Every day, I have some interaction with someone who is labeled a “babusia” here. They are the older members of society—the people who lived for years under the Soviet Union, worked hard to support their families and have witnessed more than one revolution in their society.
Now, these women have traded their fashionable clothes for a head scarf and sell just about anything. I know where to buy milk, soap, cosmetics, clothes, vegetables or flowers right on the street from an old woman.
Sometimes they are nice. Sometimes they can get a bit aggressive. I’ll never forget the babusia who shouted at me for five minutes to buy her potatoes as I bought dried fruit or the woman who got angry at me because I refused to buy a moldy banana. There are the helpful ones too though. The babusias selling cheese at the bazaar will let you taste anything before you buy it and the old women who cram as much dried fruit as they can into their little containers come to mind.
What they all have in common, in my opinion, is that they seem to have the air of a building or city that was once great and is now forgotten. I imagine them at dinner parties or dancing, twirling around with the love of their life, thin and beautiful. I can see them walking in the park, sledding in the winter, chasing children and enjoying life. It’s not to say that their families have abandoned them. They probably work so hard to take care of themselves, their children and their grandchildren, but they seem to have lost what they used to be. The mother of one of my friends is an amazingly kind woman who sells socks at the bazaar. She used to be a nurse, but she is now deemed, at probably not even 60, too old to work.
I don’t honestly know how these women see themselves in society, but I wish I could ask them about their past life. I want to know about life here 20 or 30 years ago. Unfortunately, even in my Ukrainian speaking town, older generations speak almost completely Russian.
However, I got a chance to peek into their former lives about a week ago. Ukraine celebrated Victory Day to commemorate the defeat of the Germans in World War II. There were fireworks, a parade, booths set up in the main square and plenty of concerts and performances. Individuals left hundreds of single flowers at the monument commemorating the war. What struck me most was how the babusias and the deduces (grandfathers) transformed. Both men and women wore metals on their jacket, mostly from the Soviet Union times. They were all dressed up and smiling. They danced romantically to music from an accordion and they looked so happy. Everyone was walking tall and looking very proud. They remembered what their lives were like years ago and they changed back into young, smiling kids who lived life and fought for what they believed in.
For one day, Ukraine paused to honor the older members of society. They loved it, and so did I.
Posted on June 3, 2010
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