In Ukraine, Easter is the biggest holiday of the year, for many families. Easter is three days long in Ukraine, although the biggest day is still Easter Sunday. The holiday starts on Saturday night. Everyone attends Church for a candle-lit ceremony through the night. In addition, all the church-goers bring their Easter baskets to be blessed. Inside are all the painted eggs (pysanky), sausage, and Easter Paska break (like coffee cake). This way, when the fast is broken after the church ceremony all the food can be considered holy.

If you sleep at all on Easter it is only for a few hours. In the morning on Sunday, the real celebration begins. There is a huge feast including all the food that was blessed the night before as well as a little vodka, and then a lot more food! The celebrating can continue (as with most holidays in Ukraine) for hours!

Usually Ukrainians spend the first day of Easter with their families, and the second and third paying visits to friends.

Ukrainian Easter in the Kyiv Post

March 9, 2010

Ukraine’s most valuable asset, despite its beautiful countryside and historic buildings, is still its people. And of all those people the best stories are told by and the most history is remembered by the babyca’s. The word babucya (babushka in Russian) literally means “grandmother” but can refer to any older women. The babucyas in Ukraine are the ones who bore the brunt of the hardship at the end of the Second World War and during the Soviet era, which is why most of these women can tell stories that are sure to captivate most anyone.

The babucyas continue to live their lives according to their code of survival; including ensuring that anyone in under their roof is well fed, if not over fed, comfortable, and warm. They always at the ready with a bowl of borsch or a hot cup of tea. They have a solution to everything and are caretakers of Ukraine.

They continue to voice their opinions by taking part voting during elections, volunteering at polling places, simply continuing to work hard and tell their stories, even when the weather might intimidate even the strongest person of a younger generation.

My host mom, or babucya, was a remarkable woman who had retired as the director of the school at which I worked about 5 years before.  She had traveled throughout most of Eastern Europe and always encouraged me to see the world. She took me in as if I was her daughter and made me feel welcome in the community.

My "Babuyca" (left) on her Birthday, August 2009