Of
Kvas and Saints
By Walter Kish
With the last few weeks of summer
approaching, Kyivites are making the most of the hot sunny weather while their
cousins in Western Ukraine
are suffering from a surplus of unwanted rain. Out on the countless dachas in
the peripheral towns and village, the potatoes are beginning to be harvested
and the garlic pulled, braided and hung out to dry.
Though the city appears
to be as crowded with people as ever, a large proportion of Kyiv’s residents
have left for their annual pilgrimage to either a sanatorium on the Crimean
coast or in the Carpathian Mountains,
or gone to spend a few weeks at their ancestral family village in the country.
Correspondingly, Kyiv is brimming with an influx of tourists, mostly diasporan
Ukrainians, but also no small number of village denizens curious to partake of
some of this capital city’s sights and sins.
The kvas vendors, with
their distinctive large, insulated yellow vats on wheels, found on most major
street corners are doing a thriving business. Although beer has overwhelmingly
become the thirst-quencher of choice for parched Ukrainians, kvas is still
holding its own and is my own personal favourite on a sweltering day. Kvas has
been made in Ukraine
since time immemorial. It is a simple concoction made by fermenting leftover rye
or any dark bread in water with the addition of some sugar and yeast. The
result is a mildly alcoholic drink that when served cold is the ideal
countermeasure to the summer sun and heat.
Another telltale sign of
the season is the brisk traffic at Mykhailivska
Square next to our apartment
building. Most of Kyiv’s newlyweds come to take pictures there in front of St.
Michael’s magnificent and photogenic golden domes and to lay wreaths at the
foot of St. Olga’s statue. On any given Saturday in July and August, the square
becomes nearly impassable as dozens of wedding parties, their stretch limos
gleaming in the sun, converge on the square from every direction. As camera
shutters click and champagne corks are popped, the stone faces of St. Olga and
her nearby companions, the apostle Andrew and the missionaries Cyril and
Methodius, look on, undoubtedly, with some bemusement.
I have often wondered
about the predilection of the Slavic cultures to make saints of their former
rulers, despite their often dubious and less-than-saintly practices. It is
curious, for instance, how the Russian Orthodox Church can justify making
saints not only of Tsar Nicholas II, but his whole family. Undoubtedly, their
assassination by the Bolsheviks was regrettable, but surely being the victim of
political murder cannot in itself justify canonization. Not to mention, of
course, that Nicholas had more than a little political oppression, torture and
executions on his conscience to account for.
As Ukrainians, we have
our own questionable examples. Volodymyr the Great, canonized for his
“Christianization” of Kyivan Rus, had a few skeletons in his closet. One should
not forget that he came to power by treacherously murdering his own brother,
and that the baptism of Ukraine
was not a voluntary but a calculated coercive political act. In the process
many reluctant “pagans” lost their heads rather than their beliefs. His
grandmother, St. Olga, prior to her conversion to Christianity, was renowned
primarily for the brutality of the revenge she inflicted on the Derevliany who
had murdered her husband Ihor. She had them slaughtered by the thousands and
burned their capital to the ground.
In those days, Church and
State were tightly linked partners in one power structure, and their actions
were often based on pragmatic rather than spiritual considerations. In any
case, I have always felt that as humans, with all the limitations that flesh is
heir to, we should leave it up to God to decide who is a “saint,” and shy away
from that responsibility.
However, I am digressing
into politics and religion, and fine summer days are too precious to devote to
such things. Ukraine
has had too much politics over the past six months and needs a break from the
shenanigans of its current leaders. For
a few more weeks, I will try and forget about coalitions, Yanukovych, the end
of the Orange Revolution, and how long the current government will last. I
think it’s time to go find a nice, cold glass of kvas!