The Ukrainian House, Far More Than Just a Dwelling Place
Johann Georg Kohl, a German geographer, wrote in 1838, “The Ukrainians live in tidy huts that are always kept clean and seem to be smiling at you. The housewives do not only wash them every Saturday like the Dutch do, they also whitewash their houses every fortnight. That is why houses in Ukraine look very trim and nice, like newly bleached linen.”
Kohl described the houses typical of the central part of Ukraine that he visited – one-story, wooden and with thatched roofs – while there has always been a vast variety of building materials, sizes, designs and colors of houses across the different regions of this country. Yet each word in his description is true in regard to houses in all the Ukrainian lands.
And there is not a single house to be found in any Ukrainian village without an orchard and a vegetable garden.
The house with its bright living room is a temple for every Ukrainian. And it was always duly decorated. Embroidered towels on the icon frames and windows as well as other adornments enriched the spiritual world of every Ukrainian home.
Opposite the sideboard stood the wonderful, sacred Ukrainian stove. Everyone treated it as a living being. However irritated or outraged, the husband never allowed himself to swear inside the house and said only, “I would say a word or two, but there’s a stove in this house!”
The stove rightfully deserved the deepest respect for giving the Ukrainians food and curing their illnesses. No mixtures, no pills, no injections – only herbal tinctures and a bed on the hot stove cured everything – from radiculitis to fever. It was commonly believed that illness shunned the stove like evil spirits shunned an Easter egg. That is why the furnace of every stove always faced the south – in disrespect for evil forces that were believed to come from the north.
The Ukrainians even sang: “Chimney, oh chimney, please wed my little house and kill the hateful dark like the cat kills the mouse! God, make me strong and make me sound! I call the light on you, and you, and everyone around!”
The most revered place in the house was the holy corner called “pokut” where icons hung, keeping peace and bringing the divine force and God’s blessing to the house. That is why the pokut was adorned in the best way. There were two little windows in the wall near it, both facing the east. Getting up at dawn and seeing the first beams of sunlight, the husband looked at the icons and said, “The Sun is up, God has given me another day, and God will give me food to eat.”
To the left, behind the table stood a stove bench that also served as a bed. Ukrainians hardly had any idea of vertebral science, but sleeping on the hard and even stove bench instead of a soft feather bed they never had pains in the back.
And when someone passed away, it was where the body spent the last night before the funeral.
The sideboard was the housewife’s visiting card that showed her character, temper and household skills. It was where she kept her best plates, mugs and other tableware. The cooking pot was respected like a human being and a guardian of the home and was addressed in all politeness.
While at work, the potter would always say: “God help me make it nice! God help me glaze it! God help me sell it well, and may it give pleasure and tasty food!” The parts of a pot had their names just like people: the heel, the trunk, the neck, and the mouth. The size of the pot depended on what was cooked in it, but the neck had to be wide enough for a spoon.
The “korets” – a kind of two-pint jug – is a very interesting thing. When a young lad grew up enough to “come of age,” he had to drink a full korets of hooch, and then spend the rest of the day without losing control or showing any signs of being drunk. If the boy failed this test, he was not admitted to the “grownup” company.
There always had to be some beverage in the sideboard just in case a man dropped in. Mostly, it was made from rye wash that was settled, poured off and refined, and then some ripe viburnum berries were added. This reddish liquor was just a little stronger than beer, but even a little of it made the head swim.
One of the traditional and very much respected crafts was boot-making. It required a good deal of skill. A pair of boots was the most valuable thing. It cost 20 times more than a cow and not everyone could afford it. The boot-maker made stitches with waxed canvas thread and a needle made of a wild boar’s bristle. He fixed the sole with nails made of birch wood. They were extremely strong and held the sole better than any glue. When the sole was completely worn out, the wooden nails still held it fast to the leather.
For a Ukrainian girl or woman going to a Sunday church service or a special event, such as a wedding, a pair of high calfskin boots was as indispensable as a tie for today’s man at a formal meeting. Red ones were especially valued.
The workshop was the husband’s realm, where he spent a lot of time making or fixing all kinds of houseware, garden tools and other things. Every tool had its specific function. For example, it was forbidden to cut off a chicken’s head with an ax that was used in carpentry. The same applied to knives: Ukrainians never cut bread or vegetables with the same knife that cut meat, because they believed that a blood-stained blade could inflict misfortune on their home.
Ukrainians stored grain, chaff and cereals in large vessels called “kadib.” They were made of pinewood hollowed out with a small scoop. It took up to three years to make one.
Bread was and remains sacred to Ukrainians and every family baked its own bread. They threshed wheat or rye grain and then milled it. The housewife checked out if it was hulled well enough, and then it was put into the hole between the millstones and the husband or his sons turned them, as this work required a lot of strength. The women, meanwhile, would do work such as combing, spinning, weaving and sewing.
People began to weave as far back as 10,000 years ago, and Ukrainians say that spinning was a gift that Eve received from the Lord Himself.
It was the most honored kind of women’s work and each tool that was used in yarn-making was treated with the highest respect. The spinning wheel was the most valuable wedding gift that the bride could get from her groom. Sometimes a whole tree had to be felled to make a spinning wheel.
In every Ukrainian village, one of the most respected men was the blacksmith who forged all kinds of metal objects and tools – from horseshoes and nails to plows, saps, scythes and spades. Before he started working, he took a good look around his smithy, said a prayer, crossed himself at the sacred fire, bowed to it and checked his hammers on the anvil. Only then did he know that he had the right to go on.
In the Old Slavic language, there was one and the same word for “smithery” and “art.” The proto-Ukrainians believed that a blacksmith could forge magic weapons, words and songs. Their ancient god Svarog was a blacksmith who forged human fates. That is why young couples came to a blacksmith before their wedding to get his blessing and wedding rings as tokens of marital bonds.
The tools which blacksmiths used to forge flails, horseshoes, cramps, nails and other things were rather expensive. A good grip, for instance, cost eleven rubles in gold. Not all blacksmiths were able to make this valuable tool, but every blacksmith needed it, so he was always very particular and careful about his tools.
For seven or eight millennia this land has kept the traditions, rituals, rites and customs of our ancestors – from those of the Trypillia civilization and the Scythians to the proto-Ukrainians, the Rusychi, and finally the Ukrainians. They all have thrived in the Ukrainian house.
Fewer and fewer rustic patches remain on our urbanized globe, but that is where the soul of every nation lives – in old customs, traditions, and folk crafts.
Source: Andriy Bondar