Waking The Dead – My Life On The Slovakia-Ukraine Border (The Lost Lands #23)

There comes a point in life when you understand that the places you visit have less to do with curiosity and more about who you really are. When I look back at the places I have traveled, I see something of myself in many of them. Travel has not just been a window into another world, it has reflected people, places, and events from my own life that live deep inside of me. Travelling in Eastern Europe has allowed me to revisit them and given new meaning to my life. Certain places seem to be part of a greater destiny.

Middle march – Border crossing between Mali Selmnetsi & Veľké Slemence

Footsteps – Catching Up To Myself
I have traveled to hundreds of historic sites across Eastern Europe out of innate curiosity and a search for understanding. At first, I thought those travels were done for the love of history. What could a place in Slovakia or Ukraine have to do with me personally? I have now come to realize those places held deeper meanings for me. In them, I was searching for some part of my past that had never been resolved. On the face of it, this seems rather absurd since I never had any overt connections to the places I visited. My ancestors came from Scotland not Slovakia. I had never met a single Ukrainian in my life before boarding a train from Krakow to Lviv. What I did have in Eastern Europe was spiritual ancestry. I see this clearly while planning a potential itinerary for visiting the lost lands of Historic Hungary.

Lately, I have realized It is no coincidence that I keep finding myself edging ever closer to borders. First at Satu Mare in northwestern Romania, and then to Berehove on the southwestern fringe of Ukraine. Now I find myself mentally straddling the border at Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi. One village divided against itself by an artificial border that forced it to become two separate entities. Bipolarity, split personality, dueling identities, this historic divide appeals to me. Families separated by a few hundred meters, an ethnic group separated from its homeland by a treaty, the border that binds everyone together by their wounds. I have come to recognize that Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi are different parts of me. They are a representation of one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. Those two villages fill the gaps in my heart. Through them flows the same blood headed in different directions. The itinerary for the lost lands has made me increasingly aware that I am following in others’ footsteps that are also my own. This is a return trip to places, people, and traumatic events in my past. You might say that I am chasing my tail. At Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi, I have managed to catch it.

Splitting the divide – Path between the Slovakia-Ukraine border

The Searchers – Hope Dies Last
Superficially, the itinerary for the lost lands would seem to have no direct correlation to my past. I did not grow up around anyone from Eastern Europe. All I knew about the region came from newspapers, magazines, television, and history books. That is why I fooled myself for far too long into thinking my fascination with the region stemmed from historical interest. The latter cannot be discounted. It is what first piqued my curiosity about the region, but that was only the beginning. Since then, I have gone further and deeper than I could have ever imagined. This is what brought me to an obscure point of division on the Slovakia-Ukraine border. It is so much a part of me that I can feel it. I am returning to a place I never left. Bridging this divide has taken most of my life. I managed to finally gain access by picking that lock from the inside.

The division of Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi is more than a geopolitical oddity, it is a metaphor for a large part of my life. In 1946, the border between Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union went into effect. The rupture that occurred has never been completely repaired. It never will. I know this feeling all too well. I was six years old when my father abandoned our family. I have spent much of my life searching to recover those losses. In some ways I have been successful. I later found a father figure who helped me correct the wayward course of my life. In this, I was as lucky as Veľké Slemence was when it ended up on the Slovak side of the borders. The inhabitants suddenly found themselves in the European Union. There was the promise of prosperity, Today, that prosperity is still lacking, but there is always hope. And as we all know, hope dies last. My father figure died a decade ago, but the dreams he developed in me still live on. Just before he died, I said my goodbyes. Somehow, he has never gone away. For that I am eternally grateful. The only tears worth crying at this point are ones of joy.

Border patrol – A man on the Slovakia-Ukraine border

Sharing The Unspeakable – “I Cannot Keep Doing This”
As for my biological father, he was always on the other side of that great divide. Close at hand and untouchable. His evasions and indifference were just as menacing as the gun toting guards that manned the watchtower looming over Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi. Like those guards, my father smoked a million cigarettes. Unlike them, he smoked his family down to the filter. The handful of times we saw one another over the final thirty-five years of his life were awkward and brief. Much like the meetings where those from Mali Selmentsi made increasingly rare journeys to see family members in Veľké Slemence.

Staring into a stranger’s eyes with which you share the unspeakable is incredibly painful. A thought forms, but the words never come out. “I cannot keep doing this?” The difference between us and them is too much history. Long ago I realized that some wrongs cannot be righted, and the missing will never be found. It has now been over a decade since my father died. There was a sense of finality and unreality. That is how the inhabitants of Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi must have felt when the border finally opened in 2005. The past could finally be put to rest. If only that were true.

Click here for: An Invisible Line – Hidasnemeti (The Lost Lands #24)

Bargains On The Border – A Small Fortune In Mali Selmentsi (The Lost Lands #22)

Heads you win, tails you lose. That is how it must have felt to the inhabitants of Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi. Their lives were decided by the geopolitical equivalent of a coin flip. Since 1946, when the border officially went into effect, those who lived in Veľké Slemence on the Slovakia/Czechoslovakia side of the border have generally been better off than those in Mali Selmentsi on the Ukraine/Soviet Union side. Whether the governments they lived under were totalitarian communist or democratic capitalist this was the case. Slovakia’s accession to the European Union continued this trend. Those living in Mali Selmentsi seemed to be out of luck. This was not the first time.

Most of those who live in the village are ancestors of ethnic Hungarians orphaned from their homeland by the Treaty of Trianon. Hungarians in Ukraine are the poorest of those left in the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders. Ukraine – war or no war with Russia – is economically underdeveloped compared to European Union member states. Earning a living has never been easy in Ukraine no matter the economic and political system. Ethnic Hungarians had an economic lifeline when the Hungarian government began issuing them passports after the current ruling government came to power in 2010. This gave them access to the rest of Europe. Many of them left Ukraine. Some of those who did not in Mali Selmentsi became involved in an improbable lucrative enterprise selling consumer goods at a deep discount. For the first time in forever, a small fortune could be made in Mali Selmentsi. The village turned into a shopping outlet for the remoter reaches of Eastern Europe.

Going shopping – Pedestrian border crossing between Slovakia and Ukraine in Veľké Slemence (Credit: barrysborderpoints)

Fathomless Vanity – Shop Til You Drop  
One of the more lamentable evolutions of the American consumer experience was from shopping malls to outlet malls. The latter are basically super-sterilized shopping malls consisting of standalone outlet stores selling brand name goods at bargain prices. In America, outlet malls attract two types of consumers. One is the shop until you droppers who spend small fortunes just because they can. Their passion is bags full of merchandise destined to be tucked away in the corners of walk-in closets. The second type are those engaged in an exercise to satisfy their fathomless vanity. Name brands act as calling cards. Getting these at a discount outlet allows the mediocre to move up in the world of subpar fashion while having plenty of spare credit card debt to spend on ever more materialism. When the history of America is written after its decline and fall, I am certain that there will be a section on outlet malls to represent just how vapid American consumerism had become. This crass materialism is something that America has exported to the rest of the world. It has seeped into all corners of the globe, including the remotest reaches of Eastern Europe. That outlet stores would turn out to be a force for good in Mali Selmentsi is just as improbable as it is incredible.

Mali Selmentsi’s bad fortune began in 1946, when it was cut off from Veľké Slemence by the Soviet Union- Czechoslovakia border. Being part of the Stalinist Soviet Union with an almost entirely ethnic Hungarian population was one of the worst positions any place could find itself in. The best that the few hundred inhabitants of Mali Selmentsi could do was lay low, hope to go unnoticed, and eventually be reconnected with its sister village across the border in Czechoslovakia. That dream took a long time to become reality. The two villages were divided by a wall, menacing border guards, and byzantine bureaucracy for sixty-one years. Finally in 2005, the border was breached by a crossing for pedestrians and cyclists. A decade after that an unprecedented opportunity arose due to of all things, Russia’s war on the other side of Ukraine. This would lead Mali Selmentsi down the path of capitalism. For once, being on the wrong side of the border turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

Material world – Outlet store in Mali Selmentsi (Credit: Kamil Czainski)

Profit Margins – The Material World
In 2014, Russia began its war against Ukraine by occupying Crimea and supporting separatist forces in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine. This sent inflation skyrocketing in Ukraine and made life more difficult for Ukraine’s already economically embattled citizens. At the same time, this made most things in Ukraine cheap for foreigners. I learned this through first-hand experience. In December 2014, I spent a couple of nights at the historic Hotel George in Lviv’s city center for the equivalent of fifty dollars. I was even given a full breakfast to go when I left for an early departure on my final morning in the city. My meals and transport on that journey were ridiculously cheap by western standards. I could hardly believe the difference in prices when compared with a visit I had made to Lviv just four years earlier.

Some entrepreneurial types in Mali Selmentsi spied an opportunity with the skyrocketing inflation in Ukraine. It made consumer products there much cheaper than they were across the border in Slovakia or anywhere else in Europe. The area in Mali Selmentsi, just past the border checkpoint, soon became lined with shops selling some of the most fashionable name brand goods found in the west. The Slovak who wanted to wear Prada was in luck. They found affordable Gucci handbags, and other world-famous fashion brands available at the deepest of discounts. Shopping trips to the border suddenly became popular. The sleepy border crossing between Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi, where previously less than a hundred people passed through each day, now had a thousand people pouring over the border to sate their appetite for gaudy and glamorous consumer products. Mali Selmentsi had as many as 70 outlet stores offering everything from high end perfumes, wedding dresses, and that ultimate guilty pleasure, cigarettes. 

At a discount – Ukraine sign at border checkpoint to enter Mali Selmentsi
(Credit: barrysborderpoints)

Selling Out – The Vagaries of War
Some enterprising Slovaks and other foreigners who traveled to Mali Selmentsi had their own profit motives in mind. They could purchase high end products inexpensively and sell them further west at a considerable markup. Meanwhile, the merchants in Mali Selmentsi made their own small fortunes. This was the first time since the early 20^th century that anything approaching prosperity came to the village. The outlet mania has now subsided. Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 turned everyone’s focus fully to the war. Ukraine is now in survival rather than sales mode. One day the war will end, and shoppers could return to cross the border. It does not seem likely, but neither did Mali Selmentsi becoming a minor mecca of outlet shopping.

Click here for: Waking The Dead – My Life On The Slovakia-Ukraine Border (The Lost Lands #23)

Long-Distance Relationship – A Marriage of Inconvenience at Veľké Slemence (The Lost Lands #21)

Hungarians like to say that they are the only nation which borders itself. This is in reference to the Treaty of Trianon leaving millions of ethnic Hungarians outside the country’s current borders. Never has this oft repeated saying seemed so true then a story I discovered while researching the divided village of Velke Slemence. On one side of the border were ethnic Hungarians, and on the other side of the border were ethnic Hungarians. One very unlucky Hungarian girl had been visiting her grandmother on the Soviet side when the border was sealed in 1946. She was unable to get back home and ended up staying with her grandmother. When she was about to get married, the girl had to stand in her wedding dress in Mali Selmentsi (the part of Veľké Slemence in the Soviet Union) where her family on the Czechoslovakia side of the border could see her. This tragic absurdity gave new meaning to the term long-distance relationship.

For almost sixty years, those who lived in Veľké Slemence and Mali Sementsi were separated by an impenetrable barrier. This barrier was the Czechoslovakia-Soviet Union border, then the Czechoslovakia-Ukraine border, and finally the Slovakia-Ukraine border. Those who lived in the two villages endured bizarre bureaucratic hurdles to cross from one side to the other. This required over 300 kilometers of travel to cover a distance of only 500 meters.  Geographical proximity made the division of family and friends excruciating. Because of geopolitics, the villages and their inhabitants were separated by a great deal of time, distance, and effort. They were close and yet so far away as they suffered from a unique form of separation anxiety induced by totalitarianism and paranoia. The upshot was an unsatisfactory situation defined by tragedy and bureaucratic artifice.  

The other side – Church in the village of Mali Selmentsi (Credit: Kamil Czainski)

Netherworld – The Hybrid Country
Border control is another country. It is neither the country a traveler is leaving, nor is it the country a traveler is about to enter. Border control is complex and contradictory. Consider that a traveler is not allowed to enter a country until they have shown the proper documentation, but they are already in that country or at least in that country’s jurisdiction. Officials at border control can detain the traveler and transport them to a holding cell until further notice. If that happens, the traveler is in the country they were trying to enter no matter whether they have a stamp in their passport book or not. How can a traveler not be in a country when they are already there? The answer should be self-evident. It is not. Anyone who has ever had to spend time being questioned by border control officers gets the distinct feeling that they are in a netherworld. This is not the country from which they came, and it is not quite the country they are trying to enter. It is a hybrid country unto itself. A pseudo-police state that controls the flow of people from one country to another. While this is necessary, it is also unlike anything a traveler is likely to encounter anywhere else.

If border control is another country, then what existed between Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi throughout the Cold War and beyond was another planet. Travel back and forth between the two villages was possible, but for those trying to do so it must have seemed like an impossible task. The bureaucracy was considerable and filled with absurdities. The process for getting from one side to the other led those who wanted to cross into a bureaucratic maze. For instance, a resident of Mali Selmentsi would first have to travel to the nearby city of Uzhhorod where they would apply for a visa. If their application was successful, they would then have to travel 80 kilometers to the nearest border crossing between the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia. Once allowed to cross the border, it would be followed by another 80-kilometer journey to Veľké Slemence. After visiting, they would turn around and do the same trip in reverse. 

Watching and waiting – Guard tower near Veľké Slemence (Credit: barrysborderpoints)

Keeping Quiet – The Great Divide
Bizarre bureaucratic procedures created hardship for family members on opposite sides of the border. Homes were broken and the community was divided. Though only a five-minute walk away from loved ones, residents of Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi were separated by what amounted to a lifetime. Children grew up, people grew old, and familiar figures became strangers. The entire time, the border stood impenetrable. Some people lived and died without ever knowing those who lived a stone’s throw from their homes. The officials administering the border could have cared less. Rules were rules. Disobeying them had extremely serious consequences. It could cost the offender their lives. Even so much as speaking to those on the other side could lead to arrest. Being within shouting distance did nothing to help. All forms of cross border communication were discouraged.

The locals developed unique forms of cross border communication. Singing songs was used to send messages. Notes were tucked beneath the wings of chickens who were then sent fluttering across the border. These ingenious forms of communication provided a brief respite from the loneliness and loss caused by division. If some of the methods used to circumvent border control sound ridiculous, they were no less ridiculous than the border’s construction in 1946. A house that bisected it was deemed in the way of regress and demolished. As for the homeowners, they had no say in the matter. Neither did anyone else in the villages. They were forced to take one side or the other. Not that the locals had any choice in the matter. Those building the wall were not going to listen and those who valued their lives knew better than to speak up. Keep quiet and carry on for decades on end was a survival strategy. 

Exit strategy – Leaving Veľké Slemence (Credit: barrysborderpoints)

Breaking Through – Beyond The Barriers
Difficulties still arose after the Iron Curtain collapsed and Czechoslovakia split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. The border between Veľké Slemence and Mali Selmentsi continued to be an impenetrable barrier until 2005 when a checkpoint allowing pedestrians and cyclists to cross was installed. This lasted only three years for the residents of Mali Selmentsi since they were in Ukraine and Veľké Slemence was in Slovakia which had joined the Schengen Zone as a member of the European Union. Ukrainian citizens needed visas to enter Slovakia, Slovakian citizens could enter Ukraine without one. Nine years later, Ukrainian citizens with biometric passports were allowed visa free entry for up to 90 days. That continues today, but for how long nobody knows. Division has proven more lasting than unity on this small stretch of the Slovakia-Ukraine border.

Click here for: Bargains On The Border – A Small Fortune In Mali Selmentsi (The Lost Lands #22)

Divide The Conquered – Caught In The Middle At Veľké Slemence (The Lost Lands #20)

Might makes right in totalitarian societies. Any citizen of one who values their life is unlikely to question such a doctrine because the consequences are likely to be dreadful in the extreme. The same goes for nations forced to negotiate with more powerful totalitarian governments making territorial demands. Might makes right sums up the position of Stalin’s Soviet Union when negotiating with the nations of Eastern Europe in the immediate aftermath of World War II. The Soviet Union could expand its borders at the expense of neighboring states. Hungary was in no position to complain. The country was forced back to the borders originally set for it by the Treaty of Trianon. This meant giving up southern Slovakia, northern Transylvania, and Vojvodina.

Each of those acquisitions had occurred due to Hungary’s alliance with Nazi Germany. The latter no longer existed, nor did the hard right wartime Hungarian government. The lost lands of Historic Hungary were gone forever. This left the lives of countless ethnic Hungarians in the merciless hands of the Soviets. Millions of people across Eastern Europe found themselves in a similar situation. In cities, towns, and villages, they waited to learn their fate. Borders were being redrawn with little regard for the inhabitants. One of the places where this occurred was at Veľké Slemence. Life there has never been the same.

Standing guard – Pedestrian crossing at Veľké Slemence/Mali Selmentsi on the Ukraine-Slovakia border (Credit: Spacekid)

Shifting Borders – New Lines In The Sand
The Stalinist Soviet Union was never known for its magnanimity. No one will ever mistake the Kremlin under Stalin’s rule as charitable. Generosity was in short supply, unlike cynicism. The Soviet Union was just as likely to give their fellow communist nations grief, as they were their enemies. Any country that disagreed with Soviet plans would be brought to heel at the point of a gun barrel. Following World War II, the Soviet Union was in a supremely powerful position throughout Eastern Europe. The Red Army and NKVD (precursor to the KGB) acted as a strong-arm occupation force. The Kremlin swallowed up sections of Eastern Europe to create a buffer zone. This was done to ensure that the Soviet Union would not suffer another invasion from the west.

Soviet insecurities had their roots in recent history.  In both World Wars, the German Army had surged deep into Russian/Soviet territory. Stalin was taking no chances in 1945. The Red Army was the might that would ensure Soviet demands were met. Those in the way were sure to find themselves in an untenable situation. This included the majority ethnic Romanian population in Bessarabia (present-day Moldova). The Soviet Union took the region back from Romania which had held it during the interwar period. Germans were pushed west of the Oder River.  Poles were shifted westward to occupy what had been eastern Germany prior to the war. This population transfer made way for the enlargement of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. The area is now western Ukraine.

Smaller countries like Czechoslovakia barely stood a chance when faced with Soviet territorial adjustments. They could either bend to the Kremlin’s will or be broken. In Transcarpathia, Czechoslovakia’s borders shifted westward as the region also became part of Ukraine. These new lines on the map could seem arbitrary when they did not align with facts on the ground. That was the case with Veľké Slemence. The village suddenly found itself bisected by the new border drawn to meet Soviet demands. This resulted in a divisive and nonsensical situation.

The other side – Bus stop in Mali Selminstsi on the Ukraine-Slovakia border
(Credit: Kamil Czainski)

Getting Territorial – Buffer Zones
There are many aspects of Eastern European history I find difficult to grasp. Changing borders during the 20^th century is one of them. In particular, the redrawn post-World War II borders. On a macro level, I understand that Soviet expansion westward was done for security purposes. On a micro-level, redrawn borders such as the one set between the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia that bisected Veľké Slemence do not make much sense. It is a minor footnote in the grand scheme of Soviet inspired territorial adjustments in Eastern Europe, but I find it a source of fascination. Two-thirds of the village stayed in Czechoslovakia, while the other third ended up in the Soviet Union and became the village of Mali Selmentsi.

Why separate the village from itself? Was this a case of divide and conquer? The village was so small that it begs the question of why bother. There was certainly suspicion of the ethnic Hungarian population which made up an overwhelming majority in the village. The paranoia of Stalin’s Soviet Union could be absurd. I seriously doubt that five hundred Hungarians are going to start a revolt. It seems more plausible that they would be upset over the division. This created a needless headache for all involved. That did not seem to matter. The Soviets imposed their vision on Veľké Slemence and the Czechoslovak government was left to deal with most of the fallout.

A couple of years after the border adjustment went into effect, Czechoslovakia became a communist state as Soviet backed Stalinists took control of the government. With like-minded governments running both Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union, border control should have been harmonized. This would have made it easier for those who lived in Veľké Slemence or Mali Selmentsi to travel back and forth across the border. That would not be the case until the 21^st century. In the meantime, the border was sealed. 

Road weary – Main Street in the village of Veľké Slemence (Credit: Kamil Czainski)

Switching Sides – Keeping An Eye On The Situation
Watchtowers, barbed wire, and trigger-happy border guards defined the Iron Curtain that divided Veľké Slemence. Meanwhile, the villagers got a sense of déjà vu on the Czechoslovak side of the border. They had been citizens of Czechoslovakia up until 1938. After an eight-year interlude, they were back there. Democratic Czechoslovakia no longer existed; it was as dead as Horthy-era Hungary. Hard line communism was the latest ideology. These changes must have perplexed the local population. They were living in the same country as earlier, but in name only. The same could not be said for their fellow villagers who were unlucky enough to find themselves east of the border in Mali Slemnetsi. They were citizens of Stalin’s Soviet Union, a prototypical totalitarian state. Everyone was under suspicion, especially ethnic minorities. Local border officials were tasked with keeping a close eye on the situation. It would be that way for decades to come.

Click here for: Long-Distance Relationship – A Marriage of Inconvenience at Veľké Slemence (The Lost Lands #21)