Viktor

04:02. Awake in Lviv. Out the door by half past four.

The streets were empty. Curfew holds until five — no one is out before then, unless they have a reason to be.

I had a reason. A ticket to Vorokhta, and beyond it the valley — Verkhovyna, the Hutsul heartland. The dispatch put me on the street before the city was allowed to wake.

Then, on the way, movement. Others, making for the same station.

The conductor spoke English. She checked my ticket and walked me to my seat herself.

A young man boarded and took the seat beside me. Viktor. From Kyiv. He works in an iron ore mine. He was going where I was going — to Vorokhta, to meet his wife and his child. Two weeks. Time out.

We had no language in common. He was curious. He wanted to know, and we tried. He had a phone, and the phone had a translator. What the two of us could not do ourselves, the phone did. We shared our stories.

Vorokhta. End of the line. Everyone off.

I said goodbye to Viktor and went to find the bus to Verkhovyna.

His wife and son were waiting for him. He may not have seen them in a long time. He came and stood beside me anyway — to make sure I was at the right stop. Then he waited with me.

No bus. We waited. No bus.

A minibus pulled in to let people off. Viktor asked the driver which way he was headed. Verkhovyna. I said yes — I did not want to wait any longer. I went for my bags.

Before I could pay, before I could say a word, Viktor had already arranged it. All of it. For nothing. — unconditional —

Viktor — the future of Ukraine.

Thanks to Viktor, I arrived in Verkhovyna — safe and sound, and on time. I crossed the threshold into Hutsul territory.

The day ended at Zhyva Khata. A girl, six years old, walking outside just before sunset, singing — as loud and as soft as she could, echoing in the mountains.

I fell asleep knowing.

Day 3 — Räumen — Soil and Peace
Verkhovyna, Carpathian Mountains, Ukraine
© 2026 Michel Garand | Soil and Peace | CC BY-SA 4.0
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