"Why us? We're also Russian!" A report from a village of Old Believers in the Odesa region.

This village is located on the modern Ukrainian-Romanian border along the Danube. It was founded several centuries ago by Russian Old Believers. For generations, they have been so diligent in maintaining their separateness that they would even throw away a cup if a Ukrainian had drunk from it. Currently, in a village with a population of nearly three thousand, 70% are ethnic Russians.

“When the Russian 'shaheeds' first flew in, I thought: 'God, what did we do to deserve this? We are also Russians!'” recalls Milla Antonovna from Stara Nekrasovka.

Her son-in-law is fighting in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, as is Tatiana's brother, Sergey Kozakov. Additionally, there are nearly a hundred other men from Stara Nekrasovka, many of whom are Russian Old Believers.

Hromadske traveled to Stara Nekrasovka to find out whether the war with Russia is changing the views of the Old Believers and how their long-standing traditions coexist with modern Ukrainian realities.

Instead of a spoiler, here are the words of Stara Nekrasovka resident Pavel Bondarev: “In the USSR, we considered ourselves part of Russian land — for where there is a Russian church, there is Russian land.”

“Now I have a Ukrainian passport, but it doesn’t specify that I am Russian by nationality. But wearing a vyshyvanka would be insincere. Who am I? Bessarabian? A Ukrainian?” he asks me. And after a moment, he answers: “We are Russians, but not Russians from Russia.”

Is there Ukraine, and is there Bessarabia?

It is three kilometers from Izmail to the village. Stara Nekrasovka is now the center of the starostin district, managed by Sergey Zaim.

According to Ukrainian language teacher Svitlana, Sergey Petrovich was one of her best students. However, he speaks to me in Russian.

He explains that he is of Gagauz nationality and took office in 2020, when locals actively voted for the “For the Future” party. He emphasizes his non-Ukrainian origin as if the Izmail Gagauz are not citizens of Ukraine.

“I could have left for Turkey a long time ago; the Gagauz language is similar to Turkish. But I stayed here to bring at least some order. Do you think it's easy during wartime? We also help the army. Every week, we send food to the units where our guys are serving, and we have transferred 26 jeeps to them,” Sergey Zaim shares.

Stara Nekrasovka has long become a de facto suburb of Izmail. Its residents mostly work in the district center — at the ship repair plant, grain terminals, and in the port. No one engages in industrial horticulture or viticulture anymore.

“Once, we were known for our orchards. Now, traditions are fading in everything. Just recently, in Bessarabia, it was like this: you would arrive in a Bulgarian village — there would be the Bulgarian language, cuisine, songs. In a Gagauz village — everything Gagauz, among the Old Believers — their own traditions. But now all the villages have become the same, everywhere it has to be just Ukrainian,” Sergey Petrovich passionately argues.

Meanwhile, Pavel Bondarev remains calm. He slowly stops fiddling with sunflower meal — he was just pressing oil. Although he speaks Russian, he refers to the meal not as “meal” but specifically as “makukha,” and the resulting product as “oleya.”

He shows me Old Believer icons painted by his grandfather, a former priest. He teaches me how to cross myself in the Old Believer way: the thumb, pinky, and ring finger come together, while the middle finger bends and touches the index finger — this signifies that God the Son worships God the Father. He gifts me candles blessed in Jerusalem, calling them “daughters.”

“We lived peacefully here among ourselves for many years, not meddling in politics. But under Poroshenko, the school principal started hanging portraits of Bandera and Shukhevych in front of our children.

We do not deny Lviv, but we want Lviv not to deny us. 'Glory to Ukraine!' — that’s for Lviv, not for the Odessa region. Bessarabia cannot suddenly become Ukrainian. Everything is done without reason — it plays into the hands of the devil Putin,” Pavel Bondarev explains to me.

Old Believers Celebrate Kolyada

Although the founding date of Stara Nekrasovka is considered to be 1814, Old Believers appeared in this area much earlier. There lived Lipovans and Don Cossacks of the nekrasovtsy. Now, the Old Believers of the village refer to themselves as “Lipovans.”

Lipovan and Nekrasov traditions coexist even in small details. For instance, many elderly Lipovan women still bequeath to be buried in traditional Russian sarafans. Meanwhile, participants in local amateur performances recently appeared in skirts and blouses of Don Cossack design.

“Now we perform in Ukrainian national costumes, and our repertoire has changed — instead of Russian folk songs and chastushkas, we sing Ukrainian and patriotic works. I write both the work plan and reports in Ukrainian, as well as scripts,” says Milla Antonovna, head of the Stara Nekrasovka club.

She admits that when she, an ethnic Russian, has to address the audience during events at the club, where most are Russians, in Ukrainian, she feels a certain discomfort. The same goes for when she holds non-Old Believer celebrations.

“Old Believers, for example, do not sing Kolyada or Shchedrivka. But we organize caroling and Shchedrivka — last time we raised 3000 hryvnias for the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Now in Ukraine, Christmas is celebrated not on January 7 but on December 25. So we carol and celebrate according to the new calendar, while Christmas in the Old Believer church is celebrated according to the old calendar. Now we have two holidays in our village,” Milla Antonovna explains.

Valentina Silakova was also once a participant in village amateur performances — she shows me her former stage costume and a pink povoinik.

“A married woman should hide her hair under a povoinik, and only then cover her head with a scarf. During the wedding, brides still wear a povoinik under the veil. Men always wore white shirts untucked, belted with tassels. They did not wear costumes; if you approached the church in a jacket — take it off before the church,” Valentina Silakova says.

After hesitating a bit, the woman brings out a bundle “for the dead” from another room and unfolds it.

“I decorated my shroud with lace to make it beautiful. And it must be wrapped so that the right side of the shroud is on top. Then the body in the shroud must be tied crosswise with a ribbon three times — and again, so that the right ribbon is on top,” the woman explains.

She used to dress the deceased, but now she no longer has the strength for it.

“Now, few people prepare shrouds and long shirts for burial. They bury women in dresses,” Valentina says.

The church in Stara Nekrasovka is the only one — an Old Believer church. You can come here, no matter what your faith is, even if you are Orthodox. However, a person can only be buried in the church if they were baptized according to Old Believer traditions. Therefore, many villagers who are not Old Believers accept the Holy Baptism in their old age.

A Man is Like a Cross on a Church

And marriage works the same way: non-Lipovans cannot stand on the wedding rushnyk in the church.

There are many mixed marriages in the village. The kindergarten worker, Tatiana Kozubovska, has a Ukrainian father. Alena, a seller at the local “Fresh Market,” has a “Ukrainian” father, as she called him. Val