Hryts on Symposia

By Walter Kish

I was having one of my semi-regular conversations yesterday with my loquacious cousin Hryts, otherwise, known as the Sage of Pidkamin, a little selo or village a bulava’s throw south of Brody in Western Ukraine. I use the term conversation loosely, since such communication tends to be rather one-sided, Hryts being blessed with a gift for gab that would humble even Khrushchev’s famous shoe thumping performance at the UN.

“So my fine Canadian smarkach, what have you been up to of late?” he began, speaking a little too loudly in the latest model Nokia cell phone that I had presented to him on my last visit. Hryts had been only too well conditioned by the deficiencies of Soviet technology to appreciate the sensitivity and capability of modern Western electronics, and a significant increase in volume was his usual strategy when using any technology communications device.

“Well,” I replied, “I recently attended a symposium at the University of Toronto on contemporary Ukrainian politics, history and culture.”

“SYM – PO – SI – UM” he repeated slowly and uncertainly.  “What exactly is a SYM – PO – SI – UM?”

I guess I should have known better, but I rose to the occasion and explained. “A symposium is when a bunch of experts get together to exchange ideas and information on current issues of interest.”

“Aha!” he exclaimed. “So it’s just like when Yevdokia gets together with her babstvo friends in the kitchen to trade stories and opinions on what’s happening in the selo!” Then, I heard him turn and apparently shout out to his wife – “Hey Yevko, did you know your tongue flapping with the neighbours every evening is called a SYM – PO – SI – UM?” followed by a loud guffaw.

In the background, I heard Yevdokia yell back – “I’ll tell you where you can put your ‘sim – fer – o – siums’!  Do something useful and go feed the chickens.”

Still chuckling, Hryts continued. “So what did they talk about at this SYM – PO – SI – UM?”

Digging myself in still deeper, I replied that, “The discussions were essentially a post-modern analysis of post-Soviet Ukraine.”

“Post-modern!” he exclaimed somewhat derisively. “What nonsense are you talking about? Here in Pidkamin, we haven’t even gotten out of the pre-modern, never mind enjoying the benefits of the modern. You were here not that long ago. You tell me – is my outhouse behind the barn post-modern?  Are the potholes in front of my house that could swallow a cow, post-modern? Post-modern…post-Soviet…Ha! The only posts we worry about here are the ones that hold up the fence!”

“I can appreciate all that Hrytsiu” I tried to continue, “But you’ve got to look at the big picture. These scholars and experts were engaged in a critical discursive analysis of the various current trends in Ukrainian politics and society, examining the policies of social exclusion, the causes of political pluralism, the effect of Europeanization on the formulation of policy….”

At this point, my attempt at clarification was interrupted by the jarring sounds created by Hryts forcefully blowing his nose.

As I tried to regain my composure, Hryts broke in again – “Ech – your Baba would turn over in her grave. You should hear yourself talk – such an intellectual!” he intoned disdainfully.

“You know,” he continued, the smartest Ukrainian to ever live was Hryhoriy Skovoroda back in the 1700’s. He was a philosopher of the first order. He understood life and could explain it in words that even Yevdokia could understand. You should try to do the same.”

And that was that. As usual, Hryts had the last word – just like a true Ukrainian!