Roxolana

One of my main reasons for going to Ukraine was to do some hands on research for my novel about the early life of Roxolana (Alexandra Listowska) a Ukrainian girl who was taken as a slave in 1520 by the Tatars and ended up being the Sultana of the Ottoman Empire. She lived in Rohatyn, an hour south of Lviv.

As we drove towards Rohatyn, I took note of the rolling countryside. I imagined grassland and forests of long ago, but now it was pastures, fields and wooded areas. When we got to the first sign of the Lipa River I got out of the car to look at it. Much smaller than I expected. I can only think that it was mightier back then. It looked more like a creek or stream than a river. But I noted the trees hanging over like a canopy and that the greenery went right to the edge. It was deep enough that no rocks showed through and the water looked black.

Eugene phoned Orest Galan an American friend of my father-in-law who has retired in Rohatyn. He directed Eugene to his house. He was standing outside, holding a newspaper, plus he lived on the main street so he was easy to spot. He invited us inside and offered us coffee because our first appointment wasn’t for an hour. He showed us family photos and then it was time for our first appointment. Mr Galan got into the car with us and directed us to a house a few blocks away. In a few minutes, a retired govt official met with us. He is a Roxolana enthusiast and he has collected a vast amount of material on her, as well as info on other aspects of Rohatyn history. He went through his material one by one and then offered to photocopy the pertinent documents for us. Mr Galan noticed the time and said that we had another appointment at 1pm. It was 6 minutes to one. We sped out and headed for Holy Spirit Church. This is the wooden church that stands on the spot where Roxolana’s father’s church stood.

The foundations are the originals from the late 1400s – there is a person buried there right in front of the iconostasis, and her burial date is marked.

The church is now a muesum, and Tetiana, the museum guide, began to give us a canned lecture about the church. It took me six requests to finally get her off the loop and start answering real questions. Once she did, it got interesting. She let us go behind the iconostatis to see a painting that was being restored.

It is from the late 1400s. Then she asked if we’d like to see the tunnel under the church! Would we!!? Why yes! She flipped the rug in the main part of the church and lo and behold, a trap door.

When it opened there was a descent into blackness. She got us candles and Eugene stepped in first to help me down, then got out. I went down first and then he did. Six steep steps. Very dirty, dusty and somewhat scary. She said that it used to be a network of tunnels connecting all of the churches and likely a tunnel out of town as well. Now the two doors leading in either direction were blocked up.

It felt good to get out of that hole, I must say. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were people buried down there. After all, the church is on a hill with terraced graveyards all around. Tetiana says that when someone new is buried they always find old bones. The lowest terrace of the graveyard backs onto the Lipa River, and like the part of the river that I had seen at the town entrance, it was canopied by trees. It was wider behind the church and there was a footbridge across the river at the front of the church.

Two things that struck me as unusual about this church: 1 – the bell tower was built into the church. Apparently it used to be separate but with erosion, it got too close to the river. Two: The priest’s house was across the road (kitty corner to the bridge) rather than on the church grounds. The way the river went and the terraced graveyard, there was no room for a house any closer than that.

Tetiana asked if we would like to see the bell tower. Why yes!! We climbed up the narrow wooden steps – three flights of them, and she demonstarated how to ring it. She said you want to make a rhythm and to never ring it just once because that would mean there had been a death. After she demonstrated, I did it.

It’s a lot harder to ring than you’d think. The bell is heavy. Then we rang it together.

I ran to the car and got her a book once we were finished the tour. She does speak halting English. She told me that she has family in Toronto and she gave me some brochures and cards from the church. I donated 200 hryvny to the church fund. I also gave Mr. Galan and Michael copies of Kobzar’s Children.

It was about 2:30 when we left the church and we had another appointment with Michael. He couldn’t photocopy the sheets because the copier was out of toner so he gave me his originals. I offered to photocopy them at home and mail them back, but he said, no, to keep them. He was just so thrilled to be helping me and to be getting the story of Roxolana out. We had lunch at about 3:30. I tried to pay, but Mr. Galan insisted. Then we walked around the centre square with Michael explaining the layout.

He also showed me the remnants of the town gate. Then we all got into the car and he showed me where the town wall would have been for the entire circumference of the city.

It was raining, but he wanted to show me the main cemetery. It started to rain hard just as we got back into the car. We dropped them both off at their homes and got onto the road for Lviv at something like 6:15. The roads were flooding with the torrential rain and it was hard to drive and hard to see. Got back to the apartment at about 8.