Growing Up in Ukraine

I said so many times in my recipes “growing up in Ukraine” in the last 4 years, I feel like I have to demystify what we actually did growing up in Ukraine. I also hope this story will let you to get to know me better since you serve my food in your homes. And you gotta know where your food comes from.

I do not think anyone here knows me really well or at all. Blogging is very weird. It makes you vulnerable. This post is really outside of my comfort zone because it is personal. Very personal. I edited the post about 673 times. I share a personal view and so many times it is misunderstood. Internet is a place where some people suddenly feel “brave” and it is very easy to be mean. Similar to someone showing you a middle finger on a road, you approach them on a parking lot and they are ready to pee their pants. People don’t own it! I know my opinion is quite different from the masses simply because I am from a different part of the world. But we are all different with different life experiences which shape us into who we are.

It was impossible to collect photos without people in them because camera and film were scarce. Nobody took photos of food or rooms. So, that is why people everywhere but you might have a good chuckle looking at them because I surely did, even though they are my family. A family I never had…

Growing Up in Ukraine

Well at some point I did. My parents divorced when I was 6 or 7. But things have never been going well in that department. Mom always says she should have never married my dad as she never loved him. Grandma suggested to marry him since he seemed like a great guy. Mom was a single mom which was viewed as “a disease”. So, mom did. Long story short, the only good thing that came out of it was a child – me. My half sister hated my dad and was never crazy about me, mom hated my dad, they got divorced. I saw him maybe 10 times after that.

That divorce left a huge scar on me. It was so ugly, I was so lost between all their fights and hate talk in my ears from both sides. I had nobody to talk to about it, everyone around was mad and my life went downhill since then until I met Alex pretty much. I would never feel normal because I never got to experience what family is as a kid. That is why I would never get a divorce. I know they say “never say never” but I am going to be confident and say it out loud – “I would never divorce my husband”. I would always make my marriage work because I have a great guy, Alex, and we have little things we bicker about but they are little. I ended up with Alex not by accident but by a careful choice I made as a result of my childhood experience. Of course, I dated jerks. Who didn’t, right?! But I always knew I would never marry any of them and when I met Alex I knew right away this is THE guy. 15 years later and I still feel the same although he drives me nuts sometimes! But I never feel like I want to kill him, so means the choice was right.

Growing Up in Ukraine

Ukrainian strollers of the 80’s were Cadillacs. I have to say that everything you see here was made in limited quantities in former USSR. It was communism.  All republics – Ukraine, Russia, Belorussia, Moldova, Georgia etc. were supplied by the same manufacturers. Like everything from toilet paper (btw which we stopped buying after divorce and used newspaper) to winter coats was made by same manufacturer. No imports were allowed. You go to your friend’s house and drink tea from exactly the same cups you drink at home. At school 5 girls could show up with same backpacks and in fact it was considered cool. All professors carried exactly the same suitcases.

So, it was hard to find anything, even if you had money, stores carried limited amount of everything. This phenomenon was called “deficit”. People were paid very little but they didn’t know anything better and everyone was equal. There was no keeping up with Joneses. Life was much easier, in a way. Less stress – no mortgage payments, no leased cars, no bazillion closets of stuff, no avocado peelers and no avocados by the way.

That is why I think Charmin toilet paper is too much, wash Ziplock bags and use same patio set for 12 years. I hate waste!

Growing Up in Ukraine

Meet Ukrainian cereal – oatmeal, rice pudding or cream of wheat (that is what is all over my face). Then we also made kind of runny cereal – cooked hot buckwheat or noodles with milk, sugar and butter. Another breakfast option were eggs, pan fried potatoes in bacon’s fat (Ukrainian salo – very tasty). Some people ate leftover borscht. Some with a shot of vodka, at 6 am, before work. Yep. All food was reheated on a gas stove, no microwaves. That is how I operate now too.

I was wearing this one and only bib I had for years passed onto me from someone else I bet – plastic with little duckies. My cousin had the same. Mom would wash it every time.

Growing Up in Ukraine

In the evenings and on weekends, me and my cousin were the main entertainment. No TV, iPads or magazines. Are you kidding?! Newspaper in the morning had a lineup of readers and God forbid to misplace it. My grandma would be losing it on my uncle if he did. We would put on a show dancing in cotton tights. Our 60’s TV offered 3 channels and you had to use pliers to switch between channels. Not to mention it was 8 of us per one TV.

That is my great grandma and aunt in the background. I love looking at these old photos examining the furnishings, people, clothes, faces and comparing to today. How times change, right?! Rugs on walls, everything real wood, silk and wool.

Today, I can’t stand TV on every night. I fight about it with Alex all the time. There are so many other things to do in life besides TV. I also take iPads away for months after kids abuse my kindness.

Growing Up in Ukraine

I occasionally went to daycare. It was a huge building like school size subsidized by the government with 30 kids and 2 caregivers per group. I hated it. No wonder. Who would wanna go there?! I was the shortest, food was disgusting (think liver patties with mashed split peas) and nobody cared about you, really.

The only good part were New Year’s concerts. Every year there was a different theme and mom had to make me a costume. Hand made from scratch. There was no China or Walmart. Isn’t it amazing what she made?! My costumes were always the best. No wonder I do not enjoy my kids’ concerts – I think they show barely any creativity.

Growing Up in Ukraine

We also got our one and only yearly supply of candies and chocolates from Santa. Like that was it, people. You get occasional candy throughout the year if there was a birthday party in the family or someone came to visit. Candies were either non-existent in stores or expensive. No wonder kids were healthy!!! There was no obesity!

If you got a sudden sugar craving a staple Soviet treat was a slice of fresh baguette, with butter and sugar. Considering you had a baguette on hand because we had to buy bread daily. Bread was real so it wouldn’t keep fresh long and we ate a lot of bread. Usually it was kids’ job to go buy bread delivered by the bread truck. You had to time it and get your spot in line because bread was gone fast (similar to Xbox release lineup). That smell OMG. I swear 50% of the time by the time me and my friends got home bread was missing its ends. It made my grandma livid LOL. Or if I was sent to get butter, which was sold in bulk, placed in your plastic bag which grandma washed at home without any soap, and I got a bit sidetracked on the way home catching butterflies with friends, OMG grandma’s forehead vein was throbbing. I’m telling you, the discipline we had. I have no issues making my kids liking my food.

My mom also made a concoction of whipped egg yolks with sugar. Add those 2 in a tall mug and whip with a spoon until smooth and fluffy. Salmonella? Mixer? What are they?!

Growing Up in Ukraine

Then was school. Entire USSR wore the same school uniform as you see on me. Girls were wearing nylon hair bow ties. School uniform was brown or navy, with these white trims that had to be hand washed and sewn on with a needle and thread a few times a week. And there was no washers or dryers. By hand and out in the air. Can you imagine?! Crazy.

I missed 1st grade for a reason mom can’t remember. I think it was the divorce. I started school in grade 2 and turned out more than fine academically. We had no kindergarten, pre-K or preschool BUT our curriculum and education system was very strong. Math skills I had by age 9 compared to my son’s are day and night. And he is always an A student although there are no grades anymore here…

Growing Up in Ukraine

Now these are funny vacation photos. Every summer all parents tried to go on vacation “to the seas” as they said. All trips were subsidized by the government and lasted 2-3 weeks. Resorts were far away from fancy, most with a common area bathroom and just OK food. But they were almost free.

Nobody owned a camera back then, like very few better off folks. Probably professors and engineers. So, there were photographers on a beach taking photos…with various animals. I guess that was cool.

Growing Up in Ukraine

Alex is still laughing about me sitting on a donkey. He is 12 years older than me, so he was serving in the Russian army while I was riding donkeys and camels on the beach. Well, somebody had to do that too.

Growing Up in Ukraine

This is the photo from my 10th birthday party. The only birthday party I had, for many reasons. Money, living conditions, our family situation, my mom’s health…I still remember grandma cooking for me, sewing the dress and inviting all neighbours kids.

Growing Up in Ukraine

This is the house I lived in majority of my childhood. A 4 bedroom apartment we shared  between 3 families. We lost our apartment in divorce so had to move in with grandma and 2 other families. I know it is hard to understand how you could share apartment but people did. By law, the communist law. Shared kitchen and bathroom, and then bedrooms. The building was built in 1920s with huge ceilings and even a small backyard.

First window on the left from the entrance door was my mom’s, grandma’s and my room. We would leave window open at night and sometimes street cats would jump in at night. More often than not running away from hungry street dogs…Living conditions were rough though. 10 people rubbing shoulders in same space for years…Since then I like to be home alone.

Growing Up in Ukraine

Many Ukrainian schools were old architectural buildings. Something very uncommon for North America, right?! There is so much history in Europe which I still miss dearly. I don’t miss fox fur coats though. The girl in the fur coat is one of my best friends I now talk to on Facebook.The girl next to her ended up marrying my first boyfriend from that school.

Growing Up in Ukraine

As rich our architecture was, as poor and bare the classrooms were. We really had nothing. Desks, bookshelves, plants and curtains. And the most hard working and devoted teachers I have ever seen. When my son’s teachers went on strike a few years ago claiming they buy school’s supplies with their own money I couldn’t understand…I still don’t. To me education is not about things but rather passing on knowledge. And you do not need more than a pen, some paper, a few good textbooks and a passionate teacher for that.

Growing Up in Ukraine

While my mom’s family was living in a big city, Kiev, and everyone was a professor or a doctor, my dad was from a remote area in Moldova. Mom met him while he was studying in Kiev. This is my grandma’s house we visited occasionally in summer. There was a gravel road in front and this water well with the most delicious water ever. There was no running water or bathroom in the house in villages back then. I think people still live that way.

This was also the house we escaped to from the Chernobyl disaster (as bad as only Fukushima) back in 1986. I was 4 but distantly remember the chaos in Kiev. People were running away like crazy, mostly women with kids. Jumping onto already moving trains who cares going where, just to run away. It was like a war situation. You couldn’t get train tickets anywhere but my dad managed to. Connections was everything back then. Back doors. We stuffed ourselves on a train full of sweaty people and suitcases, sitting up all night running away from radiation to Moldova. It was a nightmare. And we showed up on grandma’s doorstep unannounced because there was no phone in that village of course.

Growing Up in Ukraine

I also found this house in my dad’s pictures. I bet he lived in it at some point.

Growing Up in Ukraine

Don’t you just love old pictures?! I love looking at details – clothes, hair, jewelry. My grandma holding a handkerchief, her sister holding a tree branch. Look at the floor with hay.

Growing Up in Ukraine

This is some of my family in Siberia. I can tell judging by the ceiling and my dad’s stories. It reads in Russian “For my family to remember”, something like that. It is so hard to translate things like that.

Growing Up in Ukraine

And this is my great grandpa visiting Canada back in late 1800’s or early 1900’s. That is what my dad told me. I wonder how did he get to Canada back then? I guess Canada was meant to be for me.

Growing Up in Ukraine
Growing Up in Ukraine

I don’t think I miss much about life back then except the social life. I love how people were out there outside, talking and visiting each other, getting together, helping. This is a photo from a traditional wedding in Moldova. Eating, dancing and drinking of course. A lot of wine was made in Moldova because of its warm climate. And a lot of moonshine too. The very right man the closest in the picture is my grandpa, obviously having fun.

I find life in North America very secluded and socially poor. People avoid communication and everyone is on their own. Yes, there are a lot of charities (many useless by the way) but you are on your own on a day to day basis. However, if big disaster strikes people are willing to help, I admit. But daily nobody honestly cares what is happening in a neighbour’s house. On a very surface level.

Growing Up in Ukraine

I love this photo of my uncle! Life was so simple. People were so pure. Something between naive and innocent. Like I can’t imagine Alex holding to a tree branch posing for a photo right now. You know what I mean?!

Growing Up in Ukraine

100 years later those moustaches are baaaaaack LOL.

Growing Up in Ukraine

This is a photo of my dad in the army (second right). Somewhere in Russia. Alex has a bunch of same photos. Soviet Union army was a nightmare Alex says. Up at 6 AM, push ups as punishment, catching doves for meat. No wonder there is no food waste in my house.

Again I love the architecture. Those fountains…I can’t wait to travel all around Europe!!!

Growing Up in Ukraine

When I said we used to pick mushrooms, I meant it.Growing Up in Ukraine

And we celebrated birthdays. OMG my hair. I think I did that haircut myself because I had no money. I love this photo – again table loads of Ukrainian food, wine, weird wall paper.

Growing Up in Ukraine

And this is the last and most dearest photo to me – me and all my girlfriends saying good byes 2 days before we left to Canada. October 16th, 2000 me and mom flew to Edmonton via Amsterdam and Vancouver. I will never forget my first flight at 19. $10 MacDonald’s burger in Amsterdam’s airport which me and mom shared – $100 was all she had. Me nervously having a smoke in Vancouver’s airport thinking “OMG what has happened to me”. My immigration story is for another day.
I found so much happiness, peace and comfort in North America for which I will be grateful forever. I feel like I have won the lottery because very few people get to escape Ukraine and many wish they could. But I can’t deny there is me “before” and “after”, I will never feel Canadian and make friends easily. Can’t have everything in life, can you?! But at same time you can take the best out of it and be happy every single day you are healthy and alive.

This is my story and I am grateful I have one, no matter which turn it took. Did you make it till the end LOL?!

Have a great weekend, my friends! Life is beautiful!

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About Olena

Welcome! I grew up in Ukraine watching my grandma cook with simple ingredients. I have spent the last 11 years making it my mission to help you cook quick and easy meals for your family!

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Comments

  1. I love your story Olena, I’m so happy for you that you found your passion and live your life so bravely following your dreams and taking risks. True role model. We miss you here in Calgary, but Vancouver is clearly the best place for you!!! Xoxo best wishes always.

  2. I grew up in the 1950–no air conditioners.
    I’d be outside all day and so would the neighbors.
    Putting laundry on the line, tending gardens or getting after kids.
    But as for have friends we all have to work on it.
    Even if you move across countries or states or cities it’s hard to build a band of or just one friend.
    I’ve found friends in book clubs and recipe clubs.
    Hope you find your circle of friends.

    1. Moving from New York to LA and moving from the US to China for example are two different things. You will be surprised how few people would be open to understanding and building a relationship with you when you are not one of them. When they have enough of their own around them that they have to put barely any effort into. The main difference is the cultural differences. What we do, how we say things etc. For example, if I invite myself over for coffee to your house you might consider it borderline offensive where as me and my Italian friend consider it is a norm because that is how we grew up in Europe. It is the fact. That is why immigrants usually stick together in communities.

      1. I agree with you totally. I was born and grew up in France with a french father and a wonderful Ukrainian mother this is why I was drawn to your blog even more after your story. I am living in Australia and like in Canada all immigrants stick together and I would not dare invite myself for coffee in an Australian house but I do it with my spanish,french , italian etc… friends. It is the norm in Europe as you said. I love all our recipes I am so glad I have found you.

        1. Hi Christiane. I am so glad you have discovered my blog. When we first moved into our house, one night I discovered my Italian neighbour drinking wine with my husband on a couch at 5PM. She invited herself over and I am sure my husband offered wine LOL. Since then we have been very good friends and now got even closer. We share food, go to each other house for missing ingredients and come over for coffee and wine with a knock on a door. She is moving 3 minutes away from me now which is still OK but I will miss her a lot. I guess what I miss the most is not making individual friends but rather the social life we had in Europe – lots of people on streets, interacting, getting together. People wanted to be with each other. Canadians and Americans are great people with great heart but the culture is more to themselves. More introverted. Friendships are more structured by interests like chicken wings pub lovers, bikers, book club, yoga, gym etc. Dinners and dates have to be scheduled months in advance and it has to be an occasion. Which I respect since nobody asked me to move here, so I understand I got to play by this country’s rules. I get it, I just miss what I had in Ukraine – people! The more the merrier haha. I also really do not appreciate and want to do nothing with immigrants who move here and judge and badmouth everything here. Then go home or adjust. I have met a lot of those and it is one of the reasons why we are not close to Russian or Ukrainian community. Plus where we live we have very few of them.

  3. I love this post, and I am so glad you finally wrote it! Your stories about the Ukraine are what really drew me to your blog– but then our similar eating and cooking styles is why I have continued to follow it!

    I also love hearing your perspective– I am from America, but have lived in Asia for most of my 20s and 30s, so I am an outsider with a different opinion and worldview on the other side of the world from you 🙂 It never felt so important until this past year when my husband and I had a child– and boy does that change who you are in such a major way.

    These photos are amazing! You have always been such a beautiful woman.

    1. Kids are a life changer that is impossible to explain until you go through it yourself. Everything in life gets a different meaning. You know.
      You should write how it is to be an American living in Asia. I always love to read those posts! They are funny haha.
      Thank you for your kind words.
      Are you guys planning on coming back permanently soon?

  4. Thank you so much for your vulnerability in sharing your story! I loved this post and found it so, so interesting. I especially loved hearing about the values you’ve taken into adulthood based on your experiences growing up; as an ESL teacher I have so much respect for immigrant communities and families and all of the hard work they put into uprooting their lives and adjusting to so much newness around them. I would love a follow-up post on what your first months and years in Canada were like. Thank you again!

    1. Hi Liz. I didn’t know you read my blog.:) Thank you for your kind words. I will write an immigration post for sure! I really enjoyed writing this post.
      Today my neighbour introduced her 11 year old niece that moved with her family from India and arrived just yesterday. It was very interesting talking and watching new immigrants. I love interacting with people with different backgrounds. You have a very important job! You do a lot of good for us. I had great English when I immigrated so was able to work and go to university right away but so many people don’t. ESL for adults is everything so they can go study or get education thus feed their families.
      Hope your little ones are doing well. I checked your blog a few months ago and hit a feeling you must be busy haha.

  5. Olena! Thank you so much for opening your heart and sharing your life with us!! You have a lot of courage. Remember you are not alone, I am a phone call away. Another mom trudging along like you, trying to do the best for my children and not kill my husband LOL! I will give you a big hug the next time I see you!! Hugs.
    Karen (a fellow immigrant from England)

    1. Awe. Thank you, Karen. You will see me very soon, at the rink. Where else haha?! We should hang out more without kids.

  6. Thanks for sharing your story! I love learning about other cultures, it’s so interesting. I live in the Midwest USA, born and raised. We were poor growing up, too, my parents are farmers. It teaches you to appreciate what you have. Kids are growing up in a totally different atmosphere now because we live in such a throw away society, it’s too bad. It makes me glad I grew up when I did. Thanks again for getting so personal, I know it’s hard!

    1. Me too. I love learning how was Canada and the US in the 60s. Like what did people eat and wear? How did they look? It is fascinating. I love looking at food back then like groceries I mean.
      I know. Kids have no value of money and things. I remember grandma chuckling at my generation how different we are. Haha can’t imagine what she would have said about today’s kids. I am too happy to have grown without all this technology. Drives me nuts. It makes kids literally stupid. Ugh. I hate it. Rant over.

  7. My family immigrated to USA in 1994. I remember all those lines to get bread and milk, school uniforms…true friends…Story of my life! Great post, Olena! I enjoyed reading it!!!!

    1. Well, we touched based a few of those points over coffee already.:) Good organic coffee btw. Have a great weekend, dear!

  8. Oh wow, these photos and stories are incredible. Thank you for sharing! I love reading your blog because of your voice (and great recipes of course) and this gives such a cool context.

    1. Glad to hear. I would love to share my immigration story. Just need to find some photos. There weren’t many. I was too busy haha.

  9. I love these kinds of stories, it shines a light on a perspective that is (literally) so foreign for many of us in Canada. My dad is an immigrant from Venezuela and my mom is the child of Latvian immigrants and even then their childhood seems so removed from my own. I admire the tenacity and spirit of immigrants, it takes a lot of courage to uproot yourself and to move to a new country.
    Thank you for sharing your story 🙂

    1. Well said. Immigrants have this drive to succeed because they had nothing. That is why they immigrated in a first place – for better life. So it better be their worthwhile the sacrifice they made. My kids are very different from me because they were born here. They are a hybrid between locals and immigrants haha. I work hard to develop competitive spirit in them to be your best. That is why we do hockey – discipline, team spirit, competitiveness. And I can see great results. Work hard, play hard. There are so many opportunities in North America to have a good life. It is all up to you. Money is not everything but a big part of good life. You just have to go for it!
      Latvia was a republic in former USSR by the way.

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