MISSION, Canada — For many dancers in the Canadian province of British Columbia, this Ukrainian Cultural Festival is the highlight of the year.
Dressed in a wide variety of colorful costumes from all over Ukraine, three hundred dancers from across the province and Seattle in the United States had their performances scored by judge Vincent Rees. A former dancer, instructor, and choreographer, Rees also runs CobbleStone Freeway in Edmonton, a travel company which arranges dance tours to Ukraine.
The annual British Columbia Ukrainian Cultural Festival takes place every May in Mission, a city of roughly 39,000 people located some 70 kilometers southeast of metropolitan Vancouver. It is the only Ukrainian festival in the province, which is home to over 180,000 people of Ukrainian descent.
At the festival, the footwork was always crisp and the dancers employed special choreographic tricks to wow the audience: acrobatic flips, human pyramids and sequences in which the dancers whirled like carousels.
The festival, which celebrated its 24th anniversary on May 4, had a long road to success. Gladys Andreas, a founder and first president of the event, says starting the festival wasn’t an overnight process, but she and her husband were determined to bring a Ukrainian festival to the Canadian west coast. While other provinces like Alberta, Manitoba and Ontario could already boast dozens of Ukrainian heritage festivals, British Columbia had none until 1995.
“We have come a long way from the first festival,” Andreas told the Kyiv Post. “We began in a small church hall and parking lot, outgrew (it) to a community center, moved on to a school gymnasium and supporting rooms to a performing theatre seating over 600 people.”
More than 1,500 people toured the festival grounds this year, watched the dance competition and took in various displays of Ukrainian arts and crafts, including embroidery, painted pysanka eggs and wheat weaving.
Tumultuous past
Today, many Canadians enjoy Ukrainian culture. But in Andreas’ early years, the situation was entirely different.
In the spring of 1895, the steamship Cristina brought some of the first Ukrainian newcomers to Canada. Andreas’ grandparents and their four children were among 106 people on board.
“With the way things are going in the world, I’m very, very grateful they had the courage to come to Canada because we have such a great life here compared to many parts of the world,” Andreas said.
However, she didn’t have an easy time growing up Ukrainian in Canada. In her childhood, Andreas’ first language was Ukrainian. While in school, whether in class or on the playground, if she spoke in her native language and was reported to the teacher, she would have to hold out her hand and be struck with a piece of leather.
She holds no grudges though. Thankfully, Andreas said, things have changed since then and Ukrainian culture has thrived over the years.
“I think it’s absolutely fantastic that we have these different things from different cultures,” she says. And the festival is a good chance to showcase the Ukrainian culture that people love to experience, said Glenna Nychyporuk, Andreas’ colleague and a past president of the festival.
“Most often, we hear ‘Oh, they are having pierogis’…’’ Nychyporuk said with a smile, adding that the kitchen is always the busiest spot at the festival.
The festival, which started as a family affair, brought many like-minded people to the team. Now their children are taking on new responsibilities. Ukrainian dance is what keeps them going.
“The highlights of the festival are the dancers. Their enthusiasm, energy and excitement,” said Darka Morin-Konik, president of the Festival. “It warms my heart to see this festival as an opportunity for Ukrainian dance groups, families and visitors of all ethnicities, coming together to enjoy the passion of the Ukrainian dance, music, food and culture.”
Young blood
Even though the event mostly attracts the Ukrainian diaspora and local community, including many seniors, the organizers work to engage younger people as well.
The younger generation contributes to keep the festival vibrant, said Nychyporuk. That is why, two years ago, the organizers decided to introduce youth ambassadors — young Ukrainians whose role is to help the festival’s visitors and make the event thrive. They also collect feedback from the audience to make the future festivals better.
Valentyn Kolomiiets, Kyiv native, returned as the festival’s ambassador for the second time. He commuted to Mission from Vancouver, where he works, because he enjoys supporting the Ukrainian culture. This time he was accompanied by Mariia Hahalovska, a native of Lutsk, in western Ukraine. Both Hahalovska and Kolomiiets are active members in the Ukrainian community in Vancouver, where they study and work.
Dressed in vyshyvankas and sashes emblazoned with the words “youth ambassador,” they greeted the guests and pointed out the most interesting events.
“It’s fun to engage in conversations and get to know about people who come here. Most of the feedback we receive is really positive,” explained Hahalovska. “I think it would be fun to add after-festival activities though. We really want to influence Ukrainian culture here.”
Annual sugar fix
Even though the dances are the most exciting part for the festival guests, its participants also look forward to another family feature available during the event: a booth with cookies in the shape of Ukrainian dancers.
Around 20 years ago, when her son Daniel was learning Ukrainian dance, Marcia Moroz started to bake Ukrainian dancer cookies. The idea came as she was preparing to make bags of treats for the dancers in her son’s class for Christmas.
“I asked my son what he thought would be good to put in the treat bags. He said, ‘Gingerbread Cossacks!’ I said, ‘Sure, as long as you help.’ I designed a cookie cutter and we went to work on the project. And, of course, the Gingerbread Dancing Cossacks were a big hit with the kids.”
The Moroz family continued to make the cookies for friends at Christmastime. After Daniel grew up and became involved with the B. C. Ukrainian Cultural and Dance Festival, he encouraged his mom to make the cookies for the festival dancers.
Marcia Moroz and her son Daniel have been making Ukrainian dancer cookies for the last 20 years. (Brad LaFoy)
Moroz changed the recipe to sugar cookies as the festival is usually held in May and added a female dancer to make a “Poltava pair.” Later a “Hutsul pair” and a “baba” were added, making a total of five different Ukrainian cookie “people.” She named them Krazy Kachka Kookies.
“The cookies have become a tradition at the event and the dancers look forward to the annual sugar fix,” Moroz said. Their booth became a permanent feature of the festival.
