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As some of you have noticed, the final page of the February issue was published with glaring errors. While it is our practice to edit and proofread the galleys for each issue before and after completing the layout, the best laid plans sometimes go awry. In this case, while the normal procedure was followed, an unedited galley sheet was inadvertently sent to the printer at press time. I regret the careless error and I especially regret that Martha Bohachevsky Chomiak's article was so unfortunately mistreated. In a belated attempt to rectify the situation, the editorial board has decided to reprint the article in its entirety, edited as it should have been when the article was originally published. I apologize to Ms. Chomiak and to our readers and trust that both will forgive what was an unintentional flaw in the editorial process. Tamara Stadnychenko, English language editor. WINTER LETTER FROM KYIV MARTHA BOHACHEVSKY CHOMIAK As I write this, on January 14, Ukraine is celebrating the New Year. It is less than the major celebration on Christmas, but nevertheless important. Not only is it the feast day of St. Basil, but the time when little boys sprinkle wheat in your home to insure a good harvest. The little boy with the wheat must be the first to step over your threshold this morning, otherwise your grain yield will be poor. The final triad of the holy days will come in a few days — Epiphany on the Jordan. The polluted waters of the Dnipro River will be solemnly blessed by the clergy of the three competing Orthodox churches and by the Ukrainian Catholic Church. The Roman Catholic Church, which celebrates the Vatican II mass in a variety of locally spoken languages, including English, has already had its Epiphany. This was the season for Liturgical music, especially choral ensembles. All are continuing to experience a renaissance. The first icy part of winter has passed. The days are a bit longer, and every once in a while, the sun peers out. This season, Kyivan ladies are especially partial to long fur coats over fashionable minis or midis. They are, as always, elegant, and the make-up is now very discreet. Even the colors of the fur coats are fashionably muted. Lancome, Gucci, Versace, Dolce and Gabbana are readily availble for a hefty sum. People have not been receiving their wages, some for as long as half a year at a time. Many are feeling the pinch, harder to bear now that one can readily see all the things, including dishwashers, that were unheard of in Soviet times. The intelligentsia is especially hard hit, unaccustomed to fending for jobs or grants. But the new stores are flourishing and more wealth is openly evident, including private schools — lycee, gymnazium, koledzh, boarding school. Newspapers are running articles explaining restaurant behaviour and the rights of customers. Real frozen vegetables are available, and in the bazaars, the little ladies sell a creditable local blue cheese. The homeless are not very much in evidence. Strangely, they have not discovered the good Washington tradition of sleeping over grates. They do rummage through the garbage, collecting bottles and cartons. Naturally, they did not do so under the Soviets for two reasons. One, the police patrolled vagrants, real and political, and two, pickings in the garbage were so slim that there was nothing to be had from the venture. One would never have thrown away the cartons, bottles and rubber bands that Kyivans now possess along with shrink- wrapped bread. My seminar at Kyiv Mohyla Academy is on the history of women, or women and history. The first two sessions were fine; we will see how it all develops. There are young men in the class, and that I understand is an innovation, as is the course itself. I continue traipsing around the country with seminar presentations for faculty and administrators who say nice things about them. What with all the interruptions, writing is going slowly. Despite all the natural dsiasters, economic crises, unsolved political issues and endless talk about what to do about them, the country seems to be moving in the right direction. On this happy note, let me wish you as pleasant a February as possible. In lieu of flowers, a donation of $15.00 is made to the Press Fund of Our Life in memory of Maria Savchak with whom my late wife, Rosalie, worked on the National Board of the UNWLA. Sir Harry Polche, KSG Видання C оюзу Українок A мерики - перевидано в електронному форматі в 2012 році . A рхів C У A - Ню Йорк , Н . Й . C Ш A.
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