Going Back
By Volodymyr Kish
I am writing this as I prepare for a
sentimental little journey to rediscover my youth. Back more years than I want to remember, I
was born in the remote mining town of Rouyn-Noranda in the wilderness of
Northern Quebec. It was there that I spent the first twelve years of my life
and where I believe much of what I am today first took form – my essential
personality, my values, my core beliefs, my strengths, my weaknesses, my
feelings towards my Ukrainian origins, and much more.
There
is a well-known Jesuit saying – “Give me a child for his first seven years and I’ll give you the man.”
I would tend to agree. What happens to us during those formative
years moulds much of how we will behave in our adulthood. The problem is that few of us, including
myself, are able to remember much of what happened back then. Despite that, when I honestly examine what
are the key aspects of my character and how I view the world, I inevitably find
that my experiences in childhood have indeed cast a long shadow.
I have been thinking more and more in recent
years about those years spent in Rouyn-Noranda.
Part of the reason is that I have some ambition to write a history of
the significant Ukrainian community in that town that emerged in the wake of
the large wave of Ukrainian immigrants to Canada following World War II. Secondly, my kids have for a long time been
urging me to write an autobiography. A
visit to my original home town would, I hope, reawaken some dormant memories.
Another reason is that in the neighbouring mining
town of Val d’Or, Monsignor Lev Chayka, the resident Ukrainian Catholic priest
for North Western Quebec and North Eastern Ontario, is still going strong,
despite the fact that he must be pushing ninety. I would dearly love to tap
into his memory banks and archives, as he has been the central figure for much
of what happened in the Ukrainian community in that part of country for nigh on
sixty years.
Sadly, there are few Ukrainians left up there in
the “North Country”. I suspect that
there may not be more than a half a dozen or so left in Rouyn-Noranda, or Val
d’Or, or Kirkland Lake, Virginiatown, Timmins, Kapuskasing, or any other of the
dozens of northern mining towns that during the fifties and sixties boasted of
thriving Ukrainian communities. Their stories
are worth telling and I hope to be able someday to do just that. This visit is but a small step towards
achieving that goal.
I have no delusions that I will find much that
has remained unchanged since I left some fifty years ago. I last visited the area some ten years ago
and it was obvious then that progress had left its mark. I can still recall that when I was a kid, the
milk would be delivered to our door by horse drawn wagon. In contrast,
Rouyn-Noranda now boasts of a Walmart.
Time and tide move on and care little for
nostalgia. What I seek is more in the line of a virtual and emotional
connection to a key period in my life, one that I hope will spur the revival of
dormant memories.
I hope also that Monsignor Chayka will be able
to clarify and elaborate on the activities and dynamics of the Ukrainian
community of that time. As a child, I understood little of the political,
generational and immigrant wave conflicts that were a very real part of
everyday life then. Now that my
knowledge of Ukrainian history and politics is a little more developed, I hope
to be able to make a little more sense of some of those disjointed and
confusing recollections I have of Ukrainian life in Rouyn-Noranda in that era.
Tomorrow, I set off on this personal little pilgrimage
of mine. Though I may not be entirely sure of what I am looking for, I hope I
find what I am seeking.