"Songs of the Underground" festival raises awareness of poverty
by Roman Woronowycz
Kyiv Press Bureau
KYIV - Halyna Lobova sings the "Ave Maria" nearly every day in the underpass beneath the Khreschatyk that connects the two sides of Independence Square. People have become familiar with her soaring soprano, which she has demonstrated at the spot for nearly five years - ever since she became a pensioner. Many of them regularly give her a few coins as they pass by.
Near the Kyiv Conservatory, 14-year-old Ihor Lobok plays his violin several times a week. The wunderkind, who has twice been double-promoted at school and is currently completing the 10th grade, performs on the square before the building on a violin he borrows from the school he attends. He is raising money to buy his own.
Down the road two teenage rockers scream a punk anthem accompanied by a Cone folk guitar. They use the instrument's case to hold donations from passers-by. They say that by playing on the street they can earn a living, however meager, while perfecting their art and attaining public exposure.
These are but a few of Ukraine's poverty-stricken citizens - the ones who still retain initiative and hope. Many more have given up. Today they walk the streets during the day and dig through trash containers, while at night they take illegal refuge in apartment buildings for a few hours of restless sleep. Others find their sanctuary in a bottle and sleep where they drop.
There are few Ukrainian civic organizations that deal with the destitute - perhaps because most Ukrainians, according to Western standards, are themselves considered poverty-stricken. At least one group, however, has decided that someone must bring attention to the plight of the poorest Ukrainians.
The Union of Humanists of Ukraine, an organization of students and journalists, was recently formed with the self-proclaimed aim of helping those in need. One of its first projects, held on February 5, was "Songs of the Underground," a festival of musicians who perform in Kyiv's underground walkways, at Metro entrances and, generally, whereever the public gathers. In return, they receive whatever passers-by offer - mostly coins, but at times also fruits and sweets.
The organization, which underscores that it is a non-profit group not connected to any political organization, scoured Kyiv's streets in preparation for the festival, searching for those who were willing to come in from the cold for a day and perform in a more customary manner. They found 10 such types, including Ms. Lobova and 14-year-old Ihor. For their performances the musicians received monetary stipends courtesy of the financial sponsors of the event.
Valerii Nechyporenko, a 47-year-old journalist who is the group's founder and director, said the reason for the festival was to remind Kyivans that they remain poor compared to the West, no matter what self-perceptions they retain. He said that too many residents have deceived themselves into believing that they are doing sufficiently well, which means that they were demanding too little from themselves, their lives and their politicians.
"We had a study done before the festival and discovered that 55 percent of Kyivans consider themselves middle class. Yet more than 70 percent of Kyiv's residents make no more than 250 hrv a month, which is less than $50," explained Mr. Nechyporenko. "The rationale is that we should not be comparing ourselves to Ethiopia, we should be comparing ourselves to France and Germany."
The capital city is by far the most affluent region of Ukraine. Whereas only 5.8 percent of Kyivans live below the country's official poverty level of 175 hrv ($33) in monthly income, in the Transcarpathian Oblast of Ukraine nearly half are below the poverty line. In the Crimea the number is 38 percent, while in Kyiv Oblast it approaches 20 percent, according to the State Committee on Statistics.
There is also a correlation between the number of kids in a family and the level of poverty it must endure. Government figures show that 29 percent of single-child families are below the poverty level, a number that rises to nearly 40 percent in two-child families, to 47 percent in three-child families and to 64 percent where there are four kids in the family.
In Ukraine, unemployment, lack of education, drug addiction and alcoholism are far from the only contributors to poverty. Government figures show that 78 percent of the country's impoverished come from families in which at least one family member works full-time.
Ihor, slight in stature and reserved in demeanor, comes from just such a family, normal in most every way, except that the father cannot make ends meet with the poor state of the economy and the social transformations taking place. The shy ingénue, who has twice jumped grades because of his scholastic ability, wants his own violin because he is very serious about his playing. He feels no compunction over his manner of gathering money for a new instrument, a notion he affirmed with a quiet shake of his head when asked.
The festival, held at the International Academy of Personnel Management in Kyiv, included statistical presentations and discussions on how to alleviate poverty and change the social mindset, as well as performances by 10 street musicians and ensembles.
An associated issue addressed by attendees was the increasingly harsh manner in which law enforcement officials have recently begun to deal with beggars. Mr. Nechyporenko said he sensed a return to Soviet times.
"Lately the militia has begun banning street musicians, as it was earlier. Even during the Gorbachev era it was allowed," explained Mr. Nechyporenko.
Yet, today those who have something they can offer passers-by in return for the few kopiiky thrown into their metal cups can at least retain their dignity. Others can offer little more than a dirty, feeble hand held out in need.
Most of them are pensioners, someone's grandmother whose government subsidy does not stretch to the end of the month - forcing her to ask for money, while able to offer only God's blessing, a bowed head and the sign of the cross in return. There are those in even worse shape, however; those who hang cardboard signs across their chest asking for money to help pay the medical expenses - or the funeral - of a spouse or child.
At many intersections away from the city center, one-legged and legless middle-aged men, limbs lost to the Afghanistan War, factory accidents or diabetes, stand on crutches or sit in crude wheelchairs and approach cars to ask for money. Abandoned by hope, many of them are wracked by alcoholism as well. Often they are joined by Roma (Gypsy) women in tattered clothes, who thrust dirty palms into vehicles, while holding their disheveled children on the other arm.
Most Ukrainians, who feel the sting in their own pockets, cannot and do not offer a coin. Too often it is simply too difficult even to turn toward the beggar to recognize his existence. Yet the poor do exist, and in large numbers, and they must be given compassion and aid, according to Mr. Nechyporenko.
"We must constantly remind our people that they have to raise themselves from poverty. If we concern ourselves with the ways we can solve this problem, we will find a way out," explained the ever-upbeat journalist.
"We have lived through a system that collected and then divided up everything we had. We have lived through wild, out- of-control capitalism. Now we need to find the third way - the humane way," he emphasizes.
Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, March 30, 2003, No. 13, Vol. LXXI
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