The Potemkin Steps and the Story of Pesach by Johanna Cervenka Petersson

Johanna Cervenka Petersson is a member of the progressive community Shir Hatzafon in Copenhagen, reflecting on her recent visit to Odessa and its links with the message of Pesach.

In early February I had the opportunity to study Russian in Odessa, Ukraine. As war rages in the country and Odessa itself is being attacked whilst we are about to celebrate Pesach, I think of all the ordinary extraordinary people I met.

There were rumblings of war, soldiers on the border and it was eerily familiar of the summer of 2008 when, as a journalist, I covered the war in the republic of Georgia.

I was expecting an empty flight from Warsaw to Odessa and a somber mood, but I met the boisterous summer capital of Ukraine, resting in a winter slumber. 

Odessa and its inhabitants, the Odessities, have their own character. A particular sense of humour and style of jokes. The city even celebrates 1st of April as its own holiday with a big parade. A port city, many different nationalities have claimed it as theirs, and, at the end of the 19th century it boasted the 3rd largest Jewish population in the world. 

In the face of a looming war continuing with work, school, partying seemed to be an act of defiance in Odessa. There were tensions, preparations and definitely fears that neighbours would turn to enemies in the chaos of war. But Ukraine had lived with unrest since 2014 and, all in all, life continued. At the opera, now clad in sandbags, the cast performed The Firebird, the famed ballet by Tchaikovsky. The students hung out at the cafes, the club kids in one of the many night clubs. 

My Russian teacher, Marina, and I bonded over a shared love of artists´ backyards and architecture. I met her daughter on her way to basketball practice. I shared my eldest son’s love of the game. 

Over a delicious orange cappuccino at the Atelier coffee house I met Julia Gris, the rabbi heading the city’s progressive congregation Shirat ha-Yam. She shared her love of  her adopted city with its humour, imperfections and rich history.  Sharp, warm and funny, just like Odessa.  I met her daughter who, like so many other youngsters, was hanging out in one of the many cafes with her friends after school.

Rabbi Julia took me to the city’s famed Potemkin Steps, overlooking the harbour. ”There is an optical illusion, standing on the bottom of them you see only the small steps upwards, your struggles, seemingly endless.  Standing at the top you see only the landings, your accomplishments and the steps, the struggles become invisible. Isn’t it great?" 

The story of Pesach is a story of liberation from slavery; of freedom. But it is also a story of fleeing, of becoming one of many; a refugee.  To remember that things can change so quickly, to see ourselves fleeing, and I think of all the people I met in Ukraine, with their extraordinary ordinary lives now being uprooted and hoping that they soon can see only the landings in their own steps of life.  

In Ukraine 3.4 million people (half of which are estimated to be children) have been forced to leave their homes. My Russian teacher Marina has fled to the Netherlands with her children leaving behind her mother and husband. Rabbi Julia and her daughter have fled too. 

There are now metal 'hedgehogs' to stop tanks in the streets. But when I think of Odessa, I remember how still in early February, Rabbi Julia and I walked to the city´s main drag ulitsa Deribasovskaya.  ”We like tourists but in the summer time” and she points at our feet ”you can’t see the street for all the people.  It is really when the city shows it´s true character.  You should come back then, there’s so much you haven’t seen”. 

I promised I would be back soon.