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I insisted on going back to Kiev, but according to existing procedures, we had taken advantage of obtaining one permission to relocate and now we could only go back to Nizhniy Tagil. There was a train via Kharkov to get there. Then at the family council we decided that I would get off there and then try to get to Kiev. So I did, the thin 17-year old girl that I was. I still wonder how my mother let me go alone, but I didn’t have negative thoughts. From Kharkov I took a local train to Kiev. In this train I met young officers. They were taking some supplies to the military hospital in Kiev. We decided to stick together. They were kind and friendly. We changed trains before we arrived at Darnitsa (editor’s note: Darnitsa was a railway station on the left bank of the Dnieper in the outskirts of Kiev, now it is a district in Kiev). We said ‘farewells’ there and I took another local train to get to the railway station in Kiev. I arrived at 7 am and went across the town. I didn’t recognize my hometown, its ruined streets. I had a suitcase with me and went to Kreschatik [Kreschatik is the main street of Kiev], to go to Podol from there where aunt Sonia lived. I walked for a while, but couldn’t find Kreschatik. Then, when I started going up the street, I realized that I passed Kreschatik and didn’t recognize it, so much ruined it was. I turned back and then descended to the Podol.
My relatives gave me warm reception. They lied in their apartment in Igorevskaya Street, but they only managed to get one room back after they returned from the evacuation. They gave me a folding bed to sleep on, I slept in the corridor. Next day I began to think of an educational institution to enter. My dream of becoming an actress strayed in my prewar pink childhood. I knew I had to get a profession and earn my living. I entered a Construction technical School, finished it and went to work.
A year later my acquaintances helped me to obtain a permit for my mother and aunt Olga, though they were only allowed to stay in Borispol near Kiev. In 1946 mama and Roman, aunt Olga and Sopha and Zhanna arrived in Kiev. Uncle Grigoriy, who joined them in Azerbaijan after she was released from his hospital, also arrived with them. On the way home my mother’s suitcase with her documents about her and the children’s pensions, my father’s last letter and her best clothes was stolen. Fortunately, the thieves returned the documents concerning my father’s history and my mother managed to obtain a pension for us. We all lived in the Podol. Aunt Olga soon returned to her apartment and Grigoriy’ wife and their two children returned from the evacuation. My mother, Roman and I slept in aunt Sonia’s corridor till 1951. These were hard years. There was famine in 1946-47, as hard as the one in 1932-33. We were provided pies with pluck filling at school. I sold them to buy some food for my brother.
My relatives gave me warm reception. They lied in their apartment in Igorevskaya Street, but they only managed to get one room back after they returned from the evacuation. They gave me a folding bed to sleep on, I slept in the corridor. Next day I began to think of an educational institution to enter. My dream of becoming an actress strayed in my prewar pink childhood. I knew I had to get a profession and earn my living. I entered a Construction technical School, finished it and went to work.
A year later my acquaintances helped me to obtain a permit for my mother and aunt Olga, though they were only allowed to stay in Borispol near Kiev. In 1946 mama and Roman, aunt Olga and Sopha and Zhanna arrived in Kiev. Uncle Grigoriy, who joined them in Azerbaijan after she was released from his hospital, also arrived with them. On the way home my mother’s suitcase with her documents about her and the children’s pensions, my father’s last letter and her best clothes was stolen. Fortunately, the thieves returned the documents concerning my father’s history and my mother managed to obtain a pension for us. We all lived in the Podol. Aunt Olga soon returned to her apartment and Grigoriy’ wife and their two children returned from the evacuation. My mother, Roman and I slept in aunt Sonia’s corridor till 1951. These were hard years. There was famine in 1946-47, as hard as the one in 1932-33. We were provided pies with pluck filling at school. I sold them to buy some food for my brother.
Location
Ukraine
Interview
Isabella Karanchuk