Memories of the 1999 Mennonite Heritage Cruise
by Bob Gossen, Victoria BC

Part One: Kiev and Khanev
Part Two: Dnepropetrovsk and Zaporozhye
Part Three: Last day in Zaporozhye
Part Four: Kherson and Crimea
Part Five: Odessa

My great great grandfather, Peter Penner and his second wife, Justina Braun.
The picture is from1863. He is the minister mentioned on p.136 of the Mennonite Historical Atlas
and was according to his diary, which I have, a minister in Nikolaipol.
He died there in Dec, 1883.

Part One

         We arrived in Frankfurt in the early morning local time and had a couple of hours and I bought two postcards and two stamps, wrote something in them and sent one to ourselves and the children and the other, written in High German to my sister Marilyn for her birthday. This took more time than I had thought and soon we were on our way to Kiev and our great adventure.

         We arrived in Kiev and right away there was some kind of a problem. We couldn’t go through customs and there was some kind of negotiation going on. A new law had been passed and all tourists were required to buy health insurance from the Ukraine government for the amount of ten US$. We of course had double insurance and knew that this was nothing more than an airport tax and finally when it had been reduced to $5 we paid it and were allowed to enter. We got on board buses and left the airport, after I had held our bus up because I was polite and let some ladies go ahead of me at the bank where we were changing some $US into Hryvna, pronounced ‘grievna’. Four and a half to the US $.

         Entering the four lane highway we saw some interesting things. The semi-trucks were all the same color, Khaki, and only had one set of duals and were all driving in the slow lane at about 20 MPH. Our bus was driving about 40 MPH and we drove quite a long distance and then got into the city of Kiev, where there were no houses, only large and shabby apartment buildings. A long drive and finally we got to a large river, I think the largest I had ever seen, and we crossed it and then drove along it seeing some spectacular bridges and churches and monuments and finally got to the wharf where our ship was docked.

        Upon boarding we were met by some very good looking girls who offered us bread, a large loaf from which we broke off a piece and then dipped it into a well of salt in the middle of the loaf, a traditional Ukrainian welcome. We got to our cabin and tried to locate ourselves, get cleaned up and changed. In due course our bags and our relatives and friends also appeared. We found our where we would eat our first meal.

        We entered the Kiev Restaurant one deck up from our cabin. It was beautiful, round, with windows along both outside walls with three circles of hanging glass rods, lighted by indirect bulbs. We didn’t know what the procedure would be so we just sat at a table and waited. The first course was there waiting for us as was the fruit juice. The tables filled up and someone started to sing “Praise God” and before the second bar the whole room, including us was singing ‘from whom all blessing flow’ in beautiful four part harmony. I don’t think I had ever heard it sung better. Now we knew that we were on a Mennonite Cruise. The food was always very good and the service excellent. We alternated between that restaurant and the Vienna Restaurant which was U shaped with outside windows on three sides but not as conducive to singing because it was considerably larger and we couldn’t see everyone.

        We had a good rest though we woke early and had our breakfast. Buses were ready to take us for a tour of the city of Kiev. Many beautiful churches and monuments, universities and panoramic views. We had not expected to see so much wonderful construction. The second evening we had the honor of a visit by the Canadian Ambassador to Ukraine, Derek Fraser. He spoke to us for about an hour in graphic terms about the problems in that part of the world. Dr Paul Toews, professor at Fresno CA and son of J B Toews, had introduced him. There were some questions and after that those of us who had indicated a willingness to sing on the Glushkov Choir left to attend the first of our two practices.

        The Akademik Viktor Glushkov, a ship run by Ukrainian cruise operator, Chervona Ruta (“red flower”), is a river cruise ship which is quite pleasing to the eye. It was built about 15 years ago in what was then East Germany. Some of the things are not up to our standards such as plumbing, functional but a little smelly,(we had been warned and brought along extra deodorant) and the water was okay but we used bottled water anyway, even to brush our teeth. We had also been told to bring lots of Imodium and we did and we used it two or three times and this enabled us to take part in everything and never have to miss any tours or events. The first evening we also had a welcoming concert of Ukrainian folk music. After the speech by Ambassador Fraser we set sail and the next morning we arrived in Khanev. We did not know where or what that was.

         Khanev is the place where the great Ukrainian poet and nationalist Shevchenko is forever honored. It is a most impressive place. First of all we were greeted by people selling flowers and these we took with us as we climbed up some 320 + steps to reach the memorial. There were optional buses for those too feeble to climb. We listened to bearded men playing the national instrument, the kobza, looking somewhat like a bandura, and singing emotional songs. We went to the huge monument to lay the flowers and then we went into the museum to learn about Taras Shevchenko. Shevchenko who was orphaned and taken into de facto slavery and later into prison had only three years of freedom in his short life but he left writings which have endeared him to millions and has been honored with this great monument.
     “When I die, let me be buried in my beloved Ukraine
     My tomb upon a grave-mound high,
     Amid the wide-spread plain,
     That the fields, the steppe unbounded.
     The Dnieper’s plunging shore
     My eye could see, my ear could hear
     The mighty river roar.
    When from Ukraine the Dnieper bears
    Into the deep blue sea
    The blood of foes .... then will I leave
    These hills and fertile fields --
    I’ll leave them all behind and fly
    To the abode of God, to sing His praise---

        This is just an example of his writing, beautiful and also copied by Mennonite writers when they also expressed their love of the river Dnieper and the Island Chortitza. This was an emotional visit and left us with some deep feelings for the land our ancestors had been forced to leave and for this great river which we had only begun to navigate.

       After lunch we had our first Mennonite lecture and focused on the history and origin of these people and how they came to live in this part of Ukraine, then called South Russia. At four PM we had “Faspa”: crullers with watermelon and tea and then lecture #2. We broke for dinner and then had lecture #3. Next morning we sailed into Dneprodzerzhinsk, the steel producing city of Ukraine and the most polluted of any city in that country. The skies were smoky and everything looked dirty. We took a smaller dirty tender ashore to meet the buses which would take us ahead to the city of Dnepropetrovsk, formerly Ekaterinoslav (“Glory to Catherine”) and the city where Peter A Penner writes in his diary, “I am going often to Ekaterinoslav to arrange for exit visas for our people.” Peter A Penner was the son of a school teacher and could read and write in both German and Russian, probably a rare skill.

        There had been Mennonites here and indeed in 1900 through1909 the mayor was a John Esau and a Mr. Thiessen was on the council and another Mennonite was the chief judge. During this time water and sewer was installed in this city. The city has a population of 1.2 million people and has many large and impressive buildings. Here we visit the holocaust room in the museum where a pyramid of faces with candles flickering in front of them recalls the violent death they each had at the hands of their own non-civil government. One man, a Gerhard Hamm, an engineer who had been awarded the Lenin Award for developing a combine in1932 is shot a few years later for being an enemy of the people. A graph shows the millions who died. I ask, and am told that 40 to 60 thousand Mennonites die between 1914 and 1943 but during that time 40 to 60 million citizens of the USSR lose their lives for the same reason. We return to the ship and after dinner we finalize our tour plans for the Mennonite villages. I want to go to Chortitza, Yazykovo and Molotschna and the fourth day to the Island Chortitza.

        Day five we dock in Zaporozhye, a city now of 900,000, which now encompasses the first settlement of Chortitza, the Island Chortitza and the village of Schoenwiese, all places where our Penner ancestors had lived and walked. This is Sunday and after an early breakfast we board buses and drive into the city for a joint worship service with the Zaporozhye Mennonites. It is held in a rented facility that belongs to a car factory. Everything is done in English and translated into Russian or Ukrainian. The local chairman is named Boris Letkeman and knows the Letkemans from Waldheim, SK. Our choir, with me in it, sing and we are told that it was beautiful. After speaking to the few people who can speak Plautdietsch we leave and visit the Mennonite sites. We see the Julius Siemens house and a factory formerly owned by a Mennonite. The next day we go to Yazykovo and here we visit Eichenfeld, the village where Peter A Penner and Aganetha Block get married and live and from where they leave to go to Manitoba in 1892.

        Thirty years later there is a terrible event here when 82 people are murdered in one night by Nestor Makhno and his gang of bandits during a period of anarchy. The account of the burial is truly an horrific story and needs to be retold here:
         About two days after the murders the people returned to the village, a frightened group and began to bury the dead. The bodies were bloodied, black and in some cases dismembered. People were posted to watch for the return of Makhno and his gang while others hastily dug holes in the ground near the graveyard and bodies were placed in the ground without preparation or cleaning, five or six at a time and covered with planks and then covered with ground. There was much grieving, weeping, screaming and terror as this was being done. A short prayer was said but there was no singing or organized service.
        We stand at the place, bewildered at the thought of such barbarity, where no marker exists and we place flowers in memory of this horrible event. We quietly walk away, greatly moved by the events which relatives of our great grandparents had to endure.

        As we travel quietly down the road to the next village we count our blessings. Nikolaifeld, a small village with a large former Mennonite Church, now a club and painted a sort of Rose color, is the place where great grandfather Peter Penner was a minister and a teacher. He died five years before this building was built but he lived here and his name still comes up as an early leader in this community.  The school is over 100 years old, still looks good and is still in use. I marvel at the decorative brick laying and architectural detail that had been developed there. Practically each village had a brick factory and roof tile factory and the buildings were well built and have lasted through wars, revolutions and weather. We have now seen several of the villages where the Penner’s lived, worked, taught and raised their families. We are walking on hallowed ground. I wonder why I have been so lucky as to be able to be here and understand their love for this land and this marvelous river. I almost feel along with Taras Shevchenko as well as the Penners and the Klassens in their emotional writings about Ukraine.

        A young Ukrainian newspaper reporter has chosen me to interview and asks what I think about her land, what I think about their future and how I am connected. I am feeling very positive and give her good answers. In the next village we get invited into a yard and home. We are amazed and shocked at how it reminds us of rural America seventy years ago. They do not seem to know that there is anything better and are quite happy with what they have. In the yard entrance is a bower loaded with wonderful grapes and the yard is full of basic equipment and here and there in the village might be a motorcycle and maybe a couple of cars. They live but there is no way that these people will ever see the kind of prosperity we are accustomed to. The Babushkas protest but stand erect as I take their picture. They are very friendly and unbelievably generous. We see a building which once was the Rempel Factory building farm equipment and another bust of Lenin.

        The Kronstal Ko-op Store opened in 1902 under the management of William Klassen and is still operating but with a tiny stock and ancient scales and shelving. Later we will see a wonderful market with absolutely everything from Coke to Corning Ware at about 1/4 of what we pay here but still expensive for the ordinary Ukrainian. Everything is available though and I suppose sooner or later people will find a way to buy what they see. The Zentralschule in Kronstal is also a Mennonite built building and is also in good condition except for the floors and the lighting, which needs upgrading. The class room displays are neat and artistic.  Adjacent to Kronstal is the village of Neu Osterwick and here we see the DB Schultz factory. It is very large and impressive and is now used by the collective to repair and maintain equipment as well as the collective office. We are invited in and observed with some curiosity. As always the people who are running the country are young, good looking and very stylishly dressed. The house of the former owner is dwarfed by his son’s house. We take pictures and find some Rempel graves. We now travel down the road to Nieder Chortitza, one of the oldest of the colonies.

        Just before we are to leave and Nazi style motorcycle roars up and an old woman climbs out of the side car. She begins talking excitedly in German and Plautdietsche and says her name is Frieda Letkeman. She kisses all the men and women twice and we are instantly friends. Others watch as this old lady charms a whole busload of Americans, finally boards the bus and leads them all to her home for watermelon and other fruit. She tells us that she is the only one who can still speak the old language and she lives alone now and that is why she can talk to herself in Nether Saxon and keep herself from forgetting it. I chatter with her with the greatest of ease and we have a good time. Most of us give her money and she is heard to say that now she will be able to live for the rest of the year. We feel as if we met someone who could have been related to us and we are a little sad as we leave.

        As we drive down the little paved road we stop to take a picture of Zaporozhye, a city of 900,000 where the first Mennonite settlement started in 1789, 210 years ago. I start to feel a little old because I have relived a lot of history in the last couple of days. On the way we see a dacha of great cost and beauty and this is a fact of modern Ukraine, great wealth surrounded by abject poverty. We board our ship and it is so peaceful and beautiful on the Dnieper as the sun sets, it is hard to imagine that terror ever reigned here.

        Every day is more exciting and today we are headed for Molotschna, where the Gossens came from. Evelyn, Harley and Treva from California and Wilma and I are having such a good time. We have never been in such close proximity for such a length of time and I don’t think we expected that we would become so close and have such a good time. We bonded and now are no longer second cousins but have elevated ourselves to first cousins.
That was easy; what will we do for an encore?

        Our first stop in Molotschna is at the Petershagen Mennonite Church which has been used as a granary for many years but has just been renovated and will soon be used for services as a Mennonite Church, funding coming entirely from Canadian Mennonites. The building is really beautiful , very impressive. We cross the Molotschnia River (Milk River), a tiny stream and in Halbstadt we stop to admire the former Willm’s Mill. HH Willms had a huge house, 7000 sq ft on the ground floor alone and there are accounts of very interesting social gatherings at their home. The Mennonites in both Prussia and Ukraine were noted for their brewing skills and had unlimited permission for brewing beer as well as vinegar and brandy and no one from outside could sell any such products in the Mennonite villages. They started to use a lot of their own products and this led to some soul searching and some changes which would affect generations to come. The Zentralschule in Halbstadt is an impressive building with four massive columns at the entrance. This is the fifty fifth anniversary of liberation from the Germans. It is also that many years and more since the Mennonites left here with the German army.

        The next town is Ruekenau and here we see the very first church, built by the off shoot Mennonite Brethren Church, which demanded a change in the people and a more ascetic life style. Since the revolution this former church has been a feed plant but the brickwork on the windows and other features remind us of a time when this was a vibrant new Christian community. Nearby on an electrical tower is a storks nest and we are told that the stork returns on the same day every year. A Ukrainian lady has roof tiles which she is willing to share. I am not close to the centre of this group and don’t know if she is given money or not. Probably. The next village is Friedensdorf, where the eldest of Jacob Gossen Sr’s children were born. Evelyn, Harl and I and spouses have returned to the home of the Gossen’s.

        It is a nice village with impressively large trees. We wander through a grave yard and Ray and Lois Shroeder find a head stone with the name Shroeder on it. No Mennonites live in any of these villages anymore. Occasionally someone finds a house they had lived in in 1943 but there are no connections further back. All the large estates were dismantled when they went to the collective system and only the very largest have been saved and used as hospitals, orphanages or convalescent homes. We drive down the road a few kilometers and arrive in Landskrone, the village where my Grandpa Jacob J Gossen was born. This village does not exist anymore and there are only some trees and a gate and the remains of a bulldozed site of the former MB Church.

        One of the arched gate posts becomes my marker and Wilma takes a picture of me in it and catches Lois Shroeder taking a video of me as well. Lois is close to my age, I think but looks better than I and we have been meeting often and talking. We like each other and often joke about things. They also have family history in this village. Only on the second last evening on board the Viktor Glushkov do we find out that we are indeed related and that our common ancestor lived here, in this village. We are all delighted at the news and feel that now this trip is well worthwhile the trouble and expense. At the site of the church, I find an inlaid floor tile and take a picture of it. The church was similar in design to the Petershagen and Schoensee churches, built of brick with gothic windows and thick brick buttresses strengthening the walls between the windows. I wonder what development would have occurred here if there had not been two world wars and the revolution and the purges and famines. This could have been a place as fantastic as any in Europe but it was lost because of the course of history.

        Two kilometers later we pass through Hierschau, where the Landskrone MB minister, Gerhard Plett lived and shortly after that we are in Waldheim, now Vladovka, the administration center for the large collective. This was then and is now, the largest village in the Molotschna region. There is a hospital here, built by Mennonites and two long main streets, one on either side of the small river running through the middle of town. We see little evidence of commercial activity here and even in the large cities the stores or malls we enter are small and poorly stocked. Where the action is, is in the markets, where everything is available and at small yard sales. In Vladovka we see a few cars and tractors with cabs and some old looking machinery. Even the new machinery in the fields looks old to us. All the houses in the country are of similar size and shape though people have painted them to suit their own tastes. Yards are never mowed, as they say they prefer the natural look but here and there a yard is kept as black dirt and swept clean with only trees, hedges and fruit trees growing and providing shade and food. Walnuts also grow here so the climate is like Vancouver Island. We see the site of the former IJ Neufeld factory. This was moved to Berdjansk later. Mr Neufeld was the richest man in the area then and his son, John I Neufeld, moved to Hepburn, SK and this is where I got to know him and he told me the story of the Mennonites in Ukraine and I developed a tremendous interest in this history. We visit the ruins of the church at Schoensee and return to the city, a two hour bus ride and have our dinner.

The next day will be the last in Zaporozhye and now we will visit the island of Chortitza, former home of Cossacks and first settlement of Mennonites in 1789. Now there are two bridges, one from either side of the river and we have already crossed the bridges but now we will leave the highway and see the actual ground where Peter Penner lll was born, Dec, 17, 1829. We drive first to the site of the old oak tree, 800 years old and now mostly dead. This tree has tremendous significance for Cossacks and Mennonites. Cossack men and their women would hold hands while circling the tree three times and that would constitute getting married. Many Mennonites were born within sight of the tree as the village surrounding is on a slight rise, so the tree was visible from a large number of homes. I get the most favorable picture I can, featuring the several branches which still have green leaves. This is an historic spot and we love it and stay a little longer.

        We now drive to Rosenthal, where the Lepp and Wallmann factory was, one of the richest of that class of Mennonites. The Wallmanns had their own castle, Wallmann Burg, built a hospital and left as a legacy, the Maedchenschule, the most beautiful example of Mennonite architecture that can be found. Ornate brick with marble pillars and inlaid white marble with fancy Dutch style gables and ornate windows, this building is a marvel and is still used and we attend a short concert in the second floor auditorium. Last night at five o clock, Walter came on the intercom with his mellifluous CBC voice and told us that he had spoken to the principal to ask what her needs were. She said they needed a scanner and a computer and printer. This would cost, she thought about $800 US. Walter asked if any of us wanted to donate towards that cause and if we could raise part of it then they could get it so much sooner. In less than a hour the Glushkov community raised $1000 US and the Principal was told about it next morning. We have since had an e-mail message telling us that they have the equipment, are using it and are delighted. Wow!!

        Around the corner from the school is an old green Mennonite building and it has some significance. It is the site of the first soup kitchens, ever set up by MCC, in the year 1922, the year of the first terrible famine in Ukraine. The second such famine, purposely inflicted on the population by Stalin and the communist government in the 1930's took 8,000,000 Ukrainian lives.  We cannot comprehend such brutality, even if we have heard it all before but to see the places and the yards where this took place is touching us all.

        We now drive to a primitive park where we see the most amazing Zaporozhye Cossack Show. Trick riding, feats of strength and skill, truly amazing and very comical as they grab ‘volunteers’ from the crowd and after making them join in dangerous tricks, they are forced to drink a glass of straight vodka, the glass resting on a curved Cossack sword and bring the sword back down without dropping the glass. This is met with huge cheers. Some of the Mennonites are reluctant to take part but have no choice, others can hardly wait to be asked and it is great fun. We buy more gifts and crafts and leave. As we drive down the narrow paved road we are struck by the beauty of this land but especially this island. I had not expected to see such large and beautiful trees and the landscape reminds me of my beloved Saskatchewan, but seemingly with a gentler climate. The fruit trees, grapes, pears and the size of the trees all attest to that.

        In Zaporozhye we now go to the Mennonite Museum Exhibit, just opened this spring by Harvey Dyck, Walter Unger and others in May ‘99. We see old cradles, Kroeger Clocks, Henry Pauls’ paintings and in the next room, incongruously, a display of Nestor Makhno and his Tachanka (Mennonite buggy with mounted machine gun, used to terrorize villages and murder the inhabitants). Makhno is now touted as a freedom fighter and has been elevated to hero status in a country desperately short of heroes. We have been told to be polite and not make any demonstration, but can barely conceal our disgust for this deplorable person.
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         Now, back to the ship and a sad farewell to Zaporozhye, especially so for those who have friends and relatives who still live there. I cannot watch as I also am so sympathetic that I know I will cry, so I walk to the other side of the ship and watch as we sail past the large and lovely Insel Chortitza. I think of Rev. Klassen’s book where he talks about the wind whispering and singing through the pines, planted by our ancestors, as it softly blows over the island, crosses the beautiful Dnieper and carries it’s tune across the land and around the world. This analogy is exactly what happened to the generations of children whose story tarried here, now for two hundred years. Again, I am so glad that I have come to see and feel and build my memories of where I came from.

An overnight sail takes us to the entrance to the Black Sea and the city of Kherson. We transfer to a delta boat, large enough to carry all of us and we sail for an hour down the delta sprinkled with islands and marshes and habitation. We stop at a fishermen’s island where there is a two kilometer long craft sale set up for us. Later, in groups of forty, we enter private yards and are treated to a wonderful buffet lunch with many different ethnic and local foods.

        We return to the ship and sail for Sevastopol, the home of the Black Sea fleet of both Ukraine and Russia. This is also where the Crimean war was fought and Mennonites were involved, transporting wounded and supplying horses and wagons to the Tsar’s army. This city has, since 1855, endured three great wars and three revolutions. Twice it has been reduced to three buildings, once in 1856 and again in 1944. It is almost tropical here and the people lived in the caves created by the granite quarries from which the buildings where built. It has many nice buildings and is so far the nicest place we have seen. On entering Artillery Bay, we are welcomed by the Naval Band and having been forewarned, we are all out on deck. Mennonites are welcomed and feted all around Ukraine and our group, made up of descendants of Mennonites who now are part of as many denominations as you would care to name, including us, Catholics, Buddhists, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Jehovah’s Witnesses and on and on and on, are all taken in as though we are still all part of that originating group. We all wear the Mennonite badge and get along as though we are all part of one happy family who just have not seen each other for a while.

        In Yalta we visit the former home of Anton Chekhov and have our pictures taken with his great great grandson, or so I hoped. The Russian Riviera is a gorgeous place and we also visit Livadia, the palace where the 1945 conference to divide Europe by Stalin, Roosevelt and Churchill was held. We visit Vorontsov Palace at Alupka with it’s wonderful lions; we see the amazing church built high on a rocky promontory and later, with Walter’s help, we visit the huge Sevastopol market and finish with a city tour. We visit the great Panorama of the Crimean War, an amazing and spectacular wonder.

        Next day we visit the site of ancient Chersonesus, where the Greeks lived 2500 years ago and the site of one of the few places on earth where you can really feel the power of gravity as the blood pulls into one’s arms with such force that my arms felt heavy and when I moved a few feet from that spot I returned to normal.

        We visit Bakhchiserai, the last of the wooden palaces of the Tatar Khans and see the amazing, ornate wooden entrance and inside among many other wonders, see the fountain of tears, made famous by Alexander Pushkin’s poem. The fountain is truly beautiful as the tears slowly course down from one level to the next as the Khan’s tears grieve for the loss of his lovely young concubine. Though I’ve had a number of combines, I never had a concubine and when I’m told the Khan had four wives, one for each season and sixty two concubines, I irreverently remark that most of them probably had it pretty soft. My witty joke leaves the crowd so quiet that I hear a drop of sweat run down the crack of my butt. Some things don’t change and since I have always like humor, especially irreverent humor, I still live in a world of my own. Thank goodness for Ev, as she at least takes a whack at me in mock disgust for my naughtiness.

        Back at the ship we see the cutest little girl, who looks like granddaughter Emily and who is selling baubles. We buy and buy and then donate money to a rag tag group of musicians who give new meaning the phrase, ‘playing for money’. We see the famous steps of Potemkin, see the Pillars of City Hall, catch our first look at the Opera House of Odessa and visit a Ukrainian Orthodox Church and see another statue of Lenin. The first evening here we attend a command performance by the Naval Band and chorus, very good and the next evening we attend the Opera. The first hour we tour the building and then we sit down for a two hour performance of aria’s and dances from Johann Strauss. This is also well worth the money and the time.

The harbor of Odessa is spectacular and the first building you see, when you approach from the sea, is a small modern church dedicated to St. Nicholas, patron saint of sailors. This is a country where, for seventy years religion was not permitted. In our country where we have freedom of everything, we do not have anything like this. The harbor buildings here are glorious and impressive. The last afternoon we see the Peter Braun Exhibit which is a collections of writings and evidence, collected by him to prove the Mennonites once lived here. Though descendants knew this, the government for years denied that these people had ever lived here. Dr. Harvey Dyck, professor at U of Toronto found it almost by accident in 1990 and now it has been micro-filmed and is in several locations in North America but the original is in Odessa and is being studied and catalogued there. A portion is set up for display in the music room, just two doors from our cabin.

        Last evening as we sailed across a stormy Black Sea, we had a wonderful lecture by Cambridge University don, Dr John Hodges, English husband of the former Susie Friesen, daughter of miller Friesen from Hague, SK. He spoke on civil and non-civil societies and that was one of the most interesting talks I have ever heard and I thank him for it. There were many interesting and admirable people on this cruise. YUMPPIES (young urban upwardly mobile Mennonite professional persons), as they have become known as and John Hodges, who said he had always been a Christian but now was struggling to become a Mennonite, got very high marks from me. There were many other great and important educators and members of many professions as well as many very wealthy business leaders on this trip, men and women alike. I felt quite inadequate but I had one redeeming quality. I could speak Nether Saxon and right after Dr. Hodges speech I read a Plautdietsche poem and story. It was very stormy and only those who had not succumbed to seasickness could attend but we all had a very good time.

        The weather was perfect the entire time in Ukraine, very warm in the South and no rain. The scenery was great, good food as well and friendly and generous people who made us feel very welcome. The fellowship and companionship on board the Glushkov was excellent and the organization was as good as any tour we have ever been on. The surprises for the most part were happy ones. The only stressful part was the eight hour wait in Odessa, when our charter flight did not show and we eventually flew out late on a Tupolev 154, a bit of a scary situation but it all turned out well and the subsequent contrast when we boarded Lufthansa’s first class machinery was wonderful.

        We got home safe and sound and happy and fulfilled with many great memories and full of thanks to Walter and Marina and the rest of the staff for the experience of a lifetime.

Wilma and Bob Gossen
gosse1@home.com

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