mbfitzmahan. Shauna 1997. Photo negative.
July 2022 - After 5 months of War, it feels like you’ve had enough. Check the front page of the newspaper, Ukrainian news that in March had its own section at the top of the page, has been relegated to a single article at the bottom. Inflation, pandemic, war, Democrats v. Republicans, assassination, shootings… it is too much. Ack!
And, I wish I could tell you that the Ukrainians are going to defeat Russia in the next few days or months. I cannot. But, let’s give the Ukrainians more time to act as our agents, to fight the war for us. Ukraine is worth fighting for. And the Ukrainians are fighting harder than ever to save their homeland. And, it is a home worth saving - it is a culture that enriches all of us worldwide. And, don’t forget that we are fighting a dictator that has his eyes on more than just Ukraine; he smacks his lips looking beyond.
1997 Lutsk.
Without movie theaters, a TV or a computer - an evening of making music was the most entertaining part of our week. A troop of students appeared at our door holding gifts of food - baked chicken, Ukrainian bread, and pickles made by grandmother. We didn’t have much room so we gathered in the largest bedroom. A smattering of American music joined our playlist, but most of the music came from Ukrainian and Russian hits. Shauna, having brought her Lyle guitar all the way from Vashon to Lutsk, played Counting Crows’ “Raining in Baltimore” and Lyle Lovett’s “She’s No Lady.” Max took the guitar and all eyes turned to the singer, completely attentive as if he were the most cherished soloist at the concert hall. There was little talking, it was all about music. One evening, a voice cried out, “Tanya, recite Pushkin!” Cheers rose up from the party, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Tanya shyly looking at her admirers, stood up and began a recitation in Russian. Suddenly, she stopped and looked at me, “Maureen, would you like me to translate?” “No, just continue in Russian.” Tanya recited Pushkin for 30 minutes.
Shauna learned a few Ukrainian songs to play on her guitar. I still ask her to play Vona. “Oh, Mom, I don’t know if I remember it… OK. Let me think...” And, then our memories of Ukraine - of our friends - come strumming out of that old guitar. Out come memories of being stuck together on the Ukrainian-Polish border where Shauna serenaded tired travelers.
Listen to a version of Vona below.
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The lyrics of “A Vona” by Plach Yeremiji seem to apply to feelings of wartime Ukraine.
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not today for sure tomorrow
friends will share the joy and sorrow
that's the time to drink some wine and chill
some will bring white-petaled asters
life is more than charms to master
yes the life is beautiful and real
and she will
and she will
be sitting sad and still
won’t get drunk
from cheap wine drinking
making sense of what is real
I will sing for her and crystals
shall vibrate not knowing how
with my voice in silent distance
overcome this sadness now
so it happened God knows where
I love her free flowing hair
I love her thin lips and know them well
soon enough the leaves will fall and
we’ll disperse while cities calling
with the voice so Russified like hell
so she will
so she will
be sitting sad and still
won’t get drunk
from cheap wine drinking
making sense of what is real
oh my little girl with sad eyes
oh my golden fate and rest
I continue with my screaming
for the night is bare and vast