you seemed to know nothing about, but they gave you some knowledge that this could be something close and familiar to you. And that's where these “disruptive” stories came in — in this geography in your head. What definitely confirmed Ukrainian geography was school education from childhood. This is, after all, the unconditional influence of the subjects “Me and the World”: they were called differently in different periods of the educational program, but they were, so to speak, civically oriented subjects that tried to educate you and give you an understanding of Ukraine, its variety, diversity, and territory, united by some common ideas. And basically, after elementary school, it definitely becomes an awareness of Ukraine. Fortunately, somehow, the Russian world and code did not penetrate school education very much.

  • Once it became clear that there were Russian shellings near Mariupol, that they [the Russians] were exerting influence, and that more military personnel were appearing in the city, active resistance to the Russian military began in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions — and then there was a greater awareness of what was happening. Over time, it all crystallized in my mind and, probably, in the minds of many others. By the way, I just remembered that in the spring or early summer, just when this temporary occupation was happening, one day at school they just sent us home, I remember packing our bags, but then we didn't need them. Although I know that quite a lot of people left the city during that period and then returned a month or two later. At that time, my family didn't really have a strong awareness of what was happening or an understanding of what needed to be done to prevent it. I remember how my mother spent a week — maybe more — at her workplace sorting through the burned city executive committee building, namely looking for documents that had burned there. As she still says now, they came and threw everything away because everything smelled of smoke. And then the beginning of [20]15 is particularly memorable. It was probably one of the worst days for the city before [20]22. It was January 26, if I'm not mistaken, [20]15, when the Russians heavily shelled the Skhidnyi neighborhood. And the Skhidnyi neighborhood is exactly where my father's apartment was, my father's parents' apartment. At that time, only my grandfather and great-grandmother lived there. Fortunately, my grandfather was not hurt, but more than twenty people were killed. It was Grad [rockets]. And at that time, it was very shocking for the city, because then, for the first time since 2014, it was the local residents, ordinary residents who were not involved in any processes, who suffered the most. And then it became clear that this was not happening somewhere far away, but close by, and could happen at any time.

  • I found it quite interesting to arrange my life independently. I was happy to return to Ukraine and be in the Ukrainian context. I really missed this environment, the people, this constant connection with events. Even when you are abroad, and you understand that there is some kind of shelling going on in Ukraine, it is very disturbing that someone is feeling the consequences, someone is feeling these emotions, and you are not. And you lose that connection with the environment. I only had a few classmates with whom I could meet in Kyiv, just starting to enroll. The first year, we had distance learning. And, you could say, it was also a period of amazing self-development and reflection on the experiences I had. I am very grateful to my parents for allowing me to live through this period on my own and return to Ukraine. My father had already left on a voyage abroad, on a ship, while my mother and sister remained in Germany. Later, I returned to them at the beginning of... You could say, winter. I was still seventeen at the time. I lived there for one more period, over two months. It was a more interesting and enjoyable period abroad, as I realized that I still had an apartment in Kyiv and a connection to that place, that I would return here in any case. There was no struggle with my mother or family about the fact that I definitely had to return. There was already a certainty that could not be shaken.

  • The memory that, for me, the territory of Ukraine — in the past, the territory of Mariupol as part of Ukraine — was the most comfortable place in my life, and this left me with no choice but to stay here. I feel most comfortable here, despite all the problems that may exist. Here, I feel most free. In some ways, it is a question of language and traditions, but in many ways it is also a question of environment, both physical and mental, of what our cities are like, of our everyday practices in them. I missed this incredibly when I was abroad. Although, of course, now that I am no longer abroad, I am interested in learning about other environments, primarily to compare the practices we have here with those in other cities. But there is also a kind of civic duty in this return, which is important to me. I need to be here to feel Ukraine directly. Probably, after everything that happened to me back then [in Mariupol during the siege of the city], this connection has become even stronger. And also, when I think about how my ancestors lived, even though they were all from different regions and many of them may not have had Ukrainian roots, it still tells me that I have to be here. At the same time, the geography of my travels somehow resembles the geography of the movements of people from my family in the past. And I like that. Today, I can no longer say that I want to have... I may want to, but I am not ready to have a permanent place of residence in Ukraine right now, because Mariupol is still my permanent home. And I'm not sure that I can have, or am ready to have, a permanent place of residence somewhere else.

  • Celé nahrávky
  • 1

    Kyiv, 28.06.2025

    (audio)
    délka: 03:04:12
    nahrávka pořízena v rámci projektu Returning Home
Celé nahrávky jsou k dispozici pouze pro přihlášené uživatele.

The most beloved remains somewhere

Oleksandr is a geography student. Born in 2005 in Mariupol, where he spent his childhood and youth. His family did not leave Mariupol when Russia-supported militants of the self-proclaimed „Donetsk People’s Republic“ occupied the city in 2014. Since then, Oleksandr has developed a habit of reading the news to stay informed about the city’s life. After Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, Oleksandr’s family decided to stay in Mariupol — and remained under siege until mid-March. On March 17, they left for government-controlled territory via a „green corridor“; at a Russian checkpoint, Oleksandr underwent interrogation. The family stopped temporarily in Dnipro, where Oleksandr finished high school. From there, they set off for Austria and subsequently to Germany. However, Oleksandr decided to enter a university in Ukraine. He moved to Kyiv before the start of the 2022–2023 academic year. In 2025, Oleksandr is in his fourth year of study and is also involved in a student organization focused on community development in Ukraine.