Interview with Gogol Bordello’s Eugene Hütz on his experience as a kid living in Ukraine during the Chernobyl accident. I’m seeing Gogol at the 9:30 Club in a few weeks and can’t wait. One of the best concerts I’ve ever seen was their show at Coachella in ‘07.

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The Battle of Chernobyl is by far the best documentary I’ve seen on the disaster and ensuing cleanup. This documentary contains a lot of footage that’s never been shown before, including scenes of the poor liquidators forced to stitch together their own “anti-radiation” suits and then shovel radioactive debris off the roof of the reactor. I originally saw The Battle of Chernobyl on the Discovery Times Channel a few years ago, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was uploaded to Google Video. If you have any interest in the subject, I’d highly recommend watching this documentary. The 90 minutes is well worth it.

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This is from the August 2, 2008 edition of Frontera, a Tijuana/San Diego based Spanish-language newspaper. Recognize that photo at the bottom? Yeah, that is Ryan and I in front of Chernobyl’s infamous reactor four when we (along with Laura) toured the exclusion zone on July 4, 2007.

The entire article is behind a paywall now, but it did list my blog address and this blurb:

Lindsay Fincher es una californiana que visitó el reactor número 4, en su blog describió la experiencia en el lugar como “surrealista”.

From my three years of high school Spanish (which I’ve almost completely forgotten), it generally translates to “Lindsay Fincher is a Californian that visited reactor number four and in her blog described the experience as surreal” or whatever.

The funny thing about this? I had no idea this article existed until it showed up in my website stats. Figures.

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Today marks the 22nd anniversary of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. In Belarus, several thousand protesters marched through Minsk to express their opposition to the government’s recent announcement that a quarter of new college graduates would be assigned to areas that were heavily contaminated by radioactive fallout in 1986:

Protester Konstantin Timokhov, 21, said he was deeply worried that the government will force him to work in a contaminated area when he graduates from university.

“The government is hiding the truth from us. My health and my future are in danger,” he said.
Radiation levels have declined substantially in most areas near Chernobyl, but scientists disagree on the level of risk.

Some doctors who work in towns downwind from Chernobyl say the health effects are still being felt, and students being sent into these areas are afraid.

Kasya Markouskaya, 23, has been ordered to spend two years in Buda-Koshelyovo, a contamination-area town, when she graduates with a journalism degree this spring.

“My situation is little different from that of a slave who has been forced to do dangerous work,” Markouskaya told The Associated Press recently. If she refuses, she will either be stripped of her diploma or required to reimburse the state for the full cost of her education. When she entered university, there were no such strings attached.

The work assignments began last year, and about one-fourth of this year’s 21,000 graduates are being sent to the contaminated areas.

Vice Prime Minister Alexander Kosinets said at parliamentary hearings Friday that if the work assignments were canceled, these regions would be left without the doctors, teachers, agricultural workers and other specialists they need.

Many people from these areas moved away; Lukashenko now wants to repopulate them so agriculture and industry can be revived.

Some of the young professionals sent to contaminated regions last year have already fled. About 800 graduates have refused to take up their work assignments this year, the Education Ministry said.

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There was a preview for the History Channel’s “Life After People” while we were waiting for Charlie Wilson’s War to start (entertaining enough movie, but seriously, read the book), and I instantly recognized one of the featured locations (”Dude, that’s where we went in July.”). Supposedly, the show focuses on what happens to our infrastructure after all the humans are gone (where we went, I have no clue, but apparently not to Home Depot). The show’s case study is Pripyat, the city of 50,000 that was abandoned following the disaster at Chernobyl. The footage of Pripyat looked rather amazing, so if nothing else, the show is worth TiVoing because of that. “Life After People” premieres Monday, January 21, 9pm (or 8pm for those of you in that bizarre central time zone).

Pripyat amusement park, July ‘07

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As bizarre as it sounds, wealthy Ukrainians are building vacation homes near the 30km exclusion zone surrounding the Chernobyl nuclear reactor:

The sky is a cornflower blue and the lake is calm. Sunburned fishermen pull up to the dock in motorboats, their nets filled with pike.

On the deck of a hunting lodge, couples are feasting on their catches and rehashing the day’s adventures. Farther down the road, crews are finishing the roof of yet another lakefront, luxury home.

The latest villa to sprout on the shores of the Kiev Reservoir is just a few metres from the barbed-wire fence that marks the 30-kilometre exclusion zone surrounding the infamous Chernobyl plant.

Yes, nature lovers have discovered Chernobyl. The region near the scene of the world’s worst nuclear accident is now dubbed the “Chernobyl Riviera” for its grand homes and commanding vistas.

[...]

Twenty-one years after a reactor at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant exploded, ripping off the roof, and spewing radioactive poison into the countryside, Ukrainian holiday-makers are flocking to the region to bask in its quiet and enjoy the abundant wilderness that sprang to life when humans were forcibly evacuated.

Today, the woods and waters surrounding the village of Strakholissya – a half-hour drive from the stricken plant – are among the best hunting and fishing grounds in Ukraine. Wild boar, deer and wolves roam in the dense birch and pine forests.

Not one of the many weekenders interviewed expressed concern about potential health hazards. “It’s more contaminated in Kiev,” one fisherman said, laughing.

Recently, Ukraine’s rich and famous discovered the tranquil spot. They are mainly from Kiev, townspeople say, and they have built a line of lavish homes, hidden from prying villagers’ eyes by tall fences.

Their magnificent houses, docks and swimming pools are on full display if you rent a boat and ogle from the lake.

[...]

At the hunting lodge, Mr. Kuzmenko, his wife and friends said they weren’t worried about radiation levels.
“Our bodies have adapted to this,” said Sergei Ivanov, who, along with Mr. Kuzmenko and their wives drove up from Kiev for a weekend of duck hunting.

The group were up at dawn with their rifles. By early afternoon, they were back at the lodge, relaxing on the deck, the corpses of their hunted fowl hanging from the railing. Mr. Kuzmenko’s wife, Oksana, was looking forward to sunset.

“In the evening, the water gets an interesting colour,” Ms. Kuzmenko said. “The moon gives a white light, which makes [the lake] look like ice.”

Personally, I’d rather invest in beachfront property and spend my time surfing instead of picking radioactive mushrooms, but that’s just me. To each their own.

Related: LAist Interview: Director/Adaptor of Voices from Chornobyl, Cindy Marie Jenkins, Chernobyl plant to get a proper burial

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Yeah, I’m finally done writing about this trip. Only took me four months. Still, that’s a significant improvement over last year’s trip to the Caucasus, which I didn’t finish writing about until December. I haven’t the slightest idea why it takes me so much time to write about places I’ve gone, considering that my travel posts are what most people stumble across, and therefore e-mail me about.

So, if you missed anything, here you go:
1. LOT – The airline of the proletariat
2. Ukraine Photos: Touring the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone
3. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part I: Dude, where’s your Geiger counter?
4. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part II: Liquidators Memorial / Kopachi / Catfish / Reactor 4
5. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part III: The ghosts of Pripyat
6. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part IV: Chisto?
7. Kiev: Post-Chernobyl food run/4th of July dinner (or how I flew 6000 miles to partake in Oreo Madness)
8. Ukraine Photos: Kiev
9. Kiev: You’ve seen one Rodina Mat, you’ve seen ‘em all
10. Make sure to secure the door when I am gone. There are many dangerous people who wanna take things from Americans, and also kidnap them. Good night!
11. Kiev Pechersk Lavra (Kiev Monastery of the Caves)
12. Poland Photos: Krakow / Auschwitz-Birkenau / Wieliczka Salt Mine
13. Kraków
14. Auschwitz
15. Wieliczka Salt Mine: Goin’ Deeper Underground

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The Blacksmith Institute recently published its list of the world’s most polluted places, with four of the top ten located in the former Soviet Union:

* Sumgayit, Azerbaijan (chemical industry)
* Dzerzhinsk, Russia (chemical weapons production)
* Norilsk, Russia (nickel mining)
* Chernobyl, Ukraine (radiation)

Never made it to Sumgayit when I was in Azerbaijan, but the area outside of Baku was the most polluted place I’d ever seen…huge pools of crude oil, rusting equipment, broken pipelines…the place was just a damn mess. Chernobyl, of course, is also extremely polluted, but you could easily mistake it for a nature preserve if not for the “Warning! Radiation!” signs planted throughout the exclusion zone.

In other Chernobyl related news, the Ukrainian government signed a $600 million contract with the French company Novarka for the construction of a new shield to cover reactor four and the current dilapidated sarcophagus. Work is expected to start in October, with a targeted completion date of 2012. The EBRD is picking up most of the tab.

Source: BBC

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With the visit to Pripyat over, our tour of the exclusion zone was slowly drawing to a close. We stopped at the 10km exclusion zone checkpoint, where a guard ran a Geiger counter along the side of the bus and gave us a thumbs up to proceed back to the city of Chernobyl. Before heading back to Chornobylinterinform, we stopped at a ship “graveyard”, memorial park, and small enclosure that contained vehicles used by the liquidators during the cleanup effort.

These ships were abandoned after the Chernobyl disaster due to their high levels of radiation.

Firetrucks and armored personnel carriers used by the liquidators

Memorial erected on the 10th anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster

We arrived back at Chornobylinterinform in the late afternoon, and after dutifully standing in line to wash our hands (with our guide mumbling something about particles and parts per million, or whatever) we were served a delicious four course “clean” (meaning, all the food was apparently brought in from outside the zone) meal. I was completely puzzled by one of the beverages, a bright pink concoction with the consistency of jello that hadn’t quite solidified. We dined with an Englishman who had recently returned from North Korea, which, he claimed, was one of the best countries he has visited. I was totally jealous, considering I’ve been wanting to go to North Korea for the past four years. Maybe next year?

Before leaving Chornobylinterinform, we took turns posing for photos on this machine that apparently checks for radiation, or something. Like I said in a previous entry, the health and safety briefing was lacking.

Ryan, myself, and Laura

Kittens outside Chornobylinterinform

Ryan and Laura playing with the radioactive kittens. Uh, no, you can’t take them home…and while Purell hand sanitizer kills 99.999999% of germs, I don’t think that applies to radiation.

When we reached the 30km, and final, checkpoint, a guard ran a Geiger counter along the side of the bus, once again declared it clean, and ordered us off the bus. We were led into a building containing a row of machines that check zone visitors for possible contamination. I stepped onto the machine, placed my hands on the side, and stared at the four buttons in front of me, silently praying that the green one marked “chisto” (”clean”), and not either of the two red buttons, would light up. After a few agonizing seconds, the green button declared that I was clean, the steel bar unlocked, and I was free to leave the zone.

Chisto!

Several in our group stood there on the machines, waiting for instructions of some sort, until the guard supervising the process grinned at them, gave a thumbs up sign, and urged them on using the only English he knew, “OK, OK!” Our entire group passed, which was comforting, because I don’t think anyone was really looking forward to the decontamination showers. Rather, we just wanted to get back on the bus as quickly as possible, as the skies had darkened overhead, signaling that a torrential downpour was well on its way.

Read more about the tour:
1. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part I: Dude, where’s your Geiger counter?
2. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part II: Liquidators Memorial / Kopachi / Catfish / Reactor 4
3. Dispatches from Chernobyl, Part III: The ghosts of Pripyat

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“Stay off the moss. Very radioactive.”

We were standing on another bridge outside the city of Pripyat, this time surveying the lush green landscape below, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rampaging packs of wild boar that were apparently proliferating throughout the exclusion zone – or so our guide claimed. We didn’t see any.

No boar, but lots of radioactive moss

The road to Pripyat

You are now entering Pripyat, Population: 0

Founded in 1970, Pripyat was a model Soviet city built for the Chernobyl plant workers and their families. It contained all the conveniences that a young Soviet family could desire: high-rise apartment buildings, schools, a cultural center, hospital, swimming pools, theatres, stores, restaurants, cafes, playgrounds, and a stadium. On the morning of April 26, the citizens of Pripyat awoke to the sound of helicopters buzzing overhead and a column of smoke rising from reactor four off in the distance. At noon on April 27, the Soviet government informed the citizens of Pripyat that they had two hours to gather their essential belongings and board a bus for mandatory evacuation. They were told that their evacuation was only temporary, for perhaps three days at the most, and so the residents left most of their clothing, photographs, toys, and family pets behind. The 50,000 citizens departed Pripyat on a line of Kiev-bound buses that stretched for miles, all of them expecting to see their hometown again in just a few days. They would never return.

Today, the entrance to the town is guarded by an officer who sits in a run-down shack for hours, waiting for the occasional town visitor. After exchanging a few words with our guide, and checking papers, he waved us into the “ghost city.” We entered the city on the main road, Prospekt Lenina, now lined with crumbling apartment buildings and overgrown trees, and stopped in the center of the city. Our guide was content to let us wander around on our own, with the caveat that we stay out of the buildings (”for your own safety”) and away from the apparently highly radioactive moss. It was hard to avoid the latter, as the stuff was growing in huge swaths throughout the city, so you would often see us hopping from concrete patch to concrete patch, employing a variety of run-and-jump tactics. I’m surprised I didn’t come back from Pripyat with a sprained ankle.

Prospekt Lenina

Apartment building in the city center

Decorations for the May Day parade that never was

Cultural Palace “Energetik”

Restaurant

Theatre

Some of the things they left behind

Not even a nuclear ghost town is immune from graffiti

Apartment building and city center, pre-Chernobyl disaster (courtesy pripyat.com)

The same “All power to the Soviets” apartment building, now

Hotel Polissya, pre-Chernobyl disaster (courtesy pripyat.com)

Hotel Polissya, now

No more fruits and vegetables, just rusting refrigerators and shopping carts

Stay off the moss

At one point the group started to head toward the amusement park. Ryan and I had no idea where Laura went, so we backtracked to the cultural center and started shouting her name. I ran into our guide, who was looking quite bored with his surroundings. After doing this several times a week, it probably does get monotonous. He grinned at me and warned, “Stay with the group. We don’t want wild boars to find you alone.” My fear of stepping on a patch of radioactive moss was now replaced with that of being impaled by the radiation-coated tusks of an angry wild boar.

We eventually ran into Laura and continued past the cultural center until we arrived at the amusement park. Small and desolate, it is probably the most depressing amusement park you will ever come across. The park was scheduled to open on May 1, 1986, but fate intervened and the brand new rides were left to rust away, never once touched by the children of Pripyat.

Bumper cars

Ferris wheel

We probably spent an hour in Pripyat, wandering around this deserted city of 50,000. It was eerily silent, the only noises coming from the flies that constantly buzzed around, the sound of digital cameras taking hundreds of photos, and, at one point, a loud crash that reverberated across the empty buildings. I will admit that walking through Pripyat was, at times, both unsettling and voyeuristic. I felt that I really had no right to be there, but on the other hand, if given the chance, I would have stayed there for hours.

Happier times – Pripyat Pioneer camp, 1985 (courtesy pripyat.com)

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