Backyard kids
On this day I arrived at the house I grew up in.
After my parents built themselves a family house outside the city, our old apartment was taken over by my sister's family.
It is an ordinary post-soviet high-rise in one of Dnipro’s residential neighborhoods, messily covered with thermal insulation on different floors. But for our family, this ugly high-rise building has great significance. My grandmother was involved in constructing this apartment building in the last years of the Soviet Union, before she gave it to my father for his wedding. My sister and I spent our happy childhood in this house. It’s from here that I was escorted for the first time to another country, where, after years of wandering, I was destined to find a home of my own.
Every time I visit Ukraine, I try to get there at least once, driven by the desire to say hello to an old friend.
This time, when I arrived, I witnessed a scene from the past. Right under my window there were about 10 kids playing around the bouncer (an iron structure used by soviet people to knock dust out of their numerous carpets). I ran up to them and started taking pictures, trying to catch a good shot before they got embarrassed by the stranger photographer.
Looking at this photo, it might seem like it was taken when I was a kid, years before the covid and even before the era of the smartphone.
These kids aren't sitting in a tiktok, they are not wearing any masks, just enjoying a warm August day, riding scooters, climbing iron structures, or even playing cards on a powerhouse (harsh Ukrainian girls!).
When the guys saw me, they started yelling for me not to take the pictures of them at first, but when I showed them some shots, they were pleased and let me leave in peace.
Also on this day:
