Liudmyla Ivanivna thinks the Ukrainian government is trying to kill her.
She points out her kitchen window to the 16 floor apartment building next door. It is in darkness. The elevator doesn’t work. Electric stoves and heaters don’t work. They don’t have any hot water. Still there are signs of life as people move about with candles, flashlights.
“The government doesn’t care about ordinary people,” she says. “It would be better for them if we were all dead.”
Her bitterness is prompted by the widespread power outages, lack of hot water, and other infrastructure problems affecting most of Ukraine this winter. In Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second largest city 40 km from the Russian border, electricity is cut off for up to eight hours a day in some regions, especially at peak periods in the morning and evening, regardless of whether citizens have paid their electrical bills or not. Hot water, which is usually supplied centrally, is cut completely in the suburbs, and some buildings have had even cold water cut except for a few hours a day.
Particularly affected are people in the suburbs who often have electric ovens and stoves, and whose elevators, heaters to supplement the poor central heating system, and other appliances do not function in the crucial breakfast and dinner periods. Even traffic lights do not work in these intervals. And in a country where the only affordable form of entertainment is the television, power outages do little for public morale.
The situation is causing anger and frustration.
“I think it’s irresponsible of our government to do this,” says Alla Tabak, an optical shop owner. “I have two daughters who have to do their homework by candlelight or stay up late to get it done, and they now fall asleep in class because they don’t have enough free time with power.”
Tabak complains that besides her daughters’ education, her business is suffering. “We have no electricity in our stove from 8-10:00, 12-2:00 and 5-7:00. We can’t work at those times. My doctor can’t use her medical instruments, and my optician can’t make glasses. Everybody I know is angry.”
“Only here,” was the sole comment of a taxi driver, waiting for his turn to pass through an intersection made chaotic by the lack of traffic signals.
But no one seems to agree on why the outages are occurring. Some blame the Russians, saying that Ukraine is being punished for the debt they are unable to pay, others say that it is because the electric companies are run by the Mafia, who are taking advantage of ordinary people. Still others say that the electrical generators are old, that the main culprits are the few functioning industries which have not paid their bills, and some say that Kyiv is simply saving money by cutting electricity in Ukraine’s smaller cities.
Sam Smith, a British man teaching English in Kharkiv has a more elaborate theory. He sees the situation as a wave spreading across the country, and compares the escalating discomfort in Kharkiv to the worsening conditions in the Crimea. “Last year it was okay here,” he said. This year it’s not too bad, but if it gets as bad as in the Crimea where they have up to ten hours without electricity, only two hours of water daily, and no heating or hot water at all, it’s going to be terrible.”
But if the cuts are supposed to economize, how can this be squared with money lost during the workday? In some cases whole factories are without electricity. While the machinery isn’t functioning, employees simply wait, sitting idly. Without fax machines and computers, commercial organizations are paralyzed.
Water is reportedly cut because the spring waters take too much energy and chemicals to purify.
Here in Kharkiv it rankles that Kyiv citizens are apparently not experiencing such discomfort. “Kyiv is like a different country,” says one man. “Soon we will need a visa to go there.”
Liudmyla Ivanivna points to the countries of the former Yugoslavia. “There was a war there, but they still have power and water,” she says. “We have no war, but they don’t let us live like normal people.”
But although there have been a few protests on the city’s central squares, it is largely elderly men nostalgic for earlier days who participate. Young people deny that protests are an effective way to change their life, and even pensioners like Liudmyla Ivanivna are convinced that the government is not listening.
Currently most buildings in the city center are not affected, although during the pre-Christmas cuts, they were. Most people who live downtown claim their fortune is due to a Mafia boss living in the neighborhood, a tax inspection office around the corner, proximity to streetcar lines, or a neighborhood hospital or sauna, which are usually not cut.
But even these fortunate few are worried. “I’m afraid all the time that it’s going to happen to us tomorrow, “ commented one lady.
People begin to take their discomfort as a personal affront.
Another English teacher, Toni Sloan, described how she woke up one morning, and after heating a pot of water on the stove for several hours, she was washing her hair over the bathtub when the electricity suddenly went out. She thought to herself, “Leave me alone.” She’s planning to leave Ukraine in May.
One of her students who is now applying for emigration with his family made the final decision when his wife woke up one morning to find they had no electricity and no water, and said, “Get me out of here.” They’re hoping this was their last winter in Ukraine.
Not everyone is so hopeful.
