The Odesa Summer House

By Steve Richards

This trip to Ukraine has been unlike any of the others I’ve taken in the three years since my first, back in March 2022.

After taking the Kyiv Express and spending a couple of days in Bucha to check on friends I headed to Odesa. I’ve been here for the better part of a week.

But this time, I didn’t stay in a hotel. Instead, I was a guest of Viktoriia and Sasha at their relatively safe summer house outside the city, far from Odesa’s frequent targets. Now thirteen, Sasha’s no longer a tween and is a huge soccer fan.

Sasha

Aside from the drone and missile attack the night before last—which I slept through—I might as well be in Newport, Rhode Island (though I’ve never seen a private garden quite like this one). The weather has been perfect. Flowers are everywhere. There are public parks and gardens, mini-golf, lovely restaurants, the sea shore (Odesa sits on the coast of the Black Sea), and an easy, unhurried pace—made even slower by how many people have fled the city due to the constant attacks.

Second only to Kyiv, Odesa is the most frequently attacked city in Ukraine. I had tried to prepare myself for the terrifying conditions Viktoriia and Sasha endured during the school year at their apartment in town. In fact, I imagined writing a very different account of this visit—complete with explosions, devastated buildings, and casualty reports.

And certainly, there have been such reports during my time here. But life goes on, as it does all over Ukraine. People go to work, the trams run, parks, cafés, and churches are open, and the city’s renowned public gardens are lovingly tended.

A walkway through the garden.

Here at the summer house, Viktoriia and Sasha tend daily to the flowers and vegetables, making sure everything is watered and maintained. They even had me picking cherries from their trees—loaded with fruit! My favorite time of day? Morning walks through the garden, which bursts not just with roses (my favorite) and a rainbow of vegetables, but also with butterflies and pollinators of all kinds. Ukraine’s legendary soil is clearly doing its work here—as it does in fields all across the country.

Highlights of the trip?

The two screenings of Beyond Bucha are certainly near the top of the list.

But perhaps even more memorable is the chance to experience life here in such an intimate way. Viktoriia and Sasha have made me feel like family. It’s remarkable to think how this all began—with a conversation with John Andrews of the Jamestown Ukrainian Relief Project, who had seen my last film Back to Bucha on the recommendation of Alex Kuzma of the Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv. I met Viktoriia and Sasha at a charity polo match in Newport, invited by Linda Gaitonde of the Newport Ukrainian Relief Project. And the rest, as they say, is history.

There was a beautiful borscht dinner (complete with vodka shots) after they picked me up at the bus station, ending my six-hour ride from Kyiv last Friday. There have been endless cherries from the garden—and even a delicious rabbit dinner (my first), all prepared by Viktoriia.

Holly, their brilliant and incredibly lovable dog keeps an eye on me, carefully navigating the house and stairs a step ahead. She even roams the streets of Odesa without a leash—like so many other dogs here.

Holly

​My much-needed and long-delayed haircut was another high point—especially for the price: six bucks, ten with a generous (and unexpected) tip.

I also visited their apartment in the city. I wanted to see the site where Sasha experienced the shockwave from two ballistic missiles that caused the concussion he still suffers from. His condition is a constant concern for everyone who knows him, including friends from the Jamestown/Newport area. His father attended the Naval War College when Sasha was in kindergarten, and the family left a lasting impression. Now redeployed to the front, “the man of the house” is never far from anyone’s thoughts.

We stay updated on the news—including rising tensions with Iran—though of course Ukrainian news dominates. Everyone here lives braced for the next attack. Explosions and anti-aircraft fire are part of daily life.

Remarkably, power and internet have remained rock solid. A real testament to the country’s resilience.

I also conducted an interview for a future film with a doctor from a rehabilitation clinic here. A medic in Mariupol and a former Russian captive, his stories are harrowing. I was even interviewed for The Ukrainian Review.

​There was even time for a bit of sightseeing, including a two-hour tour of Odesa’s vast catacombs. Most were dug out of limestone in the 19th century for Odesa’s construction. During the Cold War, they were repurposed as bomb shelters against nuclear attack. The irony is never lost on me: America and the USSR—of which Ukraine was once a part—each had ICBMs pointed at the other. Ukraine gave up its nuclear weapons under the 1994 Budapest Memorandum in exchange for security guarantees from Russia, the UK, and the USA. Sadly, America’s assurances have proven unreliable. And Russia’s? Always laughable.

Today I head to Moldova for a flight back to the U.S. tomorrow—my first time returning home without passing through Warsaw. Since Moldova is much closer to Odesa, I’m glad to avoid the long train or bus ride.

It’s been an unforgettable trip. While I hate leaving my friends to face the daily realities of life here, I have to admit—I’m a bit envious of the summer house life they’ve created.

Maybe I’ll be back when the tomatoes are ripe.

Viktoriia and Holly tending the garden.