I am curious – how is it there, in the Arctic? I discovered a few things about the Arctic and the North Pole this week i had no idea about!:
North Pole turns out to be actually pretty warm. About 30oC (60o F) warmer than the South Pole. Average summer temperatures are around 0oC (32oF), highest temperature ever registered was around 12oC (54oF). I thought if i was crazy enough to look for the top of the Earth, it’s would be an icy landing strip… But maybe I should take my swimsuit instead.
I should definitely try the local food (seal?) and get one of those super warm native made winter boots (mukluks)!
The trip to Alert is actually pretty mountainous. Yes, i did learn in my Pilot Ground School that BC and the North East of Canada had the most special (hazardous) considerations for obstacle clearance. I thought it was significantly so due to the cold temperatures. But it’s actually cold AND actually big mountains – together! Clearly, an engine failure would not be fun there. Which brings me to the #4.
There’s nobody out there en route! Hundreds of miles of not even a soul. Unless Polar Bears have souls. I still have not figured out the best caliber for self defense. Which brings me to #5
Polar Bears! Cute on pictures, they are actually much bigger than the feared grizzlys. And they are the only type of bears that would actually track and hunt people for food!
There are no good aviation maps for the area. Maps, for that matter. I never paid attention to it, but most paper products I ever worked with either have the North chopped in pieces or have small provinces competing in size with Africa. A globe helped, but there’s really only that much space in my SuperD en route.
North Pole is not even on the ForeFlight! ForeFlight is awesome, and it has helped me tremendously in many trips for years. But the moment you step outside the Northern tip of Canada, you might as well have assumed the Earth is flat and you have fallen off the end of it. How do you put “North Pole” in your GPS ?
Seriously??!
And yet i can’t wait to see even the smallest glimpse of this beauty. Peak around the corner and get my breath taken away by the magestic views.
LIFE DOES NOT COUNT IN BREATHS WE TAKE. LIFE COUNTS IN MOMENTS THAT TAKE OUR BREATH AWAY.
The #ArcticTour150 is a unique air show event. In fact, it is a sequence of almost 100 events – 97 air shows across Canada’s Arctic to be precise (yes, it’s not a typo – NINETY SEVEN AIR SHOWS!). What’s more important – the Tour will bring the cutting edge of precision aerobatic flying to areas that have only known aviation as a means of survival, not entertainment. EVERYBODY will have a chance to join Canada’s birthday!
In addition to the air shows, this tour offers a large educational component. Many locations along the more than 19,000 miles route are aboriginal communities. Using attention generated through the tour, we hope to educate the rest of Canada about the life, culture and struggles of our indigenous communities, and share their unique experiences. I believe the native culture is rich, fascinating and not known enough. From the art, to the music and food – we will share with you as much as we can through social media as the journey progresses.
Each community we visit is aware of the tour and are planning events of their own to complement our visit. From a music festival, to arts shows, to village barbecues, our performances will be enhanced by the engagement the community themselves contributing to the event. Even as I write thisI get goose bumps just thinking of the scope of what we are about to do. It is truly EPIC!
Why an aviation tour? Northerners have seen planes before, airplanes are actually an integral part of life in the North-a lifeline for food, medical supplies, transportation and technology. Yet most of them have never seen an air show in their life. Seeing something they know–an airplane–in a totally new upside-down perspective, with amix of technology, skill and hard work, we expect it to be an inspiration. Inspiration to not necessarily become an aerobatic pilot, but to be a better, stronger, smarter and braver version of themselves, the best they can be. We hope that youth in these communities will learn nothing else but themselves will be able to stop them from achieving their dreams. We hope to show them, not just through flying, but through a real connection that the possibilities exist and that hard work pays off. The sky is NOT the limit!
I feel particularly privileged being the only Canadian female aerobatic performer on the tour and I hope to inspire young girls to push the limits and pursue their dreams. Changing stereotypes is not easy, and I pray that there will be enough girls encouraged and empowered by the end of this summer who will in turn, make a difference in their lives. Butterfly effect.
Who is making this epic event a reality? The amazing brains and hearts behind #ArcticTour150 are the organizers of Alberta’s Rocky Mountain House Air Show: Nancy McClure, Wendy Fowler, Ken Fowler, Indira Thackorie and the team. When I signed up for the entire tour a friend of mine asked, “Who are the producers? Have they ever done anything like this before?” The truth is, NOBODY HAS EVER DONE ANYTHING LIKE THIS BEFORE! This is what makes this initiative unique, audacious, inspiring and – yes! – a little crazy.
The #ArcticTour150 requires a lot of support from various companies, sponsors, government and the Canadian military. Everything from flying in fuel (there is not much avgas in the middle of a tundra) to medical support, and funding.
The performers traveling with the Tour form another spectacular team. I feel privileged to perform again with the Granley Family, Bud and Ross. Ken Fowler and Eric Hansen from Team Rocket, Dave and Drew Watson from Yellow Thunder, Brent Handy and Stefan Trischuk are among those who responded to the challenge. Some performers are only able to commit to a part of the Tour. Some, like your faithful Sky Dancer, would not want to miss a single day of it.
Where and when? The Tour takes off on 1 June from Rocky Mountain House, Alberta, and will head north for its long journey across the Yukon, Northwest Territories, Nunavut, Northern Quebec and Labrador. We will celebrate Canada Day, July 1, in the geographical centre of Canada–Baker Lake, NT. One of the most notable aspects is the tour will journey as far north as Alert, NU, the most northern permanently inhabited place in the world, only 400 nautical miles from the North Pole! This tourwill set a world record for the longest series of air shows North of 60. The final show of the Tour will be on18 Augustin Nunavut’s capital, Iqaluit, after which I am sure everyone will be sad to see this great summer adventure come to an end.
The team knows the reality will be harder and less perfect than the plan. We will fight the weather, have cancellations and technical issues. I was even asked if I would have a gun for polar bear defense. Oh my! I do hope to see muskox (I promise to share pictures!) and find a nice pair of mukluks, even though they are too warm for my home in Vancouver.
One question I am asked frequently is, “how can someone join the Tour?” The answer is–in a VERY limited way. Some of our more southern locations like Yellowknife, are reachable by most general aviation planes within a reasonable amount of time and fuel availability (expect to pay a premium for the avgas up North). You should still check with your instructor or more experienced pilots before setting off on such a trip. Often your nearest alternate airport is beyond your fuel range, and survival in case of an engine failure is difficult. Mountain flying and weather are other challenges in many Northern regions. Most locations in the High Arctic don’t even have avgas available. The Canadian Arctic Aviation Tour, benefitting from military support, will have fuel for performers flown in ahead of time. But these supplies will not be available for the public.
The most important question though is “how can I support the tour?” and that answer is simple – buy a mile! As one can imagine this project comes at a significat cost and in order to pull this off we need the support of everyone. Please help us to make this a success by buying a mile on our crowdfunding page: crowdrise.com/caat2017.
We encourage everyone to follow us along our journey by following us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. We want to hear from you!
Aviation brings people together. In 2017, when Canada is celebrating its 150th birthday, aviation unites the country by bringing the technology and inspiration of airshows to the most remote areas of the country – where people have never seen anything like this in their lives. With 97 airshows North of the 60th parallel, EVERYBODY will have a chance to celebrate Canada’s 150. Official website: https://caat2017.com. This is a blog of Anna Serbinenko, the only Canadian female aerobatic performer, embarking on this once-in-a-lifetime journey.
The map is impressive. The schedule is tight and event-packed. We will be flying around the clock, as we will have the benefit of the 24 hour daylight. And the special treat – it will be the record of the most Northern show ever! Alert is only 400nm from the North Pole!
Today, I’m a new competitive athlete, 2 years into the sport of figure skating. Many skaters are retired before their 20th birthday. I’m 36 and I’m writing this on the flight back home from my first international competition, Winter World Masters Games 2020 (WWMG2020) in Innsbruck, Austria.
A couple of years ago, one mundane morning I stepped on my bathroom scale as usual, and it almost started swearing back at me with a new (higher) digit at the end. I was always happy that “I could eat anything I want, and it does not reflect on me”. Well, that time obviously was in the past. Something had to be done. I refused to go shopping for new cloths next size up. I don’t like running. I’m not good at swimming. And gym is boring. Then I remembered that I quite enjoyed the annual Christmas skate with my son, and thought that a few laps around the rink might do me good. So it became my lunch break routine. Then I wanted more. Started taking lessons. Then I wanted to take it to the next level and compete. So I did.
When I first came to an adult drop-in figure skating session I was warmly greeted by Linda, a 78 year young skater who was just putting her skates on. I very soon learned that she only started skating in her fifties, and she has been competing internationally in her category for several years now. Wow! Soon I met some other regulars. Some were skating since they were kids, and made this beautiful sport part of their adult life. Some started like me, as an adult, at different ages.
A big treat the figure skating life had for me is meeting my coaches Anastasia, her brother Pavel, and Lena: amazing – and fun! – they are one of main reasons I was able to get where I am.
I wanted to figure skate when I was a little girl, but I’m happy I started it as an adult. The experience was richer and more unexpected. It was my decision, my timing, my commitment. Yes, I am too far behind the 12-year-olds jumping quads, and just modestly working on some doubles right now. But I met the most amazing people, built connections, felt genuine support and experienced friendship. I learned determination and courage.
The WWMG2020 was an experience beyond expectations. I was of course nervous about my skate, but I still got to watch others, share the experience and build connections.
Do you know that the oldest competitor in the Games, Pat Noddin, is 83 years old? And she started skating only at 58. This was the most touching skate to watch – the group of Bronze Ladies V Artistic Freeskate. A bunch of grandmas giving each other high-fives at the end of the warm-up. They all already won! – by being there, by stepping up at the Olympic ice. And after watching them, none of us has the right to give up, because these ladies have proven it can be done. When Pat did her skate, the stands were filled, and we all had tears in our eyes. She was for the first time on the ice centre by herself since a broken hip and a hip surgery 5 months prior. It was her competition skate, and she did it! “I did it my way” said the words of the song playing. Pat is such an inspiration for all of us, we were all so overwhelmed and in tears. “The judges must be having a hell of a time judging me” was her comment later.
Came the day of my skate, and my knees were trembling. The coach did everything possible to get me ready, and I was.
But as competitive as I am – to my huge surprise to myself – the score did not even matter that much. I was not nervous on the ice anymore once the music started. I knew what I had to do. I was so pumped with adrenaline that I could have probably done it more than once. It did not feel tense or hostile, skating “against” someone. It felt that everyone wanted everyone to do well. Even the skaters in my group, competing against each other, were wishing each other luck and exchanging hugs.
When I finished the skate, I got several little gifts tossed on the ice for me with notes “Awesome Skate!”, “Well Done!” and contacts of people I’ve never met in my life – now felt like friends. They were from Canada, Russia, Czech Republic, Japan, China… This experience was overwhelming!
Some of my family travelled to Austria just to support me. And when I later checked the phone, it was inundated with messages from friends and family all over the world, many woke up at odd times or stopped their day – to watch live my skate in Austria. I had no clue how many people cared to do it. And it was so so special!
I NOW knew, not just in theory like before, that it’s not the score that matters but the participation, the challenge, the experience. Of course, I have goals for my training, and I already have the challenge for myself for the next season and I’ll work hard on it. But I also discovered and lived the wonderful journey that I equally enjoyed.
This is one of my favourite pictures from the trip. It’s not just the person in the front in the black dress, but also the one with long blonde hair to the right, behind the boards – the coach. It’s really the team that is skating for the next 2 minutes and 10 seconds. Sometimes the connections we build in long hours of training are beyond visible, and even entering that last spin I had the coach’s voice in my head “push!”. So i did, and gave it my all.
I started working when I was 13 years old. It was very uncommon for that time and place, most job required to be a minimum of 16 to apply. So I figured if I am my own boss, nobody can tell me how old I am supposed to be. I became self-employed, cosmetics sales consultant. And private tutor for English, French and Italian. After the first wonder at my young age, my customers were pleased with the quality they received. I was determined to prove my age did not matter in the value I delivered and I was super prepared every time. Doing it for the next 5 years, put me through my other language certifications and paid my move to a Swiss university. By the age of 20, I could write on my resume that I had 7 years of work self-employment experience, which was pretty impressive when my classmates barely logged a year or two of McDonald’s job.
I entered university when I was 15. When I came to apply, I was supposed to present my passport, but I did not even own one as they were issued at 16. They took me anyways. All my classmates were about 18+ by then. My original plan was to graduate at 20 and start working. Turns out, these were 3 years were the buffer I needed to enter the 3rd year of the Swiss University when I turned 18. Despite my plans, I did not graduate at 20, but 25 – with 2 Bachelors, 1 Master’s, 1 Doctorate degree and a bunch of additional studies without an outcome with a particular piece of paper. The head start definitely helped. I was not planning on minimizing the time between graduation and retirement by staying in the universities forever.
Someone who amazed me when I was studying in Switzerland, are two students living in the student residence two floors above me – a 68-year-old Dutch lady studying literature and a 72 year old gentleman from Belgium doing his Master’s in theology. That was a truly inspiring lifelong learning!
I came to Canada, and made a 180 degrees turn in my career – leaving academia behind I took my first flight, and later made it my full time occupation. One would argue starting flying at 25, and not right out of high school minimizes your chances of advancing in the airline industry. Being a single mom of a 4 year old does not help either. But not if you become a flight instructor one year later! I always wanted to instruct anyways, as I already had been teaching in other areas for a while, and the airlines would have been boring anyways. Instructing also allowed me to combine my late start and motherhood with what I would consider pretty good aviation career as the Flight School and Charter company owner and an Airshow performer. My son back seated a countless number of my night flights in my process of getting there.
Now comes the last challenge – so far. At the age where most figure skaters these days peak their performance at 14 and retire before 20, I started figure skating at the age of 34. Too late? Try the 78 year old Linda Maundrell who is polishing her program on the same ice sessions or the 83 year old Pat Noddin competing in adult figure skating at the Winter World Master’s games earlier this year. But I did not know that at that time. I was just determined that “if they can do it, I can do it”. Yes, it is coming with its challenges. I am learning slower than the kids would – I also have a bigger height to fall from in my axel. Making lemonade here too? Adults think! Sometimes too much maybe. But definitely enough that by the time you learn the moves you are pretty much ready to explain them in various way to someone else. Sounds like coaching? For sure! So here I am, 2.5 years into figure skating challenge and after a few competitions and shows, working on my coaching certification.
Why is this spontaneous sharing? I hope it gave you some thoughts, ideas and inspiration that age does not matter. Neither do race, nationality, gender or language. And if someone tells you otherwise – please do me a favour and prove them wrong!
All our family events were centered around food. And even a simple visit to a grandma was usually associated with a meal that looked like they were feeding an over-starved kid who did not eat for at least three months!
You think the North Americans are much different? Try a “cleanse”. For debatable reasons and debatable benefits, you can skip food (not water!) for a week or so, and – believe it or not! – still be alive and even well at the end of it. I tried it once with my partner. Guess what was the biggest challenge? Spoiler alert: it’s not what you might think. We ran out of social things to do! Taking a lunch break together? Oh, we can’t have lunch. Date night? What kind of date does not involve at least a coffee with dessert, or a snack, if not a full dinner? Road trip? Can’t try that local restaurant rated almost 5 stars on the Trip Advisor!
Somehow, in our spoiled society we believe that we will severely suffer if we don’t get at least 3 meals per day. But better 6 if you include snacks. Outcomes of this lifestyle include but not limited to extra fat in our body and extra “fat” in our brain. I don’t mean that literally of course about the brain. I refer to the fact that we are so busy with daily “stuff” and the rat race, that we spend little time thinking – and doing – very little for the “big picture”, purpose of life, legacy, eternity and spiritual life.
We’ve all heard of fasting, in different contexts. Intermittent fasting, fasting for medical reasons, prayerful fasting. Basically, not eating any food or only certain types of food for a specific reason.
You can think of fasting almost as an extreme version of a diet – like restricted food vs. no food. But it’s not entirely true. Diets usually deal with the types of food, maybe quantities. Fasting is about the timing – when you eat, not what you eat. Not to say that both cannot be combined for whatever reason.
Speaking of diets – I suck at it! I can only restrict myrself so much. I know for a fact that it is not the matter of IF, but WHEN I crack and that piece of dark chocolate jumps from the shelf straight into my mouth, unwrapping itself in flight. Sticking to calories budget is challenging, and “almost-no-calories” snacks that you “forget” to record, can so easily add up to extra 500 calories in a day. So realistically, even if you commit yourself to a 12 weeks diet to lose 20 pounds, but go back to the old habits right after – who cares? Your body will quickly rebuild its “reserves” it got used to. So unless you are committed – and more importantly, actually capable – to stick to your new diet for the rest of your life, don’t even bother torturing yourself for a few weeks.
Jesus fasted for 40 days in the desert – probably not something any modern human would even attempt voluntarily. Weight loss was not His issue of course. Christians fast sometimes on certain days of the week or holidays of the year. Other religions have that fasting element also – Ramadan comes to mind. The goal here is to stop, reflect, give up something earthly for something eternal.
Are you even comfortable being on your own? Quiet? Reflecting? Or you are so addicted to distraction, social media and noise – because they keep you away from that discomfort?
Now, after all this above-described whirlwind of thoughts that came to mind, the always-optimizing me asked the question: Why can it not be combined? Why can we not, while stopping and reflecting on life, or simply finding a quiet moment for ourselves, or just finding extra time to do something you always wanted – read a book or learn a new language – benefit from healthier eating habits? Maybe not even having to give up on the treats we love. Sounds too good to be true? Hear me out and do the math. I switched to only one (very good) meal per day, and here are some highlights:
Each meal takes you what, 30-60 minutes on average? Of course, it ranges from a quick sandwich swallowed while reading emails to taking time to shop, cook and serve the meal – or drive to the restaurant and wait for someone else to do it for you. Either way, it’s time. This is your gain #1
It’s a kind of “food management” method too. Counting calories and sticking to, say, 1500 calories per day budget can be tricky. But have you ever tried to eat a 1500 calories meal all at once? Even if you add dessert, you probably are not exceeding 1100-1200 calories in one meal. And if it’s your only meal in a day, you just won the “disciplined eater” award while licking the last piece of cheesecake off your spoon. This is your gain #2.
You can still enjoy food! In fact, instead of limiting myself in each of the 3 – or more – meals in a day, each time cutting back as much as possible, I now get to enjoy the whole range of foods I love, even without skipping a reasonable dessert. This is your gain #3.
Finally, channel your new time and energy. Yes, your stomach will be reminding you that it consists of emptiness. In the past, you reached for a snack when it happened. But what if you grabbed a glass of water instead and read a few pages of the book, did a language lesson on the app or said a prayer – reminding yourself that whatever you do is more important than a temporary discomfort you might feel. While the really enjoyable meal is just a few hours away anyways. This is your gain #4.
Losing weight for the sake of losing weight is hard, self-centered and often unsuccessful. But when it happens to be a by-product of you making more time for something more important, then both the richness of your life and the slimness of your line will benefit from it.
Remember to stay hydrated, drink plenty of water, electrolytes, and even unsweetened beverages. Life can be so enjoyable in healthy, productive and deep in many ways.
It was surprising to me, because I’m the kind of person who has the next 12-24 months usually planned in details, and yet I don’t even know now what happens tomorrow… And I’m ok with it. I’ve distanced myself from some people, not just physically. And it’s ok. I met new great and like-minded people, and one day soon we’ll even be able to give each other a hug. I have no idea what happens in the next days, weeks, months – with my business, family, health. But looking at the past years, I’ve had times I paid over $50 for one dinner, and times I had $50 as my monthly food budget. I’ve run a marathon or jumped an (under-rotated) axel on the ice, and I had times I couldn’t walk. But my track record of getting through all this stuff is so far 100%. Because I’m NOT in control. He is. And He is good. We don’t know all the future, but it will be ok. Because while we are still figuring it out, He’s got it. Thank You Jesus! For everything.
Traditionally in Eastern European countries women are rarely joining the army. But it’s a different story when it comes to standing up to defend our home, our families, our parents and children.
A former model joined the army.
This graphic designer decided to join the army 2 years ago, because wasn’t liking where russia was going with their politics.
A hero defender of Azovstal in Mariupol was a “normal” girl before the war
Women who are POW-survivors, returned to Ukraine
There’s the first female commander at sea.
And even those who became fiancées, wifes and sometimes widows – an entire lifetime within all of a few days or weeks.
And even foreign volunteers include women – a Swedish Member of Parliament is putting her medical skills to work on the front lines in Ukraine.
And many more:
Women activists
Many girls and women stood up and supported Ukraine where they were, however they could:
A young girl collecting donations for cavlar vests for the defenders.
Those who came out to protest in their countries and support Ukraine
And even Spanish royalty was sending food and personal note of encouragement to the Ukrainian defenders.
Women everywhere
And often it takes as much courage and determination to even just keep living a “normal” life.
Women giving birth under Russian bombs
Looking after newborns in bomb shelters for months! (This scene was replicated on a painting in one of the Italian churches). Fleeing to the safety of nowhere, leaving your life behind, to protect your children. Even “bomb-shelter-schooling”!
Or baking Paskhas for Easter, even if the stove is the only thing left of your house.
And sometimes…. Even give life another chance, like this military nurse who lost both legs on a russian landmine in Eastern Ukraine, survived, got evacuated, and got married even before being dismissed from the rehab centre.
I am so proud of my people. I am so particularly proud of the incredible brave women of Ukraine.
– No, God, souls from Kyiv region are still waiting for God’s judgment.
– Bucha and Irpin? Call everyone. It’s simple: everyone to heaven.
– Without a trial?
– Yes, without trial. All to paradise.
– Well, but, God, you know, there is one problem: they do not want to go to heaven.
– Don’t they want to go to heaven? This is the first time since I created the Earth. Call them here.
Souls came into the office. Exhausted, gray – this is what happens when you die a martyr’s death.
– So you don’t want to go to heaven? – God frowned.
– God, we want, of course, we want. But not now. You know, we are needed there on earth. We have to help. We have a war, there are our relatives, our people. How can we peacefully rejoice when our land is invaded by the occupier?
– But I can’t revive you, God said.
– And it is not necessary, – the thin girl of 8 years stepped forward. – We will go as we are. I will fly to Europe. I will walk around their cities and look people in the eyes – let them feel that gas has risen in price for the sake of people like me. I will rock their children and sing the lullaby that my mother taught me – about Ukraine, about peace, about good. So that no one will ever doubt that their help is valuable.
– And I, – said the young woman, – will go to European politicians. I will tell them at night how it hurt. How scary. Scary and painful. And then the fear disappeared somewhere. And I spat the inhuman in the face. He drove a tank over my body. And I wanted to spit on him again, but I couldn’t – my soul was already flying high. I will tell them why we need their weapons. Because of me. For the sake of people like me.
– And I’m going to the European military,- said the man with the gray hair, – I’ll tell you how I went to pick up bread and a bullet pierced my heart. Through the back. I will address their dignity and honor, their humanity. Remind of the laws of the war. And I will show what is happening now in Ukraine.
– I, I, and I will go,- said a chorus of voices.
– We will all go. All. They need us there. Our relatives. Our people. Our land. And after the Victory – take us, God, wherever you want. For all your will.
– I allow you. Become a European angel battalion.
God waved his hand and turned away. St. Peter saw him wipe away a tear that was about to fall from his eyelashes.
– Now do you understand, Peter, why they deserve paradise without trial?
-I understand, God. Because they are already angels. Guardian angels of Ukraine
– Ні, Боже, ще душі з Київщини на суд божий чекають.
– Буча і Ірпінь? Зви всіх. Тут все просто: всіх до раю.
– Без суду?
– Так, без суду. Всіх до раю.
– Добре, але, Боже, розумієш, є одна проблема: вони не хочуть до раю.
– Не хочуть до раю? Це вперше, відколи я створив Землю. Клич сюди.
До кабінету зайшли душі. Змучені, посірілі – так буває, коли помираєш мученицькою смертю.
– То ви не хочете до раю? – насупився Бог.
– Боже, хочемо, звісно, хочемо. Але не зараз. Розумієш, ми потрібні там, на землі. Ми мусимо допомогти. У нас війна, там наші рідні, наш народ. Як ми зможемо спокійно раювати, коли нашу землю топче окупант?
– Але я не можу вас оживити, – розвів руками Бог.
– І не треба, – виступила вперед худенька дівчинка рочків 8. – Ми так підемо. Я полечу до Європи. Ходитиму по їхніх містах і заглядатиму людям в очі – нехай відчувають, що газ подорожчав заради таких, як я. Я гойдатиму їхніх дітей і співатиму колискової, якої мене вчила мама – про Україну, про мир, про добро. Щоб ніхто і ніколи не засумнівався, що їхня допомога – цінна.
– А я, – озвалася молода жінка, – піду до європейських політиків. Розповідатиму їм ночами, як мені боліло. Як було страшно. Страшно і боляче. А потім страх кудись зник. І я плюнула нелюду в обличчя. Він їздив по моєму тілу танком. А я так хотіла плюнути в нього ще раз, але не могла – душа вже високо летіла. Я буду розповідати їм, чому нам потрібне їхнє озброєння. Заради мене. Заради таких, як я.
– А я піду до військових Європи, – мовив чоловік із сивими скронями, – розкажу, як я їхав за хлібом. Як серце моє прошила куля. Через спину. Звертатимуся до їхньої гідності і честі, до людяності. Нагадаю про закони війни. І покажу, що коїться зараз в Україні.
– І я, і я, і я піду, – загудів хор голосів.
– Ми всі підемо. Всі. Нас там потребують. Наші рідні. Наш народ. Наша земля. А після Перемоги – веди нас, Боже, куди хочеш. На все твоя воля.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете казати про вєлікій рускій балєт, я буду розказувати вам історію неодноразово зґвалтованої на очах у батьків, а потім викраденої російськими нелюдами молодої вчительки з Броварів. Про десятки, а може й сотні зґвалтованих українських жінок. Часто на очах у дітей. Про 15-16 річних дівчаток з Бородянки, які зазнали страшного насилля кадирівцями. Про тіла п’ятьох зґвалтованих молодих дівчат, вбитих і залишених прямо на дорозі. Про оце мерзенне «будем тра*ать хохлушек» в перехватах. Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімий вєлікій руський балєт.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете мені казати про вєлікіх руських композіторов, я буду вам розказувати історію дівчинки, на очах якої і її маленького брата в маріупольському підвалі не один день помирала їхня мама. А потім з трупом мертвої мами діти були вимушені і далі ховатися в підвалі від обстрілів. Про хлопчика з Гостомеля, на очах якого російські солдати застрелили його батька. А потім хотіли вбити і сина, але той вижив. Про дівчинку, якій вистрілили прямо в обличчя. Про малюка, який тікав з бабусею в човні. Бабуся втопилася. А хлопчика шукають уже майже місяць. Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімих вєліких руських композіторов.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете казати мені про вєлікую руськую живопісь, я буду вам розказувати про розстріляних в спину мирних українців в Макарівському районі. А перед тим, як застрелити, орки зав’язували їм руки. Про сотні трупів на вулицях Бучі, Ірпеня, Гостомеля. Про братські могили у дворах житлових кварталів. Братські могили мирних мешканців донедавна затишних і безпечних міст. Братські могили. В 21 столітті. Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімую вєлікую руськую живопісь.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете мені розказувати про вєлікій рускій тєатр, я буду вам розказувати історію жінки з Броварського району, з будинку якої російські мародери, відступаючи, знімали металочерепицю. Про танки і БТРи «другої армії світу», навантажені по вінця награбованим в українських домівках. Крадені телефони, планшети, телевізори, пральні машинки, килими, прикраси, пляшки з алкоголем, сковорідки, одяг, іграшки, взуття – все, що траплялось на шляху цим виродкам. Про те, як діставшись до Білорусі, вони наввипередки відправляли награбоване своїм родинам в росію. Про те, як торгували краденим на білоруських базарах. Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімий вєлікій руський театр.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете розказувати мені про вєлікоє рускоє кіно, я буду розказувати вам про жорстоко розстріляних коней в конюшнях на Київщині. Про заморених голодом і спрагою тварин зоопарку в Ясногородці. Про спалену після вибуху шкіру оленяти. А тепер максимальне дикунство… Про вбитого і з’їденого російськими окупантами алабая. Так, алабая. Так, собаки. Так, з’їденої. Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімоє вєлікоє рускоє кіно.
Кожного разу, коли ви будете розказувати мені про вєлікую рускую літєратуру, я буду вам розказувати про десятки перехватів розмов російських солдатів з їхніми матерями і дружинами. Розмов, в яких крім на*уя на нах*ї нічого нема. Розмов, в яких дружини замовляють, що їм вкрасти в українських будинках. Розмов, де матері сміються, коли синочки розказують, як їхні побатрими гвалтують хохлушек. І якщо з цих розмов викинути всі мати, в них лишиться хіба що «прівєт» і «пока». Ось що я вам скажу у відповідь про ганімую вєлікую рускую літєратуру.
Більше нема ніякої вєлікої руської культури, літератури, кіна, живопісі, тєатра і балєта. Є країна виродків, мародерів, ґвалтівників і убивць. Диких людей, яким нема місця в цивілізованому світі!
А багатостраждальні новоспечені руські дисиденти в затишних квартирах Берліна, Лондона, Ларнаки, Мілану, Тбілісі, Астани, Відня та інших тимчасових прихистків, хай ідуть за маршрутом руського корабля, гордо несучи в руках вєлікую рускую культуру!
Every time you talk about the “great russian ballet”, I will tell you the story of a young teacher from Brovary who was repeatedly raped in front of her parents and then kidnapped by russian villains. About dozens, maybe hundreds of raped Ukrainian women. Often in front of the eyes of children. About 15-16-year-old girls from Borodyanka who suffered terrible violence from the Kadyrovites. About the bodies of five raped young girls who were killed and left on the road. About this abomination “we will fuck hohlushky (ref: Ukrainian girls)” in interceptions of their phone calls. Here is what I will tell you in response about the sucky “great russian ballet”.
Every time you tell me about “great russian composers”, I will tell you the story of a girl in front of whom and her little brother in the basement of Mariupol, their mother died over several days. And then with the corpse of the dead mother, the children were forced to continue to hide in the basement from the shelling. About a guy from Gostomel, in front of whom Russian soldiers shot his father. And then they wanted to kill his son, but he survived. About a girl who was shot directly in the face. About a kid who tried to flee with his grandmother in a boat. Grandma drowned. And the boy has been searched for almost a month now. Here is what I will tell you in response about the sucky “great russian composers”.
Every time you tell me about the “great russian fine art”, I will tell you about the Ukrainian civilians shot in the back in the Makariv district. And before they were shoot, the orcs tied their hands. About hundreds of corpses on the streets of Bucha, Irpen, Gostomel. About mass graves in the yards of residential neighborhoods. The mass graves of the civilians who lived recently in cozy and safe cities. Mass graves. In the 21st century. Here is what I will tell you in response about the sucky “great russian fine art”.
Every time you tell me about the “great russian theater”, I will tell you the story of a woman from the Brovary district, off whose house russian looters were taking metal roof tiles. About tanks and armored vehicles of the “Second Army of the World”, loaded to the brim with what they robbed in Ukrainian homes. Stolen phones, tablets, TVs, washing machines, carpets, jewelry, bottles of alcohol, pans, clothes, toys, shoes – everything these degenerates came across. When they got to Belarus, they were racing to send their loot to russia. About how they sold the stolen goods in belarusian bazaars. Here is what I will tell you in response about the sucky “great russian theater”.
Every time you tell me about the “great russian cinema”, I will tell you about the brutally shot horses in the stables in Kyiv region. About the animals of the zoo in Yasnogorodka, frozen to death, or killed by hunger and thirst. About a baby deer skin burned in the explosion. And now the maximum savagery… About an alabai (ref: Central Asian Shepherd Dog) killed and eaten by the russian occupiers. Yes, an alabai. Yes, dogs. Yes, eaten. Here is what I will tell you in return about the sucky “great russian cinema”.
Every time you tell me about the “great russian literature”, I will tell you about dozens of interceptions of conversations between russian soldiers and their mothers and wives. Conversations in which there is nothing but swear words. Conversations in which wives give them a “shopping list” to steal in Ukrainian homes. Conversations where mothers laugh when their sons tell how their cousins rape hohlushki (ref: Ukrainian girls). And if all swear words were thrown out of these conversations, they will have only “hello” and “bye”. Here is what I will tell you in response to the sucky “great russian literature”.
There is no longer any great russian culture, literature, cinema, fine art, theater and ballet. There is a country of degenerates, looters, rapists and murderers. Savage people who have no place in the civilized world!
And long-suffering new russian dissidents in the cozy apartments of Berlin, London, Larnaca, Milan, Tbilisi, Astana, Vienna and other temporary shelters, let them follow the route of the russian ship, proudly carrying in their hands the “great russian culture!”
