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How one of the best baristas in Mariupol lost everything and managed to start a new life in Dnipro

Eight years ago, thousands of city residents went downtown. They held placards “Don’t touch Mariupol,” “Russians come to your senses,” “You have tanks, and we have vyshyvankas,” “Hands off Mariupol.” Then they brought a kilometer-long banner, cut it into small flags and gave them to schools and museums.

The evil neighbors did not listen. They have attacked, killed, destroyed, left a shadow of the past.  Bright past, which in recent years has turned into a European nook on the shores of the Sea of ​​Azov. Now, when the beast has taken over everything around, death walks those streets, mocks the living, shouts: “Welcome to the Russian world!”

Those who did not want to see that and had the opportunity – left. Today they are scattered all over Europe. It is quiet, safe, comfortable there. Many stayed in Ukraine. And although it is harder for them – the same territory of war, risks of shelling, pulsating information nerve – they feel almost at home. Especially if they do something that connects people, gives them energy every morning, makes them smile, and sets them up for a new day. Sometimes for a new life.

“Hey, I know you. Can you tell me how?” “Of course, you do. I made you a latte in Mariupol. And now I’m herding sheep.” Such a strange conversation took place in the village of Chereshneve near Mariupol. It was March 2022. At that time, the first convoys of cars began to leave the Russian-destroyed Mariupol toward Fedorivka, Temriuk – to Zaporizhzhia. The journey wasn’t easy. From time to time, the occupiers blocked the highway, and people had to seek shelter in nearby villages. One of the best Mariupol baristas lived in one of those villages.

Volodymyr watched the enemy destroy his city, 50 km away from the epicenter of the events, but that did not make the pain any less.

He had lived in Mariupol all his life. His children grew up here. In Mariupol, 19 years ago, Volodymyr started his first business. And 15 years ago, he opened a small chain of tea and coffee shops and did it with such love that everyone who came to his shop could feel it.

“It’s our family business. We had our concept of a “family store”. A person comes in – you smile at them, say hello. They don’t want to buy anything, just to look, to check out the prices? Fine! Give them a small gift – tasting coffee or tea. No one ever left our store without a gift. That tradition made our establishments special,” says Volodymyr.

Probably, that is why there were customers who bought tea and coffee only there for many years in a row.

“My favorite clients are demanding, choosy clients. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to deal with them, but I liked them most. For example, I had a customer in Mariupol who came to our store for 15 years in a row, always buying Ceylon highland tea. I knew everything she liked,” recalls Volodymyr.

It was a settled, very happy life.

“Every morning I woke up, drank coffee. I got into my favorite Citroen and drove my kids to school. Then I made for the store. People were already waiting for me there. I greeted everyone, talked to them, made coffee for them… I was very happy in that rhythm.”

But on February 24, 2022, all that established rhythm collapsed. Volodymyr was at home, fast asleep, when a friend called him: “Did you hear the explosions? Don’t you know what it is?” Volodymyr opened the news feed and read the terrible news – the war had broken out.

“It got scary. On that day, we did not open the stores, let the staff go. My son kept saying: “Dad, let’s take out the stores.” And I didn’t believe in war. I didn’t want to do anything.

I went to the supermarket, bought some food just in case. The next day, February 25, I decided to go to the Kalmius district. I had cakes stored there. I thought I would at least give them to my friends. And suddenly a friend calls me. He was a police officer, and says: “Volodya, you’d better leave the city. It may happen that you won’t be able to leave later.”

My wife and I decided to do what he said. I went to give out cakes to my friends knowing that I had to say goodbye. I give a cake and say to everyone: “Go away! We have to go!” But none of them left. Luckily, they’re all alive, they left in March. Now they call me and say they were very angry with me. I ask: “Why? I warned you.” And they: “Because you didn’t put the screws on us and didn’t make us leave Mariupol.”

On the evening of February 25, Volodymyr and his family left for the village of Chereshneve near Mariupol. This is a village where a family friend Yuriy, who keeps a large farm together with his son Artur, lives. So, Volodymyr retrained from a barista to a farmer. He helped on the farm, herded sheep. He grew a beard. That was when his former customer saw him. At first, she didn’t recognize Volodymyr in that very unusual image and lifestyle.

“When the first convoys left Mariupol on March 13, some people had to seek overnight accommodation in the villages of Temryuk, Fedorivka, and Chereshneve. My friend and I helped, received people, and accommodated them.

And talked…

That’s how, from people, we learned that Mariupol no longer existed.

In fact, I guessed that. Russians were setting up their rocket launchers nearby and barraging Mariupol. We saw a glow of light over the city. My wife asked me what was going on, but I didn’t want to tell her. But then people started coming, and it became obvious – Mariupol was gone. After that, the only good news for me was to call my friends and find out that they were alive. Kyivstar worked very poorly, and we had to climb several kilometers up to get a connection.”

On March 24, Volodymyr’s family left the village and moved on towards Zaporizhzhia. It was clear that there would be no quick return home, so they had to think about the kids, where they could study, etc.

“Yura persuaded me to stay. But kids should have some perspective. Artur, my friend’s son, left with us. We were worried. They checked him very closely at the checkpoints. But everything was okay.

By the way, we experienced some cognitive dissonance, when the Russians at the checkpoints gave juices and candies to our kids. How could it be? They destroy lives, kill people, reduce to ruins the whole city – and they give them candy. It made no sense.”

The family came first to Zaporizhzhia, then to Dnipro. They actually lost everything they had because they could not take their business out of Mariupol.

“We had some savings, but they were not sufficient to start everything from scratch. People helped us, good people we met on our way. You know, my friend, priest Roman Peretiatko, often stopped by my place in Mariupol for coffee. And now he works at the volunteer hub in Dnipro. He met me in Dnipro and said: “You treated me to coffee, and now I will feed your family.” And he started helping us with food.

Edward Pogasyan, just an amazing person, accommodated us in a house at a water sports base in Dnipro. He helped us find an apartment where we can live and pay only for utilities. Children are studying. The eldest son even won a boxing competition in Dnipro. It would seem that everything is fine. But you know…

I don’t know how to explain it better. We all live here with Mariupol in mind. We compare everything around with it. And Mariupol wins in this comparison. Only when you lose it, you begin to understand what your home really was.

We all have our sorrows. I miss my friends, my job which I greatly enjoyed, and my clients, many of whom have been with me for years. My son misses his teacher Victoria Petrivna Bocharova very much. She taught him Ukrainian language and literature and was not just a teacher, but a true friend for the boy. He just dreams of going back to her class.

But still, it’s not a drama for me. My family and friends are alive. That is why it is not a drama. I try to perceive everything that is happening only as a change in the situation.”

Volodymyr says that perhaps he could allow himself to fall into sadness and despair, but the children force him to move forward. That is why he began to look for opportunities to return to his own business.

“Dnipro offers a wealth of opportunities. I did a little research and concluded that the demand far exceeds the supply here. That’s why local businessmen don’t bother. They do not worry about service, because they understand that a client will find them anyway.

That’s why when you come to a coffee shop in Dnipro and ask about certain characteristics that a desired coffee should have, they either can’t advise you or offer you a completely wrong thing.

I started looking for a place where I could open my own shop and start work like we did in Mariupol. But either the rent is too high or the premises are in a bad location.

I thought that was a dead end, a futile business, and I should look for another kind of work, when Kyrylo Dolimbayev called me and offered cooperation.

Kyrylo Dolimbayev is a well-known volunteer in Mariupol. For two years he worked on the restoration of the Church of Petro Mohyla of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine. Thanks to his efforts, the church was decorated with the unique Petrykivka painting and entered the Book of Records of Ukraine. The largest modern library of Ukrainian books in Mariupol, a bandura school and school of Ukrainian embroidery worked at the church.

Unfortunately, the russian occupiers destroyed most of these works and burned the library. However, Kyrylo Dolimbayev decided to temporarily revive Mariupol in Dnipro, so that when the time comes, there will be people ready to return and they will not return with empty hands.

“Now everyone is helping Ukraine a lot, including Mariupol. However, international support will not be endless. Someday it will end, and until then we need to have a business that can work and restore the Ukrainian economy,” says Kyrylo.

One of the strategic goals of his volunteer work in Dnipro is to help Mariupol business restart in a new location.

He offered a free space “Little Mariupol” to Volodymyr as a platform for business recovery.

“One of the best baristas in Mariupol can start his business with the help of “Little Mariupol.” It’s good. It’s symbolic for our city. And it’s beneficial for Dnipro, because Volodymyr not only starts to make coffee for Dnipro residents, but also has legalized his business and will pay taxes to the local budget. And he will channel part of the profit to social projects and assistance to the army. This is how business should act in a country at war,” Dolimbayev stresses.

Together, they invested money in the equipment for the coffee shop “From Mariupol with love”, which became part of the free space. And they started working.

Already in the first days of work, things that seem quite natural in Dnipro proved to be very surprising to those who were driven there by the war. 

First, the prices. The Mariupol businessman set the Mariupol prices for coffee. He considers them economically reasonable. But customers who come for coffee say such low prices are unnatural for Dnipro. They are used to the fact that Dnipro is one of the most expensive cities in the country, and they see some trick in low prices.

Second, the tradition of “suspended coffee” is not well developed in Dnipro. This tradition is very popular in Lviv, Kharkiv, it developed in Mariupol, but not in Dnipro. People do not understand how it works and everything has to be explained to them.

“It’s a little surprising because it’s a good method for extending a business. It helps people feel important by helping others. And it seems to me that this should be developed,” Volodymyr believes.

Already in the first days of work, things that seem quite natural in Dnipro proved to be very surprising to those who were driven there by the war. 

First, the prices. The Mariupol businessman set the Mariupol prices for coffee. He considers them economically reasonable. But customers who come for coffee say such low prices are unnatural for Dnipro. They are used to the fact that Dnipro is one of the most expensive cities in the country, and they see some trick in low prices.

Second, the tradition of “suspended coffee” is not well developed in Dnipro. This tradition is very popular in Lviv, Kharkiv, it developed in Mariupol, but not in Dnipro. People do not understand how it works and everything has to be explained to them.

“It’s a little surprising because it’s a good method for extending a business. It helps people feel important by helping others. And it seems to me that this should be developed,” Volodymyr believes.

Anna Murlykina, Dnipro-Mariupol

29.06.2022

Article is prepared within the project “Countering Disinformation in Southern and Eastern Ukraine” funded by the European Union.