More Ukraine

July 3rd, 2006

On Sunday morning, I attended Mass at the Roman Catholic Cathedral, together with the doctoral student whom I met, and who was also staying with us. I got to know him a bit better, and found out that he is actually a history teacher in a middle school in Silesia. Though he does not like to come to Lwów for reasons of personal hygiene (!), he had to come to work in the city archives. We had much to talk about, as it turned out, because he is a deep Polish patriot, and we shared many common experiences about the city, where the Polish soul and Polish culture had left an almost indelible mark.
After we attended Mass, we went to visit what is probably one of the most famous Polish cemeteries—the “Cmentarz Orląt,” or the “Polish Eagles’ Cemetery.” This historic cemetery is located in the back parcel of the Łykaczów Cemetery, an place known for the graves of the Zamoyski family, one of the most famous Polish noble families, Maria Konopnicka, the nineteenth century Polish writer, Stefan Banach, the Polish mathematician, and “Ordon,” the military hero whom Adam Mickiewicz writes about.
It was at this cemetery that I learned a little about the state of Polish-Ukrainian relations. I was shocked to enter this pre-dominantly Polish cemetery (all of the graves before 1939 are Polish), and yet, I found not one single sign in Polish. All of the signs are in Ukrainian, and not a single one points out the direction towards the “Orląt” cemetery, which is the reason why many Poles come to visit the place. Upon entering, one can only find a sign that directs people to the cemetery for the fallen Ukrainian heroes who fought for Ukrainian independence. The most famous Polish graves, in every case, are hidden by the tactical location of Ukrainian graves, which usually stand in front of them, or make the Polish tombs hard to access. Strolling up the hill and through the woods, we finally reached the Polish “Orląt” cemetery. I was struck by the size of it—later I found out that it contains over 2,500 graves. The graves mark the resting places of the Polish children, teenagers, and students who were killed during the civil war which broke out after the First World War. The Bolsheviks and partisan Ukrainians wanted to spread the revolution in this city, while the Polish civilians and military officers fought for its independence. The reality of what had happened struck me upon finding the grave of a ten year old boy, whose grave it well taken care of by an 80 year old woman, who comes to leaves flowers and light a candle regularly. In the chapel, located at the top of the sweeping and expansive neo-classical catacombs and stairs, I found a small picture display of the cemetery from the 1970’s. Built in the 1920’s, the cemetery lasted through both World Wars, only to be deliberately destroyed by the local communists and people sympathetic to them, who pulled down the colonnade and chiseled off the angels from the walls near the catacombs, simply because it was Polish. The catacombs were turned into a stonecutter’s shop, which produced Ukrainian tombstones for the locals. The graves grew over with trees, bushes, and were often deliberately destroyed. Only in the 1970’s did the local Polish population, small though strong, begin to care for the heritage and the history of the cemetery. Only in 1989 did the “changes” allow for a full cleaning and rebuilding of the cemetery. However, much anti-Polish sentiment still remains, and political reasons make it impossible to rebuild the entire colonnade at this point. The cemetery was, however, officially re-dedicated last year, with the Polish president taking part in the ceremonies. Each year, the two local Metropolitan Archbishops (Roman and Ukrainian rite) hold a day of reconciliation and unity in prayer there, to pray for an end to sectarian hatred and nationalistic ideologies.
These ideologies seem to be deep-seeded, however. Just beyond the wall of the Polish cemetery, stands a large Ukrainian monument, dedicated to the “national heroes of Ukraine” (from what I could gather, the Ukrainians who were killed by the Poles who lie across the wall). The cemetery that is in the process of being built next to the monument seems to be a deliberate anti-Polish statement, and it is quite sad to see such official animosity existing between the two cultures, even though it is mostly one-sided. The aging Polish population has to suffer much, yet courageously and bravely endures all of the anti-Polish, pro-Ukrainian policies.
After visiting the cemetery, my new friend led me to a nice, cheap, and clean restaurant that he had found, called “Puzata Hata,” or “fat house.” It was wonderful, because the food was good (an assortment of local Ukrainian specialties), the prices were Ukrainian ($4 for a full dinner), and the atmosphere was clean and pleasant. Perhaps that is why I ended up eating there three more times…
Now, it was time to head out to the airport—more on that later!