The West was always attractive for people from post-Soviet countries because to-date we had been living behind the "iron curtain" and didn't have the opportunity to travel freely to Western countries. That is why all the information about the West made us feel good! We didn't think of the objectiveness of it. It was necessary for us to see this paradise with our own eyes than to hear a lot about it.

In 1988, when the era of "Glasnost" and "Perestroyka" was at its highest level, I got such an opportunity. But I must say that was not an easy task. I had to write a lot of papers and documents, give them to militia, and wait some months to receive a permission to leave this country. You had to come through a serious test; if you were suspected of belonging to political opposition, the KGB would say "no." This had happened two times before with me. In 1988 and 1989, I was invited to the city of Lund, Switzerland, and the U.S.A., to take part in the international conferences on human rights. But they, I mean our local authorities, refused to let me go.

Then I decided to go abroad using an individual invitation, and was successful at last. First, I went to see my friends in Czechoslovakia in 1988. I spent only ten days, but had unforgettable impressions, and saw enough to understand the political situation there.

I even had a few incidents with their militia. The first was on the railway station in Prague, where their police officers came to me and began to demand my papers. They didn't like my long hair, and insulted me. In Brno, I was walking down the street with my friends when a police car came; the officers again began to check papers. When we came to the city of Tabor to meet our friends, two of them were detained by security forces and questioned about me and my girlfriend from Yugoslavia. They accused us of having a "bad influence" on Czechoslovakian youth and propaganda of the ideas of "Glasnost" and "Perestroyka." At one of the rock concerts, I witnessed a terrible scene: men in plain clothes pushed tear gas over the crowd, they were from the Czechoslovakian militia. These are my first impressions of a foreign country. I think they are interesting and I learned a lot, but I saw it wasn't real freedom in Czechoslovakia where different secret services prosecute people.

The next year I went to Poland on the invitation of a Polish organization "Peace and Freedom." I spent 20 days there. On 23 August, 1989, we organized a meeting devoted to the anniversary of the "Molotov-Ribbentrop" Treaty in 1939, when Poland was divided between Nazi Germany and former Soviet Union. Scores of organizations and opposition groups from Poland had gathered in Krakov. They demonstrated splendid solidarity against the old Communist system. I also had an occasion to speak at the conference, and fully enjoyed this unique chance to make contact with people with similar views. It was the time of opening the "iron curtain."

For the next travel to Greece in 1990, I met Anarchists and other groups and talked with them a lot. During six months in Greece, I learned some interesting things about the Greeks and their customs. I got married to Kate, my girlfriend from Yugoslavia, and went to see her homeland in Beograd, Serbia. There we lived for two years, until September 1992. We saw many events--fun and tragic. We saw the beginning of war in Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Then hard days began. The wave of refugees from the war regions covered Beograd. Youth fled from Yugoslavia to the West, not to take part in the war in Croatia and Bosnia. In summer 1992, the opposition in Beograd organized large demonstrations and meetings outside the building of Serbian Parliament, but it had no effect; the authorities didn't want to hear them. I met people from the opposition, and participated in their actions, but was afraid for my own safety--they could take me into a concentration camp or exile me forcibly from the country. That September, I left Yugoslavia; it was very sad. I didn't want to say "farewell" to the country of my love and my friends, but fate was friendly to me. By the following summer, I was abroad again. I don't know, but maybe a man from the West couldn't travel throughout Europe with only $20 in his pocket, but I did.

Then I had a desire to visit Germany, but I needed a visa for entry. Here in the Ukraine, this is a very long procedure. You can lose much time--two or three months waiting as they check your documents. Then you suffer in long, over-crowded lines, and have to go Kiev, the capital of the Ukraine, and back... A lot of time, a lot of money, a lot of patience. I paid one month's salary for my visa. After getting the visa, I went to Poland, and enjoyed a great holiday in Chenstohova, where thousands of people come every year, including one or two thousand hippies, who live in camps near a small church in a large field. I can't forget these days: we communicated, sang together, and met interesting people. I suppose if I went to the West, it would be a holiday that is always with me. But soon I learned a deep difference between the mentality of the people of the West and ours.

The first part of the difference I felt, was in Germany, between people from the East and West Berlin. After the "crush" of the Berlin Wall in East Berlin, there appeared dozens of youth cafes, "squatters" clubs --a whole region called "Prenslawberger," where young people from West Berlin began to move into the East to have a good time. A similar region in West Berlin, "Kraisberger," where the prominent actors and singers had been gathering, lost its popularity.

I could compare these two Berlins. Youth in East Berlin liked a fun and direct communication. It wasn't so isolated as in the West, but now I must say this simple climate gets worse. Brotherhood and love of the '60s and '70s is going away; everybody tries to keep his own prosperity and doesn't think about his loved ones. Youth now lives with other ideals and values. Materialism holds the minds of most of the people, even in alternative movements. When the former U.S.S.R. cracked down, it brought a lot of changes. People saw and learned much; they could travel to other countries. But my opinion is that it has become a strange situation: when we didn't have any freedom, we were closer to each other, we helped each other, we joined together.

When freedom came, we began to hide into the depths of our soul. We, the alternative youth of the former U.S.S.R., tried to change this system. With the beginning of "Glasnost" and "Perestroyka" in 1985, the youth began to stand up for their rights and freedoms. Many groups came from the underground and participated in meetings and demonstrations. Here in Lvov, the Ukraine, in 1987, we organized the "Trust," a group which campaigned for a trust between East and West, for human rights against the war in Afghanistan, etc.

Our group kept close contact with other groups and organizations in the former U.S.S.R. countries and abroad; then it was difficult to believe that such a great empire as the Soviet Union was broken. When democrats came to power and new states were proclaimed, we hoped that life would become better. But these political opponents and democrats--our colleagues were among them--began the part of instituting state structures, but they became the same as their predecessors, the communists. The terrible corruption, organized criminality, was born. That is why the former U.S.S.R. republics--now individual states--became the focus of chaos, terrorism, and poverty. Human rights were also forgotten by the people who talked much about them in the past under the ancient regime.

We understood that many of these people fought for human rights for one purpose--to take power. Taking a look at human rights situations in other countries, we wanted to help other people. So we organized an Amnesty International group in Lvov, the Ukraine, in 1993. We are a recognized group and are pleased to do something to stop torture and executions. We have twenty young people of different nationalities and political views, but we are all joined by a spirit of freedom, equality, and brotherhood, much as the early hippies were.

Then in Holland, in Amsterdam--to me, a place on Earth where hippies throughout the world come together--my great desire was to get there to meet my friends and brothers. I asked old friends whom I had written to for many years to help me. There were musicians from the Alternative scene, who wrote back that they wanted to see me and promised to help. But when I went there with my friend, John, an English hippie, we had to live on the street. Nobody wanted us. We walked throughout the night, and slept at Vondel Park. When we asked Amnesty International members from Holland to help us, they did and were very gentle.

This incident in Amsterdam was one more illustration of what the West modus operandi was for us in the East--an example of what life for the free people really is. For years I had this dream in my hands: I liked the city of Amsterdam with its architecture, canals, night life--especially "Pink Districts" where beautiful girls smoke, dance in the streets, where the counterculture people live as "squatters. " But there it was not possible to seek asylum for the night. I had to spend the holiday, "The Days of Theatres" organized once a year--with a lot of artists, theatres, and rock groups--in the streets. These splendid days left me unpleased ... A famous market "DAM" was empty, without long-hair men. The wonderful Vondel Park with beautiful lakes and nature, despite the drug-sellers and buyers, hadn't the climate of the'70s. I understood that the experiencing of feeling yourself in Amsterdam "at home among friends," had disappeared forever.

Maybe only here in the Ukraine and other countries of the former Soviet Union, can we have the atmosphere of brotherhood and friendship at our meetings and concerts. Perhaps you come and visit us.