We were late for the 1st May Parade. There were no people by the Opera Theatre. How beautiful Odessa is. How much I love it. Everything is gentle and soft. My sunny, my happy Odessa. Such an easy place to live and breathe. I am wearing a blue flowery dress. We are adamant to catch up with the parade. Too many things: the pushchair, kids and my husband. In vain. I call Leonid. The people are already in Kulikovo Pole. On the way there I got two flags: an Odessa flag and a British flag. Russian flags had sold out. I didn't buy a Ukrainian flag for some unknown reason. There were not that many people in Kulikovo opposite the Trade Unions Building. I walked along the tents to pay my silent tribute to the Berkut guys killed in Kiev just 2 months before. Sasha put a Saint George's ribbon on his wrist.
All the Odessans have gone away to the countryside for picnics or to their country houses. I don't have a country house. So instead we went for a little drink in the park by Kulikove Pole.
Leonid found us there. He was saying that we had to do something about the situation. I admitted we had to. What did I do? I finished up a glass of chardonnay. Why is it that so many people over here believe that America is our friend but Russia is an enemy? Leonid confirmed Andrew's words that there would be a lot of football fans tomorrow and there were chances of heavy fighting between Kharkov and Odessa supporters. We didn't stay long and soon went on to feed the kids.
When we got back home the Odessa flag was put up on our block of flats. I thanked the condominium lady for having done so.
2 May 2014
I listened to the guys and we didn't go to town that day. Instead we went to Illichevsk.
2 p.m. Illichevsk is very clean. Cabernet, Mum's burgers. My Mum and I are chatting about the enemy's defeat. Victory will be ours. Churkin is our hero, and the only warrior in the battle field. Only weak and faceless liberals are afraid of Putin. Odessa is a Russian place and I can"t wait to wake up one day in a renewed epoch, the epoch of great spirituality. Our only way is with Mother Russia, and there is no other way and can't possibly be as it is the only natural course of events. I was saying to my Mum that a Russian God has not been cancelled yet, and everything would be wonderful.
4 p.m.
There was a call from a colleague of mine. Are we in Kulikovo Pole? Of course, not. I didn't want to see Kharkov ultras and so went to Illichevsk. Good. She said it would be the best idea to stay where we were for some time.
6p.m.
Back home. The TV is on. No! It is not happening.
Everything which I had before: earrings, flowery dresses, eternal Odessa sun, the sea smell, the heat from the steppe, the smell of acacia trees, lessons, clubs, friends, gatherings and picnics, everything, which was of such importance 5 minutes ago, went up in the air with the flames from the Trade Unions Building and with ashes fell onto my sandals. Everything lost its value.
Horror and silence. How could that have happened? How?
A call from my classmate, Maya: the fire brigade is not allowed to get to the place... What? Maya is saying she can't solve the puzzle. Suddenly I realize that it would never be solved. It is all over.
What was happening in Belgrade? Yes, I remember my indignation then, but when it is literally on your doorstep, when the people are being burnt on the very same place, where 24 hours ago you were standing yourself with your children...
The local channel stops working. I switch on the internet. We are watching and drinking, crying and smoking... Crying...
3 May 2014
I woke up in the same flowery dress I was wearing yesterday. Maya called. Her brother-in-law died last night in the Trade Unions Building.
I spent all morning on the internet. Kids had to be taken somewhere. On the way to the park we popped into the supermarket. Silence. Customers did not seem to be speaking: I could only hear the sound of the check-out machines. My town had been raped. I did not have to watch TV or read thousands of reports: YouTube videos are sufficient enough to see the obvious.
The park is empty.
I am numb.
4 May 2014
I woke up in a long black dress.
We went to the 411 Battery Park again.
Maya told me that there were tents in the park, but I could not see any signs of those. There was no information about them.
Some cretin wrote "Glory to Ukraine". Sickening.
It was raining. I was crying. A silent magpie was jumping next to the pushchair. My husband was trying to find another magpie as it is believed that a lonely magpie brings sorrow. Well, there was no sign of more birds.
A Neo- nazi parade took place in Odessa in the evening. A friend of mine wrote to me on "odnoklassniki". "You know they shout out and it reminds me in part of the Germans from 1929 and almost all Germans from 1933. When infants in charge shout out with them, even I, not a cowardly one, become frightened... Just an hour ago a crowd went from Pushkinskaya to Kulikovo Pole. They look pretty much like a Remo unit. You must know how they ended up. Life puts everything back into its place. Punishment never comes consciously, it simply comes..." I liked this short message. So many friends of mine are not saying anything. Are they shocked? Are they scared? They are indifferent. The worst of all is not to take sides. I was gasping for air as tears from unbelievable injustice did not allow me to breathe properly.
5 May 2014
I had 3 lessons in the morning. I do not know how I made it to work. I could not concentrate. I felt like picking up the laptop and throwing it at the students. How dare they have come for classes when such a nightmare had happened. I was looking at their faces: they all had puffy eyes. Vlad, a boy with a blue and yellow ribbon on his wrist, could hardly hold back tears. His university mate Vadim died that night. Vadim was on the other side... 17 year old Vadim wore a Saint George's ribbon, when he was still alive. I looked at my ribbon. It had lost its meaning, while my student's yellow and blue one seemed to be covered in drops of blood. Vlad is a very genuine boy.
2 p.m. I am in Kulikove Pole. Lilac and carnations. I must be dreaming. It can't be reality. This is someone's bad joke. Yes, I will wake up soon and everything will be as before. I entered the building. It smelled of nothing but eternity. There were more cameras than mourners. I went upstairs. I thought I was walking on dead bodies. An elderly lady came up to me and asked me to take off my ribbon. I did as I was told.
6 May 2014
I cannot remember anything, the awareness of the tragedy started to kick in.
7 May 2014
For the first time in 5 days I woke up in a sort of right state of mind. I even did the lesson alright. I even went to the gym. After classes Andrew said the limit had not come yet. I did not know what he meant. I smoked and cried all evening and went to bed after 3 a.m.
8 May 2014
I didn"t quite make it to the lesson, so my husband did the lesson instead. I remember running to school with Sasha all the way through. Why were we running? I wanted to run as far as I could possibly go. I saw the eyes of the dead in front of me. It did not really matter whether I knew them or not. Dignity? Values? I will never forgive those so-called Ukrainian patriots. How can I forget the woman standing on the window sill still trying to pull her skirt down: she still had enough dignity... I do not need my flowery dresses any longer. My individual student Nikita was crying during the lesson. Are they going to come and kill us tomorrow? Who cares? In order to become a human you have to go through tragedy.
9 May 2014
We were told to avoid all public gatherings. For the first time in my life I did not go for the Victory Day Commemoration. Yesterday I did not have any fear. Today I do not have enough guts. It is quiet in Odessa, very quiet.
We were drinking and crying, swearing and crying. We were swearing because there were no human words to express inhumane emotions. Not many people called me. That was good as all the words would seem cynical and meaningless. No one came to help us. They came to Crimea, but Odessa? What about Odessa? When is Rakhmaninov's symphony going to break out? Where is this Russian God? There is not such a thing as a Russian God. It is a myth. It is my dream. 10 May 2014
We went to a restaurant with a so-called friend. Apparently he was shocked with the way I express my emotions on Facebook. He did not feel sorry for the people who died in the Trade Unions Building. He was afraid the Russians would come and he would lose his job in a local bank. I jokingly promised to have a word with the Russians so he would not lose his job.
11 May 2014
I woke up in a black dress. You know you wake up and your head is stuffed with cotton wool and something in your soul is bubbling. Some human dirt must be bubbling.
I was planting some garden stuff in front of the school. Gurvits said how wonderful it was to have got rid of such a scummy place like the tent town in Kulikovo Pole. I was speechless.
We went to feed the kids. They are happily eating. I am not eating. Do they understand or not? My husband and I are still talking about those moral freaks. The whole world... There are so many freaks. They are so blindly naпve and cowardly. I am a coward too. I did not go to the Victory Day Parade. Well, it never occurred in 2014. They scared us so I did not have enough courage to put some flowers to the unknown Sailor Monument. We have been putting up with this moral degradation, this unspeakable Russophobia in order for them to scare me.
12 May 2014
I woke up in a mess again. I am probably losing my dignity. The lessons went all right. I did not even cry. I felt sorry for the Ukrainian patriots. I genuinely felt sorry for them: so typical of a Russian heart to forgive. I felt sorry for those idiots who think they love their country. But how can one love a sick prostitute and a murderer?
Everything lost its meaning. The meaning must be in mercy then...
13 May 2014
A new wave of my indignation and fury. How painful, how painful it is...
14 May 2014
I was wearing a nice dress and had a rather good lesson. I also paid the bills for 3 months. Andrew agreed that our older brother does not need Odessa. What about us? Why did the brother forget about us? Did we deserve that? Yes, I suppose, we did.
15 May 2014
I woke up as a person who still had some remnants of dignity left. I will never be able to wear my flowery dresses with the same easiness as before.
It has been raining in Odessa every single day since the 2nd of May. Good. If it had been sunny it would have been cruel and insulting.