The Basement Diaries 03
Kyiv - December 2022
I had a couple of days of official leave just after Christmas. My CO insisted I take the time off.
I say "after Christmas" because, this year, more and more people in Ukraine have taken to celebrating Christmas day on 25 December, rather than on our traditional date of 7 January, under the old Julian calendar. It has taken us a mere five hundred years to catch up. 25 December was declared a public holiday here in 2017, but the churches continued to observe 7 January as Christmas day.
In January 2019, the Ukrainian Orthodox Church was recognised by the leading bodies of Eastern Orthodoxy as separate from and independent of the Russian Orthodox Church. Russia, both church and state, have refused to recognise this independence and the Moscow Patriarch, Kirill, has sought to undermine the Ukrainian Church, and government, at every opportunity. Kirill is a staunch ally of Putin.
Celebrating Christmas on 25 December is largely a rejection of old Russian customs, part of our continuing pivot towards the west. It changes none of the doctrinal beliefs of the church.
I spent part of my first day's leave looking into the possibility of installing a wood burning stove in the basement. It would be a source of warmth, of course, and a cheerful addition to our living space. The only problem is finding a route for the flue. We don't want the basement filling up with smoke. I have passed this project on to Lesia and Sofiia while I am on duty this week and sleeping at the bunker. I gave them a do-not-exceed budget to find and cost a solution. Then we can look at funding the actual work.
The second day, I spent mainly scavenging. Not as desperate or dramatic as it sounds. I use the term to describe the process of going around all the food shops within walking distance of my building, seeing what is available. There are some shortages, of course. We are in the middle of winter, so many fresh fruits and vegetables would be in short supply anyway, and supermarket imports are restricted. I do this on foot, because I don't want to use precious fuel driving - my poor car has been largely ignored recently and sits in an underground parking facility, waiting for release.
It was a cold and damp day, foggy. I was glad for my thermal underwear and winter fatigues. These days, I more or less live in my uniform. The "scavenging" was successful - and more fun than a supermarket shop. I found fresh bread, butter, garlic and smoked sausages, eggs, tea (in case the coffee runs out), and a couple of cans of tomatoes. I also got twenty litres of bottled water, which the shopkeeper agreed to deliver to my building on his way home. The advantage of an officer's uniform and a winning smile. And he got a good tip.
When everyone was home in the evening, I cooked a pasta to celebrate the end of my Christmas break. I made a sauce from the tomatoes, with some onions, smoked sausages and garlic we already had. I opened a bottle of Merlot.
We are very civilised in our basement hideaway. Although we do not dress for dinner, we do not appear in our underwear. We have a proper dining table and chairs, we could seat eight if we ever get into giving chic dinner parties. We have elegant crockery and glasses, silver cutlery - no one eats with their hands, even after washing. The theme is candle lit and romantic...
Conversation is sharp and witty, ranging from the profound to the heights of fantasy, but occasionally delving into mutual piss taking and creative insult.
When we were finished and the dishes all washed and put away - as cook I am excused this duty - I broke into my coffee reserve and brewed up some seriously good espresso. Yes, I did move the coffee machine down from my apartment.
My leave ended at midnight and I was back on stand-by. I tried to get some sleep, but it is not one of my strong points. I rested, dozed, slept fitfully,
And just before 08:00, I reported for duty at the bunker.
I had a couple of days of official leave just after Christmas. My CO insisted I take the time off.
I say "after Christmas" because, this year, more and more people in Ukraine have taken to celebrating Christmas day on 25 December, rather than on our traditional date of 7 January, under the old Julian calendar. It has taken us a mere five hundred years to catch up. 25 December was declared a public holiday here in 2017, but the churches continued to observe 7 January as Christmas day.
In January 2019, the Ukrainian Orthodox Church was recognised by the leading bodies of Eastern Orthodoxy as separate from and independent of the Russian Orthodox Church. Russia, both church and state, have refused to recognise this independence and the Moscow Patriarch, Kirill, has sought to undermine the Ukrainian Church, and government, at every opportunity. Kirill is a staunch ally of Putin.
Celebrating Christmas on 25 December is largely a rejection of old Russian customs, part of our continuing pivot towards the west. It changes none of the doctrinal beliefs of the church.
I spent part of my first day's leave looking into the possibility of installing a wood burning stove in the basement. It would be a source of warmth, of course, and a cheerful addition to our living space. The only problem is finding a route for the flue. We don't want the basement filling up with smoke. I have passed this project on to Lesia and Sofiia while I am on duty this week and sleeping at the bunker. I gave them a do-not-exceed budget to find and cost a solution. Then we can look at funding the actual work.
The second day, I spent mainly scavenging. Not as desperate or dramatic as it sounds. I use the term to describe the process of going around all the food shops within walking distance of my building, seeing what is available. There are some shortages, of course. We are in the middle of winter, so many fresh fruits and vegetables would be in short supply anyway, and supermarket imports are restricted. I do this on foot, because I don't want to use precious fuel driving - my poor car has been largely ignored recently and sits in an underground parking facility, waiting for release.
It was a cold and damp day, foggy. I was glad for my thermal underwear and winter fatigues. These days, I more or less live in my uniform. The "scavenging" was successful - and more fun than a supermarket shop. I found fresh bread, butter, garlic and smoked sausages, eggs, tea (in case the coffee runs out), and a couple of cans of tomatoes. I also got twenty litres of bottled water, which the shopkeeper agreed to deliver to my building on his way home. The advantage of an officer's uniform and a winning smile. And he got a good tip.
When everyone was home in the evening, I cooked a pasta to celebrate the end of my Christmas break. I made a sauce from the tomatoes, with some onions, smoked sausages and garlic we already had. I opened a bottle of Merlot.
We are very civilised in our basement hideaway. Although we do not dress for dinner, we do not appear in our underwear. We have a proper dining table and chairs, we could seat eight if we ever get into giving chic dinner parties. We have elegant crockery and glasses, silver cutlery - no one eats with their hands, even after washing. The theme is candle lit and romantic...
Conversation is sharp and witty, ranging from the profound to the heights of fantasy, but occasionally delving into mutual piss taking and creative insult.
When we were finished and the dishes all washed and put away - as cook I am excused this duty - I broke into my coffee reserve and brewed up some seriously good espresso. Yes, I did move the coffee machine down from my apartment.
My leave ended at midnight and I was back on stand-by. I tried to get some sleep, but it is not one of my strong points. I rested, dozed, slept fitfully,
And just before 08:00, I reported for duty at the bunker.
