Dolishne. A Subcarpathian village in the Stryi area, or the lost authenticity of a wooden church

To the village of Dolishne in the Stryi district I went to see the youngest wooden church in the area.


When I travel by bus, it can be hard to find my bearings when there are no signs. This time a young man who was going to Dolishne responded to my request to point out the stop I needed. We got off the bus, and on the way to the church my fellow traveller told me about village life. The village is small, there is no work. The young people have left to earn a living in foreign parts. This young man does not want to go abroad — not everyone takes to a migrant worker's lot — and he works in Stryi. We came up to the school he had finished. Part of the building was constructed in 1912. It was the house of a priest, who taught the local children their letters in his own home. Then the school was gradually extended, although the district authorities did not favour the development of educational institutions in small villages. So that the school would not be closed in the 1970s, the residents and teachers themselves dug the foundation and raised the walls. Now there is even internet, but there are too few pupils.





One of the graduates was Mykola Shtynda, who fell in 2014 in the ATO zone while carrying out his military duty. A memorial plaque in honour of the hero has been installed on the wall of his old school. Beside it are flowers and votive lamps.





Having heard the story of the school and photographed it, we came up to the church. The young man told me how to get out of the village afterwards, since the bus would not come for a long time. I thanked him; he wanted to go on showing me the way, but I decided to spend a little while by the church. The Church of the Nativity of the Most Holy Mother of God was built in 1922 on the site of a predecessor destroyed during the First World War. Now it has been dressed in a super-fashionable outfit of clapboard. And the roof and domes have been sheathed in shiny metal cladding, to look opulent. It is a pity that the priests and the community do not keep to the traditions of wooden architecture and do not repair these shrines by the old folk methods, for that would be both cheaper and would preserve their authenticity. The repair of churches using modern materials is happening everywhere, in the houses of worship of all religious denominations. The subtleties of the folk masters' craft are being forgotten, and wooden sacred architecture is losing its pristine beauty.



In the churchyard a sculpture of the Mother of God has been set up, and a symbolic grave has been raised to the defenders of Ukraine.



By the church, at the roadside, some women were standing. They smiled at me warmly. I greeted them as is the custom: "Glory to Jesus Christ," and set off through the village along the road I had been shown.





I would have had to walk about 4 kilometres just to Morshyn, along an unfamiliar stony road, through meadows, fields and forest. I had already climbed the hill, photographed the village panorama, and was approaching a wayside chapel, when a truck caught up with me. The driver stopped and offered me a lift. How wonderfully I travelled, despite the fact that 'road' is a name only. Potholes and stones. But it is better to ride badly than to walk even worse. It is hard to imagine how long I would have trudged over those stones. The trip turned out well; thank you to everyone who helped me, and I share my impressions with you.