In 2014, when Russia began its hybrid war against Ukraine, and armed separatists annexed part of the Donbas, many elderly residents of the region could not come to terms with the collapse of the USSR. They continued to nostalgically yearn for the lost Union, associating modern Russia with that time. The militants exploited this sentiment, creating a totalitarian repressive machine in which people did not contest a system that was a relic of the Soviet Union.

In the spring of 2014, due to the war, I had to leave my home and move to Kyiv. I brought with me not only my belongings but also experiences, anxieties, and memories. In this new, unfamiliar place, I wanted it to feel like home, and I sought familiar elements around me. Every morning, a parked Moskvitch 412 from the neighbor would peek through the window of my rented apartment, a «hello» from the times of the USSR. The Soviet past and everything associated with it evoke a sense of rejection in me, as my childhood was spent in that system, but I do not feel nostalgia. The Moskvitch is associated in my mind with propaganda, repression, and poverty.

This car is a symbol of an era that still appears on the streets of post-Soviet cities. It became part of my new surroundings, like a system error «412 Precondition Failed,» indicating the cessation of access to the past. Although three decades have passed since the end of the Soviet era, many remnants of the past continue to exist.

For four years, the Moskvitch and I witnessed sunrises and sunsets; it became an integral attribute of my life. Time passed; everything around was breaking, collapsing, being built, and irrevocably changing, but one thing remained constant—the presence of the Soviet past.

Photo: Kiev 2014-2017