Following a week of “here, there, and everywhere”, it was great to finally land in our home for the next 3 weeks (and I mean home, Gorodishche is our true home in Belarus). With numbers now exceeding 200, there are a lot of new faces in the past year (and a few new ones since we were last here in January). We have also lost a couple since our last visit – rest in peace.
The trip now takes on a sense of routine and structure – albeit that’s what I call what we are doing (where no two days are the same and no day is predictable – you see what I say, it’s routine and structure Gorodishche style!).
I’m doing some studying now, a subject that will be critical for Project 3 on the #importanterstuff journey. It means a 06:30 start and I have enough done before the 08:00 feeding starts in the beds and cots. I know that the staff (Mamas and Nursing) look at me as an oddity. It’s unusual for men in Belarus to volunteer in orphanages, and they certainly don’t travel across Europe in the service of others. I can say – I’m happy to be odd.
The next sense of routine is feeding in the beds and cots again at 12:00. Apart from what I described above, the rest is organised chaos (not quite the 9 to 5 routine of yesteryear).
I know I said that we would be careful, not take any risks, stay away from the war, and generally be sensible. But we’re in Belarus, where does sensible fit in that arrangement?
A road trip was required to meet “my boy”. Kirill left Gorodishche in 2019 to move to a place that’s best described as an Independent Living Community. It’s in Damachava, still in Belarus but happens to be 1 mile from the Polish border and 10 miles from the Ukraine border. Closer than I imagined we would ever get to Ukraine (and with all the recent news about the Polish border) but we are not leaving Belarus without meeting my boy!
His parents are alive (although they seldom visit him) but Kirill chooses to call me “Dad”. We formed a bond on my first visit when he shone out of the crowd of shining people in the group that includes Tanya (more on her later). He’s handsome and very bright. His challenge, legs and arms that are useless to him (although he does show some amazing skill with his twisted hands when asked to enter a phone number into an old Nokia when we meet him in Damachava).
It’s a 500km round trip for us, but it was worth every km (easy for me to say as a passenger, Yura is the real hero as he has driven from Minsk, adding 300km to his round trip).
Kirill seems contented, I’m loathed to say happy. He shares a room with another young man from Gorodishche (Yura – not the driver one!). They have nice living quarters with two beds, a computer desk (that’s important for Kirill), a fridge, a table, and a TV. They share a toilet and separate shower room with the guys who live in the adjacent room. The community (over 300 people here too) spans across buildings (large and small) and has exceptionally well-maintained grounds. When we arrive, we are checked in (we’re on the list so all is good to go) and allowed to move about freely in the house and gardens – not something that we were expecting.
Kirill doesn’t work, his legs and arms wouldn’t allow him to, but we meet others that all have a purpose – they even have 80 sheep on the farm (but that’s meant to be a secret!). I know that it’s hard for Kirill to put down his time, and although he says he is settled, I know that he misses all of what he knew so well in Gorodishche.
We chat (his English is really improving) and we have lunch together – we brought everything we had in the kitchen back in Gorodishche and leave what isn’t eaten for their next lunch. We stay outdoors most of the time, enjoying the weather and, most especially, the company. There are others from Gorodishche (Yura and Natasha we know well, but there are three others that left before we first visited Gorodishche).
As we head to the minibus (and the journey home), Kirill gets to use the English words he’s been saving for this visit. “Dad, I Love You,” he says as we hug (remember he has no arms to speak of) and we head back to the safety of “miles from borders” Gorodishche. A trip that will be made again, I’m sure.
You know when people tell you – “you’re turning into your father” – and you are totally in denial (although not all of what my dad does is necessarily stuff that I wouldn’t want to do myself!). You know the way you started following your children around the house turning off lights and muttering to yourself – “damn I think I’m turning into my dad!”.
Well, this moved on a notch since I arrived in Gorodishche. Allow me to explain. If you call my parents’ house early in the morning (the landline of course – they rarely have their “mobile” phones nearby) you will get a tone akin to a disconnected number. That’s because my dad plugs out EVERYTHING in the house before he goes to bed, disconnecting the internet (not that it’s used much) and . . . the landline. I’ve never understood the logic, until now!
There have been quite a few thunderstorms here since we arrived, impressive stuff with full-on fork-lightening and powerful rumblings. The Belarus power supply does not appear to be very robust; we regularly lose all power during the storms. Now, enter “dad mode”. I’ve become paranoid about equipment that might get fried as a result of the up/down nature of the power grid so I’m now plugging out everything at night (and in the day if I suspect that a storm is inbound). Given that my dad grew up in 1950s Ireland (where the power infrastructure was probably equally as volatile, I get the plugging out). It’s important now (and I will bring this new “gift” home to my boys who will love the fact that I’ve become more like my dad – although I hope that I can stave off the driving habits for another few years!).
PS. Yes, I did get to watch the Ireland/Italy game here!
Belarus is still quite an agriculturally based society, even in Minsk we see that people grow their own crops. This, coupled with the generosity of the people we meet here, means that we have been supplied with the freshest produce daily (and sometimes multiple times a day) since our arrival. And people want to cook for us, they want us to taste the best that Belarus has to offer (a little challenge when you consider that Joanne is vegetarian). I have told them, “I will try it regardless of what it is” – I hope I won’t regret this in the coming weeks!
We’ve had peaches, cucumbers, potatoes, and tomatoes from the gardens of Tamara, Irina, Valia, and Yulia., fresh quail eggs from Tamara – you need 3 or 4 to make breakfast, pancakes from Irina and Yulia, and I’ve had chicken and potato dinners from Irina and Yulia (Joanne was even given vegetarian dinner one evening from Irina’s cousin). But the one item of food that needs mention above others is Kohlrabi – I can see you all Googling from here!
We got two of these “things” from Tamara and we had to Google (you’re all off the hook now) to see what it was and, most importantly, what you do with it. It looks like a small turnip and cuts like a turnip but is classified as cabbage. Chopped finely with some mayonnaise and we discover a whole new style of coleslaw – I’ll be rushing down to Dunnes to grab a few of these when I get home!
We frantically try to meet every group in Gorodishche on the weekend of our arrival (we must learn to pace ourselves!). People to see, hugs to be given (and taken) and time to see who’s where since our last visit (there are always a few changes in the groups). It’s not long before we are firmly established as Joanna and Joanna muzh (that Joanne’s husband in Russian – I’m clearly a second-class citizen in the world where Joanna is Queen!)
There are meetings and greetings aplenty and the joy is palpable. There were Irish here just a few days ago, but every new visitor is greeted with the same level of delight.
One can never tell when a moment of “Gorodishche Magic” will occur, and looking for them is futile as there is nothing predictable here. We were on the outdoor gazebo with the girls from Group 6, it was one of the finer days where most were sitting/standing outside to keep clear of the sun. Valia is a girl that likes to sit apart from the group, she’s only seen in the middle when there are sweets on offer. I sit close to her; I know that she likes to be alone. I reach out my hand and she, staring straight ahead, reaches out hers. Before I know it, I am allowed to move a little closer and hold both of her hands, she even offers a smile when I take my hand away and offer it back. This is what coming to Gorodishche is all about, those pure moments of magic.
I told the Shannon Folk Group that I’d be back between projects, I would sing with them in October, and again for Christmas. Sister Jo. made me promise – and she’s not a sister that you mess with 😊. Well, maybe I’ll be converted by then!
For the entire week, we are awaiting the arrival of Layla and her crew. No other context, simply “Layla would like to meet you”. It’s planned for Saturday the 19th, but this won’t work as there is a street party in Gorodishche on that day (woo-hoo another party that we’re invited to). Later than expected, Irina arrives at the kitchen and says we are to go to the theatre (there is an actual – velvet chairs and all – theatre on site). I get there, to see a group of about 11 people that are organising things with the kids. One of them (he subsequently became Michael) has a guitar and . . . he speaks English. He explains that they are a Baptist Group from Minsk that regularly visit Gorodishche. I’m brought to all the rooms where the kids are engaged in dancing, singing, painting cookies, painting hats, and colouring. Each group is led by 1 or 2 of the Baptist team. At the end of all the individual groups, it all comes together as a show (singing and dancing) and show-and-tell (all the artists) in the theatre. Everyone is having a ball.
OK, now to that conversion that I told you about. An eagle eye spots my guitar nails and I’m quickly interrogated – what do I play, will I sing? Not today, it’s not about me right now! In the lunch gathering that follows, Joanne and I are invited to sing at the Baptist Church in Minsk when we arrive there (we sing a couple of songs whilst enjoying lunch). We are also invited to dinner with Layla when we are in Minsk, we duly accept the challenge and the offer. More to follow on this story.
At home, it has been a sad week. On Sunday morning we got the news that Angela (David’s mother, Joanne’s aunt) had passed away in the company of her family. We had been in touch with all of them in the days leading up to her passing, and we had visited her in Belfast two days before we flew to Belarus (the end was in sight at that time). Joanne watched the funeral (God bless technology) online as I went from group to group with the Baptists. Fittingly, as had been sung at the funeral, Joanne sang “Voice Of An Angel” as one of the pieces that we shared over lunch. Angela is at peace now, Ar dheis Dé go raibh a hanam.
I thought I had written my last words, the highlights and low lowlights of the week that was. But there was one more “moment” to come. We went to say good night to our girls (Seryozha [Sergei] now qualifies as one of the girls – but I won’t tell him that!).
Tanya and Vaselina made special cards for Joanne and me. I’ll leave this here (excuse the “ransom note” effect that Google Translate offered as the closest English version of my card!).
Can you see now how coming to Gorodishche has such appeal?
A Random Selection Of Week 2 Photos
Importanter Stuff 
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