Вікторія Гончаренко Viktoriya Honcharenko

— And I remember when already at night, the sounds — the sounds, the explosions, it was really scary. And my girlfriend calls me at two o'clock in the morning and says, "Vita," she says, "it's liberated, this Girkin gang has left Slovyansk. They're gone." I thought, "Wow, how so?". And they stayed in Kramatorsk for 24 hours. The whole square was filled with these idiots. Everything was black. Then, in at around 8 o'clock in the morning, they left. The square was littered with garbage. It was then quickly cleaned up. And they went towards Donetsk. I'm waiting for them to be fucking welcomed, so to say, by the miners in Donetsk. As if. I'm still waiting. And then we got together with our friends. The next day, we walked around the city. The city was empty. There was one store open in the old town. That is, the stores that were for Ukraine were open. All the others were closed. We walked to Bernatskyi Park. They forgot there, well, not a tank, but a... Well, I don't know what this military vehicle is called. — An APC. — Oh! There were even some shells in there. We looked at this one, took pictures. at all that, took photos. I even have pictures of it. Then we went through Novy Svit [neighborhood] on foot there. The city was devoid of life. <...> My phone was bursting. Half of [the people] wasn't thinking straight. I mostly got calls like, "Vita, are they grabbing people? Are the Banderas grabbing people on the streets?". I said, "Cut it out! Cut it out! I've been having talks with you for so long. Who's supposed to be grabbing anyone?" We went to the executive committee [of the city council]. Our flag was already hoisted there. That's what we saw on our way. And there was no [public transport] going. And we see that some stores have opened and put up flags. <...> We all hugged each other. Someone came out. One with a dog came out. I still know her. The dog had these ribbons on its leash. She just had tears in her eyes. And we walked through the city and went to the side — to the city exit, where these houses were that a shell hit. — In Stankostroy? — Yes, in the Stankostroy [neighborhood]. These are the houses, they've already been repaired. And that's where our guys [soldiers] were standing. They were all black and grimy. We gave them candy and talked to them. They are all from there, one from Vinnytsia, mostly from Zakarpattia. And we asked them, "Hey, guys, what made you come to us to the Donbas?". And he says, "Why would I need... They will come to me. They will come to me." I mean, he was smart enough. And we spent, maybe, half an hour there, hanging around. And within half an hour, 10 cars stopped. And they have a tank, a flag, about five people there. They were just standing there, not touching anyone, just standing there. 10 cars stopped, people came out silently, some with two bags, some with a bag, silently, they put food, cigarettes, that kind of stuff. Some of them hugged these guys, some of them just silently went, "This is for you. This is for you. This is for you." And they silently left. I myself say that the city is vatnyi [pro-Russian], there are a lot of people waiting [for Russia]. But there are also people like that.

Then there was the referendum. Such crowds were running down the street. I remember, I was at work. They were triumphant. They all ran in, they all cheered, "We will have Russia. We hate this Ukraine." And they all ran to Bykov's House of Culture for the referendum. I'm walking, I used to live in Ivanivka [Kramatorsk's microdistrict]. I'm walking. The whole of Ivanivka is buzzing, too. "We'll have Russia." There's a referendum there, too. Whoever I try to talk to, no one hears me. Everyone is yelling, "To hell with this Ukraine. We'll have Russia. Ukraine is fascists." Then, some familiar priests from Moscow churches show up. I sort of know them generally. They also start saying, "The Ukrainian language is from Satan. This is all Ukraine, it must disappear." It was scary. Then, my acquaintance, a historian, a history teacher. I've been talking to him for years. He visits me at work. I once had a store, like a club. Everyone passing by used to come in. And he said, "Vita, why do you need this Ukraine? It will disintegrate. We are Russia. Over there [the West of Ukraine will be ceded] to Hungary. And anyway, you don't know. They have already put a Catholic cross in Slovyansk. They promise to take away our faith from us, they said." I say, "Are you crazy or what?". And I watched it all as if it were some kind of fiction movie. I thought, well, this can't be happening at all. But nevertheless. And after [20]14, I always awaited the sequel. Everyone was saying, "Vita, that's not going to happen. Vita, it's not going to happen. Сome on."

It was for more than a week, if not more, I don't remember, the streets were blocked. I lived near the railway station and used to work at the Southern Railway Station, which is practically all the way across Donetsk. But we had to make a detour and walk half of the way because the miners were standing, I think, where the circus was. That's where I saw them. They were all black, banging their helmets on the asphalt. It was scary. They wouldn't let anyone through. The trolley buses didn't run. Maybe they let someone through for some time. I remember that my acquaintance said, "Vita, my wife was giving birth, I... I begged on my knees to let us pass". They let him through. I mean, that's where I remember. And somewhere else, they were blocking the road. There were a lot of them. They were all black, they were all black here. And they were banging [their helmets on the asphalt], the noise was unbelievable.

— It was a kind of wind of freedom. It was so exhilarating. On the other hand, there was such confusion among the other category of people. I mean one half felt like, “This is it, so many opportunities.” Well, again. We discovered photography: you're welcome to practice. And some people were aching for this Soviet Union. They didn't understand what was happening. For one thing, pop music emerged, all kinds of music. Secondly, all kinds of literature started being published. Take it all. It was a huge upswing. All kinds of programs. Nevzorov, Okna, I think there was a program like that. God, how we watched it all. <...> Some cried, it was a time of change. — Were there people among your acquaintances who were crying, or were they older people? — They were older people, and we didn't pay much attention to them at all. They are crying there — what are you crying for? Well, it's just like today, they're crying for some kind of stability. What kind of stability? All my childhood was spent in queues, stability, standing half a day [in a queue] for this French lipstick while holding a can. What kind of stability?

— You couldn't not go to the parade. You had to write a request with some very serious reasons to be excused from going to the parade. It could have been either childbirth, death, or hospitalization, or someone leaving for somewhere. But you had to either bring a bottle to your boss to get him to let you go. Because then the school would look into why the person didn't show up for that parade. — How did they track you? Maybe you just got lost in the crowd? — Well, how did they track you? There was a special person to keep track of who showed up, but mostly, it was already done at school. It seems that parents if someone was leaving somewhere, they somehow managed to provide an excuse for them at school. But when I studied at the vocational school, it was very strict there, after a parade was held, "Ah, Ivanov was absent". At a Komsomol meeting, "Where were you?". A person would stand up and say, "Well, a relative came to see me. And I got sick," this and that. <...> They did not go as far as expulsion, but it meant a serious reprimand. — On what holidays were these parades held? — May 1st and November 7th. Those were the two sacred holidays. <...> Importantly, there's another aspect to it. We all gathered near the vocational school. Everyone was given a banner to carry. Some bureau member on a stick. That's how it was. The key was to get somewhere before they gave you the stick. But everyone was given a stick. There was enough for everyone. I wonder how many of those bureau members there were that there was enough for everybody. Or flags, flags. I mean, we had to. And we also marched in a column somewhere along [Shkadinova], now Akademichna, to get into the rear there. When the Enkaemzovtsy [workers of the Novokramatorsk Machine-Building Plant] had already passed by, we joined the rear [of the column] and marched on. The grandstand is parallel to DK NKMZ [House of Culture of the Novokramatorsk Machine-Building Plant]. And we would march, they would be [shouting], "For the Soviet students of the voc[ational school] such and such, Hurrah!". We were supposed to shout, "Hurrah!". We shouted, "Hurrah!" and walked along. And this is the most important moment. You had to find someone gawky and say, "Oh, Kolya, please hold my flag, please hold it. I'll be right there, I'll be right there, hold it." But all the Kolyas were also on guard. But could still find some, and as soon as he took that stick, we were gone. And everyone else would see that [and say], "Well, Kolya, you're going to the vocational school anyway". And everyone was leaning all these flags on this Kolya. And that's it, Kolya is already holding his own, someone else's, and has more leaned on him. We are already gone.