Fertile Ukraine—Hitler dreamt of it but it fell prey to Stalin. It was him and the likes who planted this land. They did what they could. They are long gone but the fertile land of Ukraine continues to yield its crop—subsequent lumps of concrete. Its surface is covered with cracks and rust-colored patches but it is still firmly set in the ground. It is like a prick of conscience in the fable-like landscape of the Black Sea. It reminds that changes happen only slowly. 

This land resembles Ukraine, a country which is very keen to change—but somehow always fails to do so. As if the concrete not only filled an external but also internal space. Only a few years passed from the Orange Revolution and people have already lost their hope that it would succeed, that they may be better off. They are confused and tired of political chaos. They were not better off in the past. It is true. But there was an order. And now their lot has not improved and there is no order either. 

"Let Eastern Ukraine, along with Crimea, return to Russia, and the Western part of the country join the European Union," says Alexandr, sipping his beer. He is twenty five and has plenty of time to drink beer even though he officially works at a hotel in Alushta. 

Once the whole Soviet Union would rest in Black Sea resorts. Soviet vacationers left behind Soviet architecture, mentality and sentiment. In Crimea, few people speak Ukrainian. The very fact that it has been recognized as an official language of Ukraine is considered by many locals as a presidential whim...

—Rafal Milach