After spending a night in Yalta to conduct some interviews along the Black Sea, our six-member media team packed back into the eight-passenger van to head to the airport. As we approached the Simferopol airport to catch a flight back to Kiev, Ukraine, we couldn’t help but notice the partially-constructed, brick dwellings dotting the horizon. When we pulled off the road beside a green army tent surrounded by several of these small brick structures, we stepped out of the van to hear the story of the Crimean Tatar people. We suddenly found ourselves standing in a small huddle, surrounded by those who inhabited the tent, and we listened as they shared with us the plight of their people.
During World War II, the Crimean Tatars were suspected of aiding the Germans and deported to central Asia and other parts of the former Soviet Union. On May 18, 1944, more than 200,000 Crimean Tatars were forced from their homes and transported by boxcar across the former Soviet Union. Many Crimean households had family members serving in the Soviet Army; and yet, the government still considered them Nazi sympathizers. Stalin’s regime confiscated their property and forced them to make a journey that nearly half did not survive. Although they were granted permission to return to their homeland in 1968, the government offered no restitution.
Standing in the midst of a group of Crimean Tatars, I listened as they explained their plans to rebuild their nation. Although the Ukrainian government officially owns the ground on which we stood, the Crimean Tatars have returned to reclaim and rebuild their homeland.
“Someday, we’ll celebrate weddings here,” one of the Crimean men explained. He went on to tell us they would soon construct a village on the property that was once rightfully theirs in the eyes of the government.
Something about this brief encounter left me wishing I could have spent more time listening to their stories. Theirs is a story that needs to be told. In my line of work, I frequently hear stories of injustice and heartache. But no matter how many tear-filled stories I listen to, or how many pained expressions I witness, I am always sobered by the encounter.
During World War II, the Crimean Tatars were suspected of aiding the Germans and deported to central Asia and other parts of the former Soviet Union. On May 18, 1944, more than 200,000 Crimean Tatars were forced from their homes and transported by boxcar across the former Soviet Union. Many Crimean households had family members serving in the Soviet Army; and yet, the government still considered them Nazi sympathizers. Stalin’s regime confiscated their property and forced them to make a journey that nearly half did not survive. Although they were granted permission to return to their homeland in 1968, the government offered no restitution.
Standing in the midst of a group of Crimean Tatars, I listened as they explained their plans to rebuild their nation. Although the Ukrainian government officially owns the ground on which we stood, the Crimean Tatars have returned to reclaim and rebuild their homeland.
“Someday, we’ll celebrate weddings here,” one of the Crimean men explained. He went on to tell us they would soon construct a village on the property that was once rightfully theirs in the eyes of the government.
Something about this brief encounter left me wishing I could have spent more time listening to their stories. Theirs is a story that needs to be told. In my line of work, I frequently hear stories of injustice and heartache. But no matter how many tear-filled stories I listen to, or how many pained expressions I witness, I am always sobered by the encounter.
posted by Kristen at 1:21 PM
1 Comments:
I love you Kristen Hiller! It is so good to read about your travels and how the Lord is using you. I am so glad that you have found a family in Miami. :)
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