Were like sailors, one says. We dont get cold, we just turn blue. He coughs out a phlegmy smokers laugh. Its unclear whether hes speaking about the film crew or the activists. When I ask if he stood with their people on the Maidan, they answer, We didnt stand… we helped. In the corner of the tent, a sleeping cossack jerks awake, spills coke on his leather boots. On Sunday night at dusk, the Maidan is much more busy than it was on Saturday morning. Bottlenecks at every barricade entrance and exit; a young man patrolling one of the throughways to Hrushchevsko plays his broom and a stick at his post, urging people to move quickly, to the rhythm. On Yevropeyska Square, about 200 people with metal rods, shovels, and pick axes are diligently clearing the square of ice or else carrying full bags to the Dim to make a new barricade... The Dim is being transformed into another indoor base: only volunteers are being let in with bags of food, cleaning supplies, mattresses and mats, blankets, warm clothes, etc., at least until its ready/safe. In the Dims theatre, an activist takes a break to play Yann Tiersen on the piano. He doesnt bother to take off his front line gear.
Posted on: Mon, 27 Jan 2014 02:09:32 +0000