First day of spring, but no one is thinking about that. We arrived in Lazarevka last night. On our way out of Kiev, the central traffic police station was empty: not one policeman, not one car, the windows dark. And only ten days ago, there were dozens of men toting machine guns, stopping every minibus and van to check their luggage.
The era of checkpoints is over. Yanukovych gave a press conference yesterday in Rostov-on-Don. And the whole of Russia, as well as the whole of Ukraine, listened to the presidential reject’s incoherent speech, a speech in which this narrow-minded man showed everyone the true scope of his mediocrity by making insane declarations such as: ‘Ukraine is our strategic partner.’ I think they didn’t let him go to Moscow because they didn’t want to have to bother with a disinfection afterwards. Of course his presence in Russia stains Putin, but he doesn’t care about that. What matters is that, having affirmed the legitimacy of ‘President’ Yanukovych, he can seize Crimea – which, in all but name, he already has.
Thankfully the Ukrainian authorities did not give any order for a military riposte. A silent but brutal occupation, with the whole world watching. Sergey Lavrov and the others say: ‘What occupation? What aggression?’ while Putin states that he has wanted to send the troops in for a long time. Well, now he has sent them, in violation of international law.
What will happen now? The Crimean Tatars do not recognise Sergey Aksyonov’s government of the autonomous republic of Crimea, as it was elected without a quorum, in an occupied Parliament, with unidentified men in uniforms pointing machine guns at them.
Today, the government district of Simferopol is encircled and the streets are filled with soldiers armed with assault rifles and machine guns. It is 10.20 a.m. and the television news has just announced that telephone communication has been re-established with Crimea. But all the military airports in Crimea are occupied.
Liza reacted without surprise to the appearance of satellite television in our country house. I explained that I had bought it because we may all have to leave the village if the situation becomes increasingly serious and dangerous. The calm and orderliness in Kiev are false. People everywhere suddenly have guns. Thieves and robbers are returning.
I went to the village post office, thinking of buying some khrenovukha – vodka with horseradish. I still find it strange that alcohol is sold in rural post offices; this never happens in Kiev. But this time they didn’t have any. All the other products you usually find there were on the shelves: sunflower oil, tins of fish, buckwheat kasha, margarine … But I felt like buying a bottle of vodka and a stamp, so I could stick the stamp directly to the label and give it to someone as a souvenir …
What if Ukraine became civilised overnight and alcohol was no longer sold in country post offices? I don’t believe that will happen! Something of the past must remain. Although, the less that remains, the better off we will be.
We went, without the children, to drink tea at Lyuda and Andrey Maystruk’s house. They were watching the session of the Russian Federation Council on television. The council voted unanimously to send troops into Ukrainian territory! Liza was almost in tears. My morale is now as low as the Mariana Trench. I asked Lyuda and Andrey to change the channel or switch off the TV.
‘We should pass a hat around Ukraine and collect enough money to liberate us from Putin!’ Andrey suggested. Good idea. But he doesn’t just need money. He wants everything. That is why he won’t stop at Ukraine.