Forgotten Ancestors: A Journey to Western Ukraine

What an extraordinary day! After an uneventful trip on a brand new Ukrainian train where we were neither gassed nor robbed, we arrived in Lviv at 4:30 am to meet our translator and driver, Slav Tsarynnyk, owner of Lviv Ecotour. Slav speaks perfect English and is very familiar with the area. I like his demeanor and humor. I feel as though I know Slav well since we have been in e-mail contact for months. He has kindly, and with patience, answered all our questions and addressed all our concerns.

Slav has a comfortable new car with plenty of room for both the luggage and us. We got right to the task at hand and drove 57 miles WSW from Lviv to reach the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains-- crockpot to my gene pool.

He took us to Dobromil, close to where Grandpop Wojtowicz (Voytovich) was born and we checked into a surprisingly nice, brand new hotel. It cost $12 per person a night--that's with private bath! I am sitting in their 30 computer Internet cafe right now. This is amazing since, when we look out the window, it feels like the 19th century.

We spent several hours touring the local cemetary (where to our horror, we spied an exposed corpse in a vandalized grave--hands folded, shoes askew!)

The town is small and probably not a great deal different from Grandpop's time. Streets are mainly unpaved and the buildings are old and need some love. I like the place, though--it has a nice ease about it. We talked to locals who were extremely helpful in introducing us to people with my ancestors' surnames. Found a Mr. Cycyk who has my father's eyes. An 84 year old man named Wojtowicz, born in Hubici, is supposed to contact us (keeping fingers crossed.)

Slav then heroically drove us up, up a most challenging road to see the ancient Basilian monastery high above Dobromil. The scenery is breathtaking. The church there is called St. Onufriy's. This monestary had been used as a hospital for the mentally ill during the Soviet regime and is now in disrepair. It was originally constructed over an underground river and, unfortunately, the drainage is blocked. Dampness is crawling up the walls and in some places, like the magnificent bell tower, there is standing water. The place is a real treasure and I hope it doesn't crumble to pieces. Ukraine doesn't have the money to restore and maintain the many historically significant sites that would be such a boon to the emerging tourist industry.

Brother Illya, one of the three resident monks, offered to guide us to the ruins of a castle supposedly a twenty minute walk away. We began to traverse mainly upward, through memorable vistas shrouded in mist. Throughout the week as we meandered through the valley we could see the monastery from everywhere we looked, a constant presence in everyone's life. An hour and a half later, soaked through with rain and heavy with mud, we exuberantly arrived at the top of the highest point to see a castle from the 1300's. This, too, is falling apart. The locals have been taking the stones and bricks for hundreds of years to build their own dwellings. I must say, this vandalism is impressive--I can't imagine how they got the bricks and stones down off this site! What is left of this castle is still interesting and is certainly worth the challenging hike.

I woke early to gentle murmurs in Ukrainian outside my window and the sounds of cows being driven to pasture. Being enveloped in quiet Ukrainian chatter takes me back to childhood.

posted by Sandy @ 10:31 AM