I'm pleased to share that, after a year of filming, the editing process for Beyond Bucha is now well underway.

We’ve already developed a preliminary trailer and several edited reels from our recent production tour and last year’s holiday shoots. After my recent five-week trip to Ukraine, we now have enough footage for two films!

During my visit, I captured the resilience of Ukraine’s cities, including Kharkiv, Dnipro, Zaporizhzhia, Odesa, and others. Contrary to perceptions of widespread destruction, our footage showcases vibrant cities with lovely hotels, bustling malls, clean streets, and reliable trains—all amidst ongoing sirens and the occasional explosion. The unshakable confidence and resilience of Ukrainians shine through.

We’ve adjusted our timeline and plan to release a series of short films starting in February 2025. These shorts will focus on topics such as:

• Religious freedom in Ukraine
• The evangelical movement, including women pastors
• The war’s impact on churches and congregations
• The Orthodox schism and government actions against Moscow-affiliated priests
• PTSD among soldiers, civilians, and children—and how churches are helping

Each 10–15 minute segment will include clergy interviews and footage from cities and churches visited. Five-minute versions will be tailored for social media to engage leaders and influencers in the USA.

The final feature film is scheduled for release in Spring/Summer 2025 and will combine these shorts into a comprehensive production with versions of 90, 60, 30, and 15 minutes.

Rewards Update
Thank you to our incredible supporters! Your rewards will soon be on their way.

Thanks to your generosity, we’ve raised 75% of our $42,738 budget. However, we need $10,000 to finalize post-production, with $5,000 urgently required for editing to keep us on schedule. Timely funding will ensure the film’s relevance and quality as pivotal decisions about Ukraine’s future unfold.

The 30mm brass angel candlesticks have finally arrived in the USA after a challenging journey from the skilled artisans at the Forge in Vinnytsia. These extraordinary pieces, crafted from spent 30mm anti-aircraft shell casings, will soon be shipped to our Angel-level contributors ($500). In addition, the small flags from Kyiv and Beyond Bucha posters will be sent out to contributors in the coming days.

Looking for a truly unique (and tax-deductible) Christmas gift for the Ukraine supporter in your life? These candlesticks are the perfect choice!

Your support enables us to create a high-quality film that highlights Ukraine’s resilience and religious freedom. Together, we can make an impact and share these vital stories with the world.

For more information and to join our cause click here.

I’m thrilled to share an early version of the Beyond Bucha trailer!

While we are targeting a late February release for this feature-length documentary, many updates will be made to the trailer between now and then. However, I wanted to give you a first look. And I am particularly interested in getting it out ASAP because I hope it will begin to do some good in helping put to rest the disinformation that Ukraine is persecuting Christians.

The film takes viewers on a five-week, 2,500-kilometer journey across eight cities throughout eastern and central Ukraine, including Kyiv, Kharkiv, Bucha, Irpin, Dnipro, Odesa, Vinnytsia, and Zaporizhzhia.

Each Sunday of the journey introduced us to a new church and pastor, encompassing a wide range of Evangelical traditions—Baptists, Pentecostals, Charismatics, and non-denominational. The film will also include remarkable interviews with several Orthodox priests representing different perspectives on the ongoing schism.

I’m also honored to feature Contra Spem Spero! (Against All Hope, I Hope!), a powerful piece inspired by the poetry of Lesia Ukrainka (1871–1913), set to music by composer and pianist Dina Pruzhansky, with contralto Vira Slywotzky’s exquisite vocals. In addition to their acclaimed international careers, these artists have tirelessly raised awareness and funds for Ukraine-related humanitarian relief efforts, including the Center for Civil Liberties, Odesa Peace Fund, Razom for Ukraine, and the Ukraine Music Initiative.

We’re also fortunate to feature Odesa’s award-winning Sunrise Ensemble performing Confession by Ukrainian composer Oksana Gerasimenko. Fresh from winning the International Autumn Leaves Festival, they also performed for the film outside Odesa’s historic Transfiguration Cathedral.

​Stay tuned for more updates—thank you for your continued support as we bring Beyond Bucha to life!

Last Sunday, I attended the 10:00 a.m. service at New Life Church in Kyiv, marking my final church visit before heading home.

​The experience felt like stepping into a Texas mega-church—complete with an outstanding worship band, professional cameras, a large screen, and a lively congregation filled with children and families. I captured a glimpse of it in the short video below.

What makes this service especially moving is that it can only happen in parts of Ukraine that remain free. In areas under Russian control, evangelical gatherings like these are prohibited, churches have been shuttered, and pastors imprisoned, tortured, even killed.

After the service, I had the privilege of interviewing Pastor Anton Kalyuzhny of New Life Church, a non-denominational congregation. His excellent English, shaped by a strong Ukrainian education, immediately stands out. As a multi-generational pastor, his ministry roots reach back to the Soviet era.

During the interview, I asked him the question I’ve posed to every clergy member I’ve met on this trip—whether they or their church have experienced any government persecution in Ukraine. Pastor Kalyuzhny responded that they had not and added that he feels churches in Ukraine may actually enjoy greater freedom than those in the U.S.; here, for instance, prayer is permitted in schools.

We also touched on the evolving schism within Ukraine’s Orthodox Church and government efforts to address "spy priests." Pastor Kalyuzhny shared valuable insights on the Moscow-linked Orthodox Church in Ukraine, seeing it as a remnant of the old Orthodox institution used by the Soviets for control, espionage, and propaganda. His full reflections will be featured in Beyond Bucha, which we aim to release by February 2025, on the anniversary of the full-scale invasion in 2022.

But on this Sunday, it simply felt like church. The worship band led with beautiful songs, and though I couldn’t understand the sermon’s words, the message was clear. The Spirit’s presence was unmistakable, and despite all this church has endured, its strength and resilience will undoubtedly carry it forward for generations, God willing.

On July 23, 2023, the world, including Christians across America, was shocked and horrified when a Russian missile attack severely damaged the Transfiguration Cathedral in Odesa, one of the most iconic landmarks of the Eastern Orthodox Church. Transfiguration Cathedral in Odesa - Wikipedia

This cathedral was a key reason for my visit to Odesa. I wanted to witness the rebuilding process, understand how the congregation had been affected, and, if possible, conduct an interview for our new film Beyond Bucha. Thankfully, I was able to achieve all three goals, while also gaining insight into the ongoing complexities within Ukraine’s Orthodox churches and their split from Russian Orthodoxy. Note that the interview will be in the finished film but not in the short video included here.

During my time in Ukraine, I’ve had the opportunity to interview many Orthodox priests. The most recent took place inside the Transfiguration Cathedral on Sunday, October 13th. The priest had just delivered a sermon in Russian to fewer than 100 people. It quickly became clear that both he and the church identified more with the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) than with the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU).

For someone like me, who speaks neither Ukrainian nor Russian, the liturgies are largely indistinguishable. However, for my translator Sasha and his mother, the differences were striking, especially during the interview. Sasha and his mother were disappointed with the priest’s perspective. Just a few days earlier, we had interviewed an OCU priest who has fully rejected any former Russian ties.

​The Russian-speaking priest at the cathedral explained that the church has been part of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC) since the 1990s, but the situation is more nuanced than it seems. Membership in the UOC does not equate to alignment with the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU); for instance, the UOC is comfortable displaying a portrait of Moscow’s Patriarch Kirill at the cathedral's entrance. For a deeper understanding of the history of the Orthodox Church in Ukraine, I suggest referencing this source: Orthodox Church of Ukraine – Britannica.

​I was pleased to find the cathedral open during my initial visit on October 11th. That day, I was treated to a beautiful flute recital by the Sunrise Ensemble of Odesa, performing "Confession" by Ukrainian composer Oksana Gerasimenko in front of the church. We recorded the recital and used it as a backdrop in the short video tour of the cathedral. Inside, the reconstruction is ongoing, with debris still piled up. However, the ceilings and domes have been covered, and there is hope the work will be completed in a few years. We were granted full access to the church, even exploring the crypt, and conducted our interview in the middle of the nave. All of which will be included in the final documentary.

So, how can one tell when they are in a Russian-leaning Orthodox Church in Ukraine? Several signs stood out:

1. Language: The liturgy and the interview were conducted in Russian, and the priest showed no hesitation about this. While there are many places in Ukraine where Russian is spoken, it’s not something one expects in a Ukrainian Orthodox Church. The priest downplayed the significance of language, saying it didn’t matter what language the liturgy was conducted in.

2. Perceived Persecution: This was the first time a Ukrainian pastor or cleric I interviewed said there was persecution of Christians in Ukraine. Priests aligned with Moscow have faced charges of espionage, promoting Russian propaganda, inciting religious hatred, and justifying Russia's aggression. For a high-profile case, see Senior ROC priest hospitalized after court hearing / The New Voice of Ukraine. Despite these tensions, there was no sign of persecution at the service we attended. The church was open, services continued, and the priest was more than willing to speak with us. He seemed more embarrassed about his limited English than about speaking Russian.

3. Portrait of Kirill: The clearest sign of the church’s Russian alignment was a large portrait of Patriarch Kirill at the entrance. Kirill, a staunch supporter of Putin, has framed the war in Ukraine as a holy mission to "de-satanize" the country. Seeing his image prominently displayed was a shock, especially given his role in providing religious cover for Russia’s aggression.

​Unsurprisingly, attendance has declined at this Cathedral since the full-scale invasion in 2022. The schism within the Orthodox Church in Ukraine is ongoing, and the divisions run deep. While the rebuilding of the cathedral progresses, the spiritual and political fractures within the church are complex and evolving.

I first met Sasha this past summer at a charity polo match in Newport, where I was a guest of the Newport and Jamestown Ukraine Relief Projects.
They were representing Ukraine, and I was still trying to wrap my head around polo. I struck up a conversation with a Ukrainian woman who mentioned her 12-year-old son, saying his English was far better than hers and that I should meet him.
Later in the afternoon, I spotted Sasha with friends. They seemed so familiar with each other that I assumed he couldn't be the Ukrainian refugee I'd imagined. Little did I know how deeply rooted this young family was in Newport. I was blown away when Sasha started speaking—his English was flawless, without a trace of an accent. We soon launched into one of the most insightful conversations I’ve had about Ukraine including a detailed tutorial on the various missiles and drones Russia was using against his country.

Sasha was born in Sevastopol, Crimea. His whole family left Crimea in 2014. It turns out Sasha had spent his kindergarten year in Newport back in 2017, while his father attended the Naval War College at the invitation of the U.S. government. After the full-scale invasion in March 2022, mom and the kids left Ukraine for the USA. His dad’s friend Erik Brine took them in and they were in Jamestown, RI for 18 months. His dad stayed in Ukraine and has served in some of the toughest theaters of the war.

Sasha seems as American as any other seventh grader, excelling in school, playing the flute, and practicing Taekwondo three times a week. His older sister, Yana, is a medical student in Kyiv.  

This summer, however, Sasha wasn’t in Newport for school but to recover from a concussion caused by two Iskander ballistic missiles that hit near his home in Odesa. He still has trouble hearing in one ear. Odesa is too close to Crimea for much warning before missile strikes—unlike Kyiv, where sirens often result in false alarms, in Odesa, an explosion usually follows within minutes.

Fast forward to last week: I had told Sasha’s mother, Viktoriia, about my upcoming trip to Odesa for my next documentary, Beyond Bucha, and asked if Sasha could be my translator and guide. After exchanging a few emails, I made it to their beloved city. Unfortunately, just as I arrived, Russia had intensified its assault on Odesa, targeting grain shipments from the port.
Of all the Ukrainian cities I’ve visited, Odesa felt the hottest, and not because of the weather. On my first night, I heard an explosion just minutes after an air raid siren. The following night, another attack resulted in fatalities. It reminded me of the aftermath of mass shootings in U.S. cities—tragic, persistent, yet life goes on. The people here have become as accustomed to war as one can be. They refuse to be cowed by missiles and drones. It feels more like terrorism, given how many strikes hit civilian targets like the Transfiguration Cathedral.

Despite everything, Odesans love their city and won’t let the bombings disrupt their lives. This resilience is something I’ve seen all across Ukraine—people deeply love their hometowns, and for good reason.

On my first day in Odesa, Viktoriia welcomed me with five bottles of Ukrainian red wine, a bottle of cognac, cookies, candy, apples, and grapes. After nearly a week, I’m still working my way through it all! The generosity and hospitality have been overwhelming.

As a natural result I suppose the people here are also as used to the realities of this war as anyone. “Used to it” isn’t exactly the right term but life goes on. And they won’t be cowed by a terrorist with missiles and drones. And it really is more akin to terrorism in that so many of these projectiles miss and hit civilian targets like the Transfiguration Cathedral last year. It’s not like Odesa is in artillery range so you really have to go looking to find something blown up. This beautiful city–like Kyiv, Bucha, Kharkiv, Dnipro, and Zaporizhzhia before them on my itinerary-- is intact. And for the most part the “booms” are distant, as the apps on Sasha phone made clear. So, the bombings are more akin to terrorism not a great military, who are intent on making life as miserable as possible.

Sasha and his family showed me the beauty of Odesa, including a visit to the famous Transfiguration Cathedral, which was struck by a Russian missile in 2023. You’ll catch glimpses of it in the attached video, with more to come in my film. Life continues here, even as sirens wail in the background. I also visited Sasha’s school, where we were treated to lunch by the headmistress. But the highlight for me was attending a ballet performance at the Odesa Opera House, one of Europe’s great treasures, where we watched a stunning Ukrainian ballet set to Chopin.

​Of all the moments in Odesa, the one that stands out most was a walk along the Black Sea with Sasha’s family and their dog. I even took off my shoes to step into the water on the stony beach. As the day ended, Sasha had to head home to study, and I paid him a small sum for his incredible work as a guide, translator, and cameraman—he shot almost all the footage for this segment. Despite his mother’s objections, I insisted he accept the money, and he ended up buying four physics books with it!
I’m excited to return to Odesa after Beyond Bucha is completed to share the film with them. I owe Sasha and his family a great deal for their help with the Odesa segment, and I hope they’ll love the final result. I’m certainly looking forward to going back.

Pastor Sergey Gashchenko, Bishop of the Union of Churches - Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine - October 6th, 2024

In early 2023, I filmed a segment for Back to Bucha featuring Pastor Oleg Regetsiy of the Church of the Glory of the Lord in Lviv.
At that time, he was conducting an online service with his displaced congregation, many of whom had fled Kharkiv after Russian forces were repelled in the early days of the war. While Oleg and his family have since returned to Kharkiv, most of his congregation has not.

In the video below, we see a Wednesday evening Bible study around a dinner table, attended by Oleg’s family and a few parishioners. At this particular service they were trying to translate everything into English for my benefit though generally would speak Russian given we were in the Kharkiv region which is largely Russian speaking. They read and discuss scripture, followed by prayers from everyone present. It was an intimate gathering, largely made up of women. Oleg’s wife, Iryna, plays a prominent role in the ministry, a female co-pastor, making their work a true partnership. This setting reminded me of the early days of the Christian church, when services were held in homes, often led by women, bringing to mind Matthew 18:20: "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them."

Kharkiv was relatively calm when I visited a few weeks ago, but it remains a prime objective for Russian forces. Earlier this year, they launched a renewed offensive, but were repelled, in part due to U.S.-supplied HIMARS, which President Biden allowed to strike into Russia. Kharkiv is only about 25 miles from the Russian border, making it a critical flashpoint in the conflict.

Bible study around a dinner table, attended by Pastor Oleg Regetsiy, his family and parishioners, Kharkiv, Ukraine - September 25th, 2024

​After Kharkiv, I traveled south to Zaporizhzhia via Dnipro to meet with Bishop Sergey Gashchenko, leader of the Union of Churches to which Oleg’s ministry belongs. I also attended a service at the Source of Life Church where Bishop Gashchenko preached last Sunday, a glimpse of which you can see in the video below.

This denomination, as explained to me, is Pentecostal with a Charismatic element. The Charismatic aspect apparently allows for women pastors, and I met a young female pastor who gave one of the clearest explanations of the Orthodox church schism and why it is supported by many Ukrainians. We’ll feature her in an upcoming segment.

In my conversations with clergy here, whenever I ask about Christian persecution in Ukraine, they seem perplexed by the question. Bishop Gashchenko even suggested that he enjoys greater religious freedom than many Americans, noting that while U.S. churches were forced to close during COVID, services in Ukraine continued, with most Ukrainians still remaining unvaccinated due to limited vaccine availability.

​Ultimately, these two Protestant churches exemplify the thriving religious freedom on this side of the frontlines. The Russian disinformation claiming persecution of Christians in Ukraine is utterly unfounded. The arrest of Russian Orthodox priests acting as spies isn’t about religious persecution—it’s about their illegal activities and espionage, as they continue to support Russia and spread propaganda from the pulpit.

This church would make most American Evangelicals feel at home.
This Ukrainian mega-church in Irpin has everything— a theater-style chapel, professional cameras, lights, a worship band, plenty of children, gourmet coffee, and a well-known pastor. Most importantly, it boasts a thriving congregation.

This Baptist church in Irpin has everything— a theater-style chapel, professional cameras, lights, a worship band, plenty of children, gourmet coffee, and a well-known pastor. Most importantly, it boasts a thriving congregation.

​However, the church’s story took a dramatic turn in February 2022, when Russia invaded from the north. Russian forces shelled the area from occupied Bucha as they attempted to advance on Kyiv. They came close but were ultimately halted in Irpin and forced to retreat.

Senior Pastor Mykola Romaniuk at Irpin Bible Church 

The attached short video captures a typical Sunday service, as well as a brief excerpt from an interview with Sr. Pastor Mykola Romaniuk. Born into a multi-generational Baptist family—common in Ukraine—Pastor Romaniuk shares how faith, hope, service, and fellowship help sustain the faithful through wartime. He discusses how the trials, such as PTSD, can actually strengthen both the church and its members. This insightful interview will be featured in greater detail in the upcoming documentary Beyond Bucha, which I am currently filming here in Ukraine.

​One vital point that I discussed with the pastor is that discrimination against Christians in Ukraine is virtually nonexistent. The only exception is the arrest of Russian "spy-priests" from the Russian Orthodox Church, accused of providing intelligence to Moscow, reminiscent of Soviet-era tactics. As I continue my tour of Ukraine's Evangelical churches, it’s clear that persecution of Christians, or any other religious group, is simply not an issue here. The only individuals targeted are Moscow Orthodox “spy-priests” leading services in some of Ukraine's grandest Orthodox churches and cathedrals.

Bucha is my favorite spot in Ukraine.
By Steve Richards

I just finished lunch at the bustling Viktoria Park Hotel here in Bucha, and as I sat there, it struck me: what if I had been here during the occupation? An American documentarian in occupied Ukraine? My days would have been numbered. I’d either be the latest Russian prisoner on trumped-up espionage charges, or even shot dead on the streets, like so many Bucha residents. Artillery shells filled the skies, Javelins destroyed Russian tanks, and people sheltered in their basements. No one roamed the streets, not even the Russian soldiers, who feared being picked off by Bucha’s defiant citizens.

Now, more than two and a half years later, it couldn't be nicer. The weather is a comfortable 60 degrees, partly cloudy—just like Boston. The town, home to just over 31,000 people before the war is perhaps even larger now given the traffic. It’s filled with forests, nice homes, and apartments. Bucha has reclaimed its identity as a trendy Kyiv suburb, complete with a commuter rail station. Kyiv is just 14 miles away, about a 45-minute drive. The noisiest things around this weekend here were the two wedding receptions at the hotel over the weekend. The DJ’s played western hits.

It all feels so normal now. The McDonald's reopened quickly, though I don’t remember seeing a Domino's before. New shops are flourishing, windows throughout the town replaced as if nothing ever happened. The blown-out houses on Vokzalna Street, where the Russian advance was halted, have been completely rebuilt, thanks to international contributors like Miami based Global Empowerment Mission and Howard Buffett, Warren Buffett’s son.

After five days in Kharkiv last week I’ve been here all weekend, capturing footage of a local Evangelical church in Irpin, the next town over. Tomorrow, I’m interviewing its pastor before heading to Dnipro.

To be honest, it feels like a bit of a holiday. No air raid sirens here. They’re rare in Bucha now, unlike in Kyiv, and even more so in Kharkiv. There are no major targets for the Russians here, though I imagine they have plans to strike the power infrastructure as the winter deepens.
​
Part of the reason I returned this past weekend was an invitation from old friends from April 2022 to a borscht dinner. They’ve been so kind, though I’m still not used to the endless vodka shots before, during, and after meals. Lesson learned: wine and vodka don’t mix well over dinner.

Julia in front of Jul's Coffee and Ice Cream

Jul’s Coffee and Cocktails
Bucha’s entrepreneurial spirit impresses me, grounded in a faith—faith not just in God, though that’s part of it, but faith in Ukraine’s ultimate victory. You don’t invest like this if you think the Russians are coming back. It’s possible, of course, but few here seem to think it likely.

Take Julia, the owner of Jul’s Coffee and Peace. Anyone who’s seen Back to Bucha – Finding the Spirit in Ukraine knows Julia and her story of returning to Bucha in the summer of 2022 to rebuild. When I visited in January 2023, her coffee shop had been fully restored after being destroyed. And by the holiday season in January 2024, I was back again and screening Back to Bucha at her new restaurant, Burger Bunker.

Now, I’ve returned just in time for the opening of her latest venture: Jul’s Coffee and Cocktails, a beautiful little cocktail house that also serves duck breast, risotto and mushrooms, and tiramisu. She’s also opened Jul’s Coffee and Ice Cream in a nearby park, housed in a little artisan metal building that looks like Tinkerbell’s house—a little slice of Disney World right here in Bucha. Other creations are on the horizon, and all are in Bucha. Her way of giving back a bit of joy to her Bucha as she calls it. Profit is not high on the list of objectives. Jobs and economic activity a tremendous result. It’s all truly remarkable from a woman who had no experience in any of these trades. She has received no insurance nor government money. Just a bit of cooperation from the mayor’s office. The biggest problem? As the mother of five she is just dead tired.

In the short video attached, you can see the petite diamond cross around her neck, a symbol of her Christian faith. This lady has faith. In God, herself, her family, Bucha and Ukraine.

​Call it faith-based Capitalism. It is common throughout Ukraine. And for those that say Ukraine is destroyed, and the war unwinnable, I say come to Bucha.

Last Sunday, I attended the 10:00 a.m. service at Bethany Baptist Church in Bucha, a gathering that felt like it could have taken place anywhere across the U.S. I’ve captured the experience in the short video below. What makes this moment especially profound is that services like this can only happen in unoccupied Ukraine. In areas under Russian control, such as Crimea and the Donbas, gatherings like these are prohibited. Bucha itself was under Russian occupation for a month following the full-scale invasion in February 2022. Though the Russians retreated in March, they left behind a trail of well-documented atrocities and war crimes.

The next day, I had the privilege of interviewing Pastor Oleksandr (Sasha) Kulbych, the senior pastor of Bethany Baptist. One of the first things you'll notice about him is his excellent English, owing to his family’s strong ties to the U.S. and the U.K. However, it may be a while before he can visit either country, as men aged 18 to 60 are not allowed to leave Ukraine due to martial law. Pastor Kulbych is a fourth-generation Baptist pastor, with roots dating back to the Soviet era, when his great-great-grandfather was imprisoned for many years for preaching the gospel. He draws inspiration from the ministries of Billy and Franklin Graham. In fact, his was the first church of any kind in Bucha, planted in 1991 as a mission of the Baptist Church Union in Kyiv, and he has been with the church since its founding.

I felt a bit awkward asking the question I plan to pose to all the clergy I meet on this trip—whether they or their church had experienced any persecution. Kulbych seemed surprised and simply answered, "no." He explained that Ukraine is considered the freest of all former Soviet states and satellite countries when it comes to religious freedom.

We also briefly discussed the schism within Ukraine’s Orthodox Church and the government’s efforts to address "spy priests." Kulbych didn’t have much to say on the topic, suggesting it was an issue best left to Orthodox clergy.

What weighs much more heavily on his mind is how the war has affected his congregation. Several of his parishioners were killed by Russian soldiers during the initial occupation, and many others are currently serving in the military, which has put much of the church’s activities on hold. PTSD is common among his congregation, as many witnessed firsthand the brutalities of Russia’s occupation. As the war continues, religious communities across Ukraine are grappling with how they will support returning soldiers, particularly since the government is seen as offering little more than lip service to addressing this looming crisis.

​But on this Sunday, it simply felt like church. Children filled the nursery, the band on stage played worship songs, and though I couldn’t understand a word of the sermon, it was clear. The presence of the Spirit was unmistakable, and despite everything this church has endured, its strength and resilience will carry it forward for generations, God willing.

By Steve Richards

How many times have I stayed in Kyiv over the past few years? At least five or six—probably close to a month in total since April 2022.

Tonight, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it’s the jet lag, since I arrived just before lunch after a three-day trek. I took the Kyiv Express from Warsaw, which left at 6 PM on Wednesday. The ride lived up to its name, though I’m pretty sure the sleeping car attendant was eager to get home early. The compartment was beautiful—I even got a private one. Paneled walls, a private sink (don’t drink the water)—I was living in style! One tip for next time: make sure I have everything I need for the 18-hour journey, if I plan on ordering tea or coffee that is. The attendant only accepted Ukrainian hryvnia—no Polish zloty, despite the train originating in Poland. Dollars weren’t welcome either, although I did manage to convince him that a $20 was worth a cup of tea.
 
Honestly, though, I think the reason I couldn’t sleep was the quiet. After flipping through the limited English channels (CNN and BBC, for me at least), I turned off the TV and noticed just how eerily silent it was outside my 10th-floor room, overlooking Maidan Square. I had the windows open—it was a beautiful evening, with weather that reminded me of Boston in the fall, around the 50s. Every other time I’ve been here, it’s been winter or early spring—basically, freezing cold, like Boston.

But tonight, with the windows open, the silence was almost unsettling. In all my travels, I’ve never experienced anything like it. Even in the quietest places, there’s usually a distant car, a siren, or some background noise. But here, in this big European city, there was nothing. Not a sound.

It’s in moments like these when the Spirit seems to nudge me, filling my mind with thoughts and ideas, keeping me awake. So, I got up and decided to capture some footage outside the window, a little after midnight. Then I figured I’d explore the hotel, see if anyone was awake. I threw on some clothes and headed down the elevator.

Nope. Just me and the guard in camo. The front desk was closed, the bar was closed—nothing but silence, aside from the guard, who, like the train attendant, seemed ready to call it a night.

I’ve always had a soft spot for the Ukraine Hotel. It’s a relic of the Soviet era, and I can easily imagine party officials having a grand time here back when it was called the Moscow Hotel. These days, its basements serve as bomb shelters, a labyrinth of thick walls and submarine-style steel doors. Rumor has it there’s a tunnel leading to the Presidential Palace. I believe it—the hotel feels like the safest place in Kyiv, especially with reports that a Patriot missile battery protects the nearby government buildings.

But the real reason this silence feels so strange? It won’t last. Whether it’s in a day, a week, or an hour, the sirens will wail, and the explosions will follow.

Oddly, there’s something comforting about the curfew that causes this quiet. No ambulances racing to the ER, no late-night shootings. I think about how many people are shot, or how many car accidents happen in these hours in places like Miami or Boston. In some ways, it feels safer here. But then again, the threat of a terrorist’s missile brings a different kind of anxiety than a mass shooter or armed robber back home.

​I guess I’ll get used to it—just like everyone else.