Nata
"Then a shocking and dreadful moment came when I realised that I was unable to do anything..."
Nata
"Then a shocking and dreadful moment came when I realised that I was unable to do anything..."
Nata Holava is a cinema professional; she specialises in film directing, practices dance and music. Dancing is one of her favourite occupations and a tool for keeping her mental state in order. She still cannot reel from the brutal dispersals of protesters in August, many of which she saw with her very eyes from her balcony in Barysau. More than three months have already passed, but Nata cannot get back to dancing. According to her, dancing is joy, but going through hard times, she shies away from feeling exhilarated.
I was born in Barysau, the largest regional centre in Minsk region, I still live here. During the peaceful protests in Belarus, it turned out to be extremely difficult to live 'not in Minsk' but in its polar opposite, in a quiet town 'where nothing ever happens'.
It was a bit hard to see the lack of representation of our struggle in mass media. Frankly speaking, I was trying to remedy the situation for a very long time — I filmed everything I could, I posted like crazy, especially during the first post-election days when the Internet was practically down. I wanted everyone to know about us, I wanted the country to know more about the developments in Barysau, because popular news portals mainly focused on the events in big cities, and you [a resident of a small town] felt as if your contribution was not so significant.
I also find it dificult to live there because of the environment and the general oppressiveness. You may be burning with a desire to do something, protests, flags, struggle may be on your mind and in your soul, but the rest is silence. When Raman Bandarenka was murdered, mourning was [unofficially] declared. The mourners were supposed to stand still and hold a moment of silence at 12 pm; they were also asked to put a candle on the windowsill at 9 pm. Although I was sick, I went out onto my balcony at noon. And so what? I saw people walking and carrying their shopping bags, some men pulling suitcases, someone staring at his phone, cars driving by. Looking at them, I thought: „People, where do you live? What is going on? Why?" The same goes for the candle action — there was no feeling of togetherness and massive involvement at all. I lit a candle, so did one of my acquaintances living in the street nearby. She told me: "I put it on, but I seemed to be the only person in the whole street who had that candle on the windowsill." And I understand her, sometimes it really seems that all people around but you just do not care. And you do feel utterly discouraged.
And what is to be done with these people? What is to be done with the lack of initiative around you? After finishing school and graduating from my university, I have been involved in all kinds of cultural activities in the town since 2012, i.e. over eight years. Along the way, I realised that local people were ready to observe and show their interest, but they were not ready to actively participate. We even had a post in our dance community, something like 'How to stop looking at our photos in social networks and join us". That is, passively supporting people is OK for Barysau, but getting engaged in a process is something out of the ordinary.
And what is to be done with these people? What is to be done with the lack of initiative around you? After finishing school and graduating from my university, I have been involved in all kinds of cultural activities in the town since 2012, i.e. over eight years. Along the way, I realised that local people were ready to observe and show their interest, but they were not ready to actively participate. We even had a post in our dance community, something like 'How to stop looking at our photos in social networks and join us". That is, passively supporting people is OK for Barysau, but getting engaged in a process is something out of the ordinary.
The only thing that made me believe that not all was lost for the town was the very first protest march. Then one had a chance to 'safely' protest — there was not a single police officer in the town, not a single OMON riot policeman – all of them were sent to Minsk!
It was August 16, the first Sunday after three days of the violent clashes. The whole town came out on that Sunday! Well, speaking of the 'whole town'... there must have been about 3,000 persons, maybe more. It was then that I saw so many people – completely different people — taking to the streets when they got such an opportunity. I ran into lots of friends of mine there! There was even my childhood playmate, a beefy businessman from St. Petersburg who returned to Belarus for some reason. Staring wide-eyed at the gathering, I understood that people were really fed up.
It was August 16, the first Sunday after three days of the violent clashes. The whole town came out on that Sunday! Well, speaking of the 'whole town'... there must have been about 3,000 persons, maybe more. It was then that I saw so many people – completely different people — taking to the streets when they got such an opportunity. I ran into lots of friends of mine there! There was even my childhood playmate, a beefy businessman from St. Petersburg who returned to Belarus for some reason. Staring wide-eyed at the gathering, I understood that people were really fed up.
The only thing that made me believe that not all was lost for the town was the very first protest march. Then one had a chance to 'safely' protest — there was not a single police officer in the town, not a single OMON riot policeman – all of them were sent to Minsk!
It was August 16, the first Sunday after three days of the violent clashes. The whole town came out on that Sunday! Well, speaking of the 'whole town'... there must have been about 3,000 persons, maybe more. It was then that I saw so many people – completely different people — taking to the streets when they got such an opportunity. I ran into lots of friends of mine there! There was even my childhood playmate, a beefy businessman from St. Petersburg who returned to Belarus for some reason. Staring wide-eyed at the gathering, I understood that people were really fed up.
It was August 16, the first Sunday after three days of the violent clashes. The whole town came out on that Sunday! Well, speaking of the 'whole town'... there must have been about 3,000 persons, maybe more. It was then that I saw so many people – completely different people — taking to the streets when they got such an opportunity. I ran into lots of friends of mine there! There was even my childhood playmate, a beefy businessman from St. Petersburg who returned to Belarus for some reason. Staring wide-eyed at the gathering, I understood that people were really fed up.
It turns out that when it is safe to protest, when there is no fear for their lives, people are ready to go out, show something, express their opinion — and they do it!
Then it got even better. In the wake of protest marches, Lukashenka's zealous supporters ('yabatskas') became more active, they began to stage their own events in the main square, e.g. fairs on weekends. Usually crowds of people attend those weekend fairs; still, they are some kind of entertainment. But it hit me like a ton of bricks when I came to the square then and sąw no one, it was empty. There were only two plainclothed officers and two robust women selling grilled meat and alcoholic bevvies. The second day started, but locals failed to appear there! There was stillness, and only those aunties were sitting there, drinking beer and eating meat.
That is, if the town wants, it can take part in protests when it is safe, and the town is also able to give the cold shoulder. But for the life of me, even those two bright moments do not help me build a strong connection with the town. I cannot live on these rare cases of consolidation, my strength and resources are on the short side. All that I can do is to save myself and my loved ones who are now drowning in their depression.
That is, if the town wants, it can take part in protests when it is safe, and the town is also able to give the cold shoulder. But for the life of me, even those two bright moments do not help me build a strong connection with the town. I cannot live on these rare cases of consolidation, my strength and resources are on the short side. All that I can do is to save myself and my loved ones who are now drowning in their depression.
I sensed that it was a turning point and that I had a desire to get involved in the process, or rather I felt that there was no choice and I simply needed to be in even before the election and the brutal crackdown on protesters, in July, when Tsikhanouskaya, Kalesnikava and Tsapkala came to light. As soon as this trio appeared, I faced a sudden change. Previously, I had no intention of participating in the political movement at all; I did not even want to go to the polls. I could bet that nothing would change. My friends were collecting signatures — for Tsikhanouski, for Babaryka, but I did not care a button. I thought they [authorities] would never let anyone else win. But those three women, they became an icon of that turning point, as if the laws of nature finally began to work differently in our country. I cannot explain it, I have difficulty putting my feelings about that into words. This is what began to take place in Belarus at the same time everywhere, because they stepped out of the shade. And to be honest, I do not take a liking to any of them. I am even critical of Masha Kalesnikava. I do not like her rhetoric, I do not like her red lips, I do not like Svyatlana Tsikhanovskaya in the capacity of a politician. But for all that, the female trio launched my own inclusion process.
I was a bundle of nerves on August 9, the election day. I was in a very bad shape, being devoured by terrible anxiety. It is similar to taking a blood specimen from a finger. I hate this awful experience of someone's pressing on your nail plate. I always shrink, close my eyes and wait in horror for the needle's hit. And on that day in August, I was in the very state 'they are about to jab me', i.e. I anticipated the imminence of pain. I cast my ballot, then went to the square, met with my friends... And during all that time I was distressed, awaiting that 'needle stick'. And it happened.
I think back to that moment and realise that it was so difficult because I could not understand why they were doing that to us. When a health worker puts a needle into your finger in hospital, at least, you know the reason. And [on the election day] you got jabbed, but the question "What for?" remains unanswered.
I think back to that moment and realise that it was so difficult because I could not understand why they were doing that to us. When a health worker puts a needle into your finger in hospital, at least, you know the reason. And [on the election day] you got jabbed, but the question "What for?" remains unanswered.
I was a bundle of nerves on August 9, the election day. I was in a very bad shape, being devoured by terrible anxiety. It is similar to taking a blood specimen from a finger. I hate this awful experience of someone's pressing on your nail plate. I always shrink, close my eyes and wait in horror for the needle's hit. And on that day in August, I was in the very state 'they are about to jab me', i.e. I anticipated the imminence of pain. I cast my ballot, then went to the square, met with my friends... And during all that time I was distressed, awaiting that 'needle stick'. And it happened.
I think back to that moment and realise that it was so difficult because I could not understand why they were doing that to us. When a health worker puts a needle into your finger in hospital, at least, you know the reason. And [on the election day] you got jabbed, but the question "What for?" remains unanswered.
I think back to that moment and realise that it was so difficult because I could not understand why they were doing that to us. When a health worker puts a needle into your finger in hospital, at least, you know the reason. And [on the election day] you got jabbed, but the question "What for?" remains unanswered.
How the situation was unfolding. My friends and I parted at the crossroads, we arranged another meeting, I was returning home. One could not call a taxi because the Internet had not worked since lunchtime. Still, it was an August day, everything was so good, warm and beautiful, and half an hour later I walked home and fed street cats, but that feeling of anxiety did not go away. When entering my flat, I heard screams from outside. Standing transfixed with cats' unwashed bowls in my hands, I heard sounds coming from the square and I realised: "Here it comes!"
I went out to the balcony. Two very young guys who were running away from the square were the first to catch my eye after those screams. One of them was covering his face. I called them and asked if they needed help. He looked up; his face was in blood. I invited them to come in, wash, have some tea, called a taxi, or at least wait out. They refused and said they would go straight away. I saw that the 'coast was clear', there was no one, i.e. they could manage to reach a safe place. And I asked them: "What is going on?" And the guys answered with voices raising to a shout: "Damn, they are massively smashing people, the things are getting f*cking bad!" They ran away, I froze with fear on my balcony. The needle pierced the finger.
I went out to the balcony. Two very young guys who were running away from the square were the first to catch my eye after those screams. One of them was covering his face. I called them and asked if they needed help. He looked up; his face was in blood. I invited them to come in, wash, have some tea, called a taxi, or at least wait out. They refused and said they would go straight away. I saw that the 'coast was clear', there was no one, i.e. they could manage to reach a safe place. And I asked them: "What is going on?" And the guys answered with voices raising to a shout: "Damn, they are massively smashing people, the things are getting f*cking bad!" They ran away, I froze with fear on my balcony. The needle pierced the finger.
Then I saw them [police] dispersing people. I kept standing on the balcony and stared. I knew that I could not do anything. If I had started screaming, they could have broken into my flat. We have a very weak door which can be easily destroyed. And I was totally at sea, I simply did not understand what I needed to do at that moment... And it was so hard... that feeling of complete helplessness.
As a result, I switched my mobile phone on, started filming and telling about the developments that the camera was not able to catch. The people were passing by under my balcony, and I was just filming and commenting, because there was nothing else I could do then. I just could not wrap my head around those things, wondering 'For what? Why? Where on earth did such cruelty spring from??'
Over these three months, I have been reeling from those first post—election, and to be honest, I think I am still working on it. My body tells me that I am distressed. I do not know how strong these panic attacks are, but I suppress them almost every day. For the last two weeks, there hasn't been a day when I have not tried to quench a panic attack or an attack of severe anxiety.
Over these three months, I have been reeling from those first post—election, and to be honest, I think I am still working on it. My body tells me that I am distressed. I do not know how strong these panic attacks are, but I suppress them almost every day. For the last two weeks, there hasn't been a day when I have not tried to quench a panic attack or an attack of severe anxiety.
Then another shocking and dreadful moment came when I realised that I was really unable to do anything. My body is affected; I am not dancing, I am not able work on my projects, I am not writing, I am not able to organise any event. I am petrified.
How can one think of anything else? I have no energy at all; I feel as if I did not have any moral right to be happy and enjoy anything.
However, there are also positive moments in light of all this. Thanks to anxiety and distress, I have started to return to myself physically, i.e. to 'touch land' a bit, take care of my body, health, take bumper doses of anti-covid vitamins, do gymnastics. I even put some masks on my face, choose clothes. I have not bought anything for a million years, but I have decided to order boots. The contact with my body seems to have appeared. If this contact is in place again, I might be able to dance soon. I really hope for it.
However, there are also positive moments in light of all this. Thanks to anxiety and distress, I have started to return to myself physically, i.e. to 'touch land' a bit, take care of my body, health, take bumper doses of anti-covid vitamins, do gymnastics. I even put some masks on my face, choose clothes. I have not bought anything for a million years, but I have decided to order boots. The contact with my body seems to have appeared. If this contact is in place again, I might be able to dance soon. I really hope for it.