Living as Peasants
Written & Photographed by Pavel Kuljuk
September 21, 2026
Journalist Pavel Kuljuk, who lives in Kramatorsk, shares with The Saint his experiences in the midst of war.
At fifty, I have to start everything from scratch again. If I’m doing this, it means I’m not too old.
"Congratulations. You’ve become a landowner," my wife, Svetlana, wrote to me.
"That’s awesome! You should celebrate the occasion with your parents,” I replied. “Let the beer flow! Buy plenty of chips." My hunt for property took an unexpected turn after Vasilina Shargu read about the ordeal in my last column. She decided to sell me her own land, which is located in the village of Petrivka, near the town of Chop. The price is the same as the previous plot: $2,000. It’s incredible! You only get lucky like this once in a lifetime. Price matters, of course, but so does location.
Petrovka is a small village with a traditional, old-fashioned way of life. It has a population of around 400 people and two churches. The locals raise cows and garden. It’s a way of life that’s familiar and pleasing to me.
"Many people have left or passed away,” Vasilina told me. “There are empty houses, and we need active residents." She then asked, "Are you an active person?"
"Oh, yes. I enjoy agriculture and small villages,” I replied. “You know, I could leave Kramatorsk if I came to love Petrovka. Your decision to sell me a plot of land at an affordable price gave me the push to move forward. I’m thinking about what I can do for Petrovka."
Let me be frank. At first, I wasn't prepared for things to turn out this way. It’s one thing to dream of buying a plot of land and to go looking for one. It’s quite another to actually own the land and become a member of a small rural community. However, my years of experience as a journalist helped me adapt to this new reality. "I might not turn out to be a good neighbor to everyone," I told myself, "but I can be a journalist for this village."
Svetlana with her mother, Larisa, at the railway station.
After deciding to go through with the deal, I sent Svetlana and her parents to Transcarpathia. It was a dramatic seven-day journey. My relatives traveled on trains passing through stations that had been destroyed. The trains were delayed by five hours or more, and my family had to spend several nights sleeping in train stations. At one point, Svetlana’s mother fell ill, and Svetlana had to call an ambulance for her. My relatives were amazing. They endured a grueling journey, successfully closed the deal and returned to Kramatorsk. This shared undertaking greatly strengthened our family ties.
But while they were en route, the situation in Kramatorsk deteriorated sharply once again. From Monday to Friday, we had internet, mobile service and electricity for only five hours in total. Water was available for a slightly longer period. Unable to work as a journalist, I spent a lot of time in the garden, watering plants and weeding. Gardening is a good way to calm one’s nerves, and that’s a good thing because there are serious reasons to be anxious. I realize that normal life in Kramatorsk is over. Even if internet and mobile services are restored, they’ll likely be cut off again soon. Conditions aren’t suitable for doing journalism. We need to leave.
But the cost of renting a home is very high. I spent almost all my money on the plot of land. So, my options for renting decent housing are limited. Right now, we have to look for a rental and try to survive in Kramatorsk. I managed to store a small supply of water before the mains were cut off. We have 80 gallons and a stockpile of firewood for the iron stove. We cook using the wood and wash ourselves once every few days. We go to sleep when it gets dark. And instead of making phone calls, we visit each other in person to share news. It all feels like the life of peasants several centuries ago.
Church in the village of Petrovka.
Hostilities have drawn closer. An excavator dug a huge trench in the field next to our street. This was done to prevent Russian sabotage and reconnaissance groups from infiltrating the city. The day before yesterday, we heard the distant sounds of a firefight. There was machine-gun and automatic-rifle fire, along with exploding grenades. It happened at night. Official authorities didn’t announce the cause of the incident.
The selection of goods at the nearest shop has deteriorated. The saleswoman said that many suppliers have stopped delivering food to our city because it's become too dangerous. Yesterday, I couldn't buy bread or drinking water. Only two pharmacies are operating in our part of the city, and there are long lines of customers. Svetlana wanted to save time by ordering medication online, but that service has stopped working here. Ukrainian soldiers shot down a Russian drone over Svetlana's parents' house and the wreckage damaged their roof. The incident was so loud their dog even stopped coming out of its kennel.
Amidst this hell, we try to find small joys. Beyond the purchase of the plot, the modest harvest from our garden provides us with moral support. For the first time, we managed to grow melons. We’ve already eaten one. It was delicious, though small. We had a good peach harvest this year, and all the flowers bloomed beautifully. Yet, it’s painful to look at the garden knowing we’ll have to abandon it. Perhaps we’ll manage to prep the garden for winter and dig over the beds.
Frying chicken on a metal stove.
Our plan is to leave Kramatorsk as soon as we find a rental property. It’s unlikely that we’ll all go together. Most likely, Svetlana and her parents will leave first, and I’ll follow. We’d prefer to rent a place in Transcarpathia, near the plot of land we own, but if absolutely necessary, we’ll rent a property anywhere. The main thing is finding something that’s affordable.
Our primary reason for leaving is the lack of utilities and communications. As I’ve said before, we leave the city whenever these problems arise. For the past two weeks, I haven't been able to work as a journalist. I’m rushing to write this report now while there’s still internet and electricity. Deep down, I feel a sense of regret that the Kramatorsk chapter is coming to an end. But there’s hope that the story in Petrovka will be a good one!
