From Belarus with Love

A grey Belarusian evening lands before a car window pan, the driver enters the address on a GPS navigator. Vivien explains how to get to her place.

We speak English as Russian — still — is not a piece of cake for Vivien and said remains unclear due to her Irish accent, thick as Guinness.

Chervien is a typical Belarusian provincial town. An orthodox church, a catholic church, a Lenin on the square. Plus an executive committee, a restaurant and youth making 25 kilometers to visit disco party.

“My first time her was in January, 2001. I arrived to look around, to visit the country. I understood it had been the longest week in my life when I returned to Ireland,”

However, right in this middle of nowhere for a usual European Vivien found her true love — a woman named Natallia. Together, they bring up Natallia’s 15-year-old son, work with kids with disabilities and fight unfavorable public opinion.

Scene: a big cosy kitchen on the top floor. Grey houses behind the window, able only to shatter one’s mental health.

Fridge door holds Virgin Mary, pride-calendar and a photo of rosy- cheeked teen Mikita, the son of Natallia.

We sit at solid wooden table, eat biscuits and try to understand how Vivien got there.

She is 32, she was born in Limerick, graduated from Dublin University with the degree on TV-production.

Vivien says she has always wanted to help people. Yet, radio saved her from malaria and severe tan: she heard of Belarus once. She went to Chervien to help Chernobyl kid sufferers. First time it was a week, then 3 months and then — 10 years.

Firstly, she was impressed by few automobiles, the horse carriages — just like in old documentaries, by removing fallen leaves with hands and then burning them. Belarus reminded Ireland 40 years ago. She was also impressed by the absence of diapers in orphanages.

“You enter a 25-bed room with children — and then comes the smell,”

The ‘diaper campaign’ was the first Vivien participated. They fundraised in Ireland and brought diapers to Belarus through the whole Europe. Now everything may be bought here.

Irishmen have actively worked in Chervien since 1990’s. Not only here and not only they, but Chervien is the place where a group of Irish volunteers arrive every month or two. Someone always come on Eater and Halloween.

The volunteers are surely not paid, they simply like what they do.

Vivien make her living renting out her Irish house.

“Locals just do not understand the essence of voluntary work. They usually wonder if I have some tax benefits from this.”

The other ridiculous thing is the need to renew a volunteer’s visa every year and cross Belarus’ border every three months.

Vivien could have become one of many one-week-volunteer but for a dramatic story.

“Once I took a girl, Kryscina, from an orphanage and brought her to Ireland for 9 months. But Belarusian authorities decided to bring her and seven more kids back earlier for some reason. I understood I would not allow myself to leave her alone.”

She came back to Belarus and helped an Irish family to adopt the girl. Now Kryscina and two more kids live in Dublin.

Further story reminds a script of an independent pride-movie.

Episode 1: Vivien meets Natallia, the worker of orphanage. Natallia had spent all her life in Chervien and had a son. They speak different languages and do not understand each other.

Episode 2: Natallia covers Vivien with her coat on a cold night — first physical contact. They understand something extraordinary is happening between them.

Episode 3: Vivien leaves her friends’ dinner to reveal everything to Natallia: she cannot keep it inside anymore.

Looking for words in a phrasebook, she says, “I don’t know know what’s going on. Do you think its friendship or something different?”

“It’s different,” Natallia answered.

The couple got married in Ireland this summer. The ceremony gathered the whole family, dogs, flowers and a big pride-cake. It was first homosexual experience for both women.

She tells the story absolutely calmly, asking sometimes if we would like more tea. She made a voluntary coming out at our first meeting to avoid misunderstanding and gave us cart blanche: we are allowed to ask anything. They couple flaunt their relations but do not conceal them, too. In a small town like Chervien it is useless.

“There were talks. You go to a market and physically feel the eyes on you. Yet, it all calmed down as everyone got tired of talking it over — our life is not top secret. The openness is the best policy,”

A telephone rings and we hear good Russian: Vivien learned it by herself.

Then Natallia comes and we go to the only restaurant called Suzorje [Constellation].

Natallia’s son Mikita is working now helping his friends with construction.

“It is very important to understand whether you want to be engaged in manual labor all your life or to study,”

As we find out, Mikita is rather patriotic: he want to enter a Belarusian university even despite he may attend an Irish one. He has visited Ireland every summer sine he was 5.

We’re passing the latest Irish project: the day hospital for children with special needs. Vivien never uses word ‘disabled’.

Previously, it was one room in a kindergarten and even local dwellers did not know it existed. Now it is a detached house for developing programs, with paintings on the walls and new equipment.

It has been renovated during the last three years, the whole community participated. Only a playground remains unfinished.

Belarusian authorities’ input is simply the non-interference. It seems that Chervien is one of Belarus’ best cities for people with special needs.

The restaurant meets us with a mirror ball on the ceiling and a good choice of pricy spirits. If one looks through the menu up to the end, one may find that condoms go after cigarettes.

In whole, if you look through a window at empty streets for quite a time, you may think the town survived a zombie or sarin attack.

“It is so dull here, that’s why I take up one project after another,”

Food is ok. In the past, volunteers brought food from Ireland. It was fostered by nonstop flight from Dublin and distrust to local cuisine.

We continue studying the town after the dinner. We are shown the new square. The monument to Lenin was moved to some corner from the very centre. Natallia leaves us and Vivien tells the ‘tale of an Irish fairy and Belarusian alcoholics.’

The kids in the centre come from not the best families. They are usually unparented or single-parent families.

During their free time volunteers make rounds and offer targeted help to the families.

Vivien tells of several cases when they helped not the children but their parents. Sometimes it was effective, sometimes not.

We asked Vivien why she did not help Irish children.

“They don’t face such problems. The system works well. I needed here more. If I return to Ireland, I might work with homeless people, I think.”

But the time of her return is unclear: the local project is almost over and she has to decide where to move next. It is very probable to be Africa. Natallia and Mikalaj will surely go together with her.

photo by palasatka

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