Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Travel: Straddling east and west

Ukraine’s capital city, Kiev, is a fascinating blend of ancient and modern, east and west
63562_l

It's only a half hour taxi ride from the airport to the Dnieper River where our ship is docked but by the time it was over I had shed all my preconceived ideas about the city of Kiev. Everything I had read about modern Ukraine - its depressed economy, runaway inflation and mass unemployment - had prepared me to find a drab Eastern European city struggling with economic hardship. But Ukraine's capital city is anything but drab.

As we made our way through centre town I was surprised to see broad boulevards packed with shiny late-model cars and crowds of well-dressed pedestrians scurrying past modern shops stocked with everything from TVs to high fashion clothing. Except for the golden domes of Eastern Orthodox churches scattered among the modern steel and concrete buildings I could have been in any prosperous Western European city.

I expressed my surprise in a later conversation with Henry, one of the ship's officers. "It's true," he told me "Kiev is a very rich city in a very poor country. There are more BMWs and Mercedes here than in my hometown of Berlin."

Asked about the source of the city's wealth he shrugged. "There is a lot of industry here." Then added with a smile "And there are other sources of money."

I left it at that but over the next couple of weeks I got some insight into those "other sources."

It's generally acknowledged that 60 per cent of Ukraine's economy operates outside the tax system. As one fellow told me with a chuckle, "If your company is paying taxes its time to fire your accountant." And many of the movers and shakers of Ukraine's underground economy have migrated to Kiev and brought their money with them. They have also turned it into a vibrant, modern city while still preserving the legacy of its long and turbulent history.

One of the oldest cities in Europe, Kiev straddles the Dnieper River on a site that has been continuously occupied for 1,500 years. In 879 Viking traders displaced the original Magyar settlers and established the principality of Kyivan Rus. Scandinavian King Oleh declared himself ruler and for the next 360 years Kyivan Rus prospered as a commercial and cultural centre on the trade route between the Baltic and Black seas. Christianity was adopted as the official religion and many of Kiev's magnificent domed churches were built during the Kyivan Rus period.

On a hill high above our anchorage on the Dnieper River the green, gilded domes of St Andrew's church are silhouetted against the sky. According to legend the site was chosen by the Apostle Andrew who predicted: "On these hills divine grace will shine. There will be a great city, and God will erect many churches here." And he was right. By the 12 th century there were more than 400 churches and monasteries in the Kyivan metropolis. But in 1240 Mongol raiders took over from God. Kiev was sacked and only a few of the original buildings were spared, among them the majestic St. Sophia Cathedral.

Consecrated in 1037 by Yaroslav the Wise, last of the great Kyivan Rus rulers, St. Sophia Cathedral is the city's oldest church. We made our way through the bell tower entrance into the central courtyard where the 12 naves and 19 domes of the cathedral are surrounded by wooded parkland. The interior is a maze of pillars, arches, and recessed chambers, all completely covered with ancient religious frescos and mosaics. The vaulted central apse features a towering, gold embossed alter with a six-metre portrait of the Virgin Mary flanked by smaller portraits of Jesus. In another corner of the church a white marble sarcophagus contains the remains of Yaroslav the Wise and his wife Irene. The couple has been dead for almost 1,000 years but the faithful still come to pay homage to what is left of them - and St. Sophia is not the only church where the remains of the dead are revered.

In the deep recesses of Kiev's Pecherska Lavra the Christian fetish with the sanctity of human remains borders on the bizarre. At the bottom of a steep stairwell I ducked into a narrow, dimly lit passageway leading into the lower Lavra. The woman ahead of me paused to light her taper from a cluster of candles flickering in a tiny alter carved into the right wall of the cave. She then turned, bent over one of the caskets lining the opposite wall and whispered some words to its occupant. I don't know what she said but the monk she spoke to has been dead for at least 500 years. His mummified remains, along with those of 123 of his colleagues, are tucked into niches along the labyrinth of tunnels and into the subterranean rooms and churches of Kiev's Kievo-Pecherska Lavra (Cave Monastery).

Founded by the Greek St. Anthony in 1051 the Lavra was initially a natural cave system. But over the centuries, before the surface buildings were built, his followers carved out a complex of rooms and interconnecting tunnels where the monks lived, prayed and interred their dead. Depending on your religious conviction the survival of the mummified corpses can be attributed to the cool dry air of the caves or to divine intervention. In the minds of devout Orthodox pilgrims who come here seeking salvation there is no doubt - the survival of the mummies confirms that they were truly holy men and their remains are believed to have healing powers.

After the claustrophobic dimness of the caves it was a relief to return to the surface where the buildings of the Upper Lavra are surrounded by treed parkland and cobblestone streets. I spent the rest of the day wandering among the magnificent golden-domed churches and monasteries. Many of the ancient buildings have been turned into museums including one that displays a beautifully crafted replica of 11 th century Kiev when the entire city consisted of three adjacent walled villages draped over a hill on the west shore of the Dnieper River.

Before returning to our boat I found a viewpoint overlooking the river and watched the sunset. The Dnieper, which forms the geographic boundary between the forested hills of Europe to the west and the low-lying steppes stretching east to the Urals, cuts squarely through the centre of Kiev. On the hills of the west bank the fading light picked up the gold domes of ancient buildings scattered among the forested parks of the Old City. But on the east bank, where most of Kiev's three million people live, the only reflection came from the windows of countless high-rise apartment blocks.

The contrast between the two halves of Kiev was even more striking as we set sail down river early the next morning. On the west bank above our moorage the broad boulevards and spacious public squares of Kiev's commercial centre were already bustling with activity. Farther downstream the golden domes of the Lavra were barely visible above the surrounding trees. Only the Motherland monument, a towering statue of a woman holding a shield and sword, rises above the forest. If there ever were trees on the flat eastern bank they were long ago replaced by dull gray, Soviet style housing blocks that now sprawl from the suburbs right down to the river's edge. In Kiev the Dnieper truly is the geographic and cultural boundary between Eastern and Western Europe.