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Xmas Trip to Belarus (Part 4/4) - Literary Ghosts and Borderlands - Mir, Novogrudek & Grodno

Updated: Mar 31, 2019

The Mystery of Mickiewicz

Novogrudok is an unassuming town between Minsk and Grodno which, with the freezing sleet and slush in which we arrived, did not look particularly appealing. It’s the sort of place you’d pass through on the bus without so much as a glance if you were on the way somewhere else. We were as it happened – we had spent a long day travelling to the castle of Mir from Polotsk, but decided to stop off anyway to break the journey. The town’s claim to fame though is as the birthplace of the poet and writer Adam Mickiewicz . A literary giant of Central Europe, author of the Polish national epic poem Pan Tadeusz, and born during the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth to aristocratic Polish parents, Mickiewicz has statues in his honour in Warsaw, Krakow and various other parts of Poland and is considered a Polish national hero. Yet, like most things connected with language, culture and identity in this part of the world, the truth of his national identity is far more complex. For a start, the first line of Pan Tadeusz are: Lithuania, my fatherland! You are like health; How much you must be valued, will only discover The one who has lost you.

Written at a time when Poland was partitioned by Russia and off the map completely and in which Belarus was just the name of a Russian region west of Moscow, Mickiewicz can be forgiven for having an identity crisis. He grew up around Russian speakers and he strongly identified with Lithuania (attending university in Vilnius) but wrote and spoke in Polish. There are statues to him in Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital, and Lviv, in present-day Ukraine. In fact, the Belarusians probably celebrate him less than anyone (his writing hardly being pro-Russian) and his little house, like Chagall’s, is a little-visited curiosity in the suburbs.

As I trudged the provincial streets of his hometown, the question of language and identity was again going through my mind. The poet dreamed of Polish/Lithuanian homeland, his writings were driven by it. The fact of his birthplace is an accident, and Belarusians probably find little to celebrate in him, as he wasn’t ‘one of them’. If anything, he should probably be considered a great Slavic poet, and as one who documented a time when none of Poland, Lithuania and Belarus existed, this would seem a fair compromise to the unbiased, although scholars of these countries will doubtless argue otherwise. Again, how Belarus can manage to find a national identity among all this is hard to fathom.

Mir: A Rare Architectural Jewel

We arrived in Mir quite late and after a long day. The village is dwarfed by an impressive castle , probably the biggest single surviving fortification in Belarus today. Our room in the only affordable hotel was only secured after a nervous wait for an unclaimed room which had been booked. The journey of 300km from Polotosk via Novogrudok and Minsk had taken 14 hours on ancient buses and made me wish we could have taken a train; unfortunately, Mir is unconnected by rail. The 16th century pile of red brick and stone is very pleasing on the eye and overlooks a serene lake. It is one of only four examples of UNESCO heritage in all of Belarus (and one of only two buildings), such are the paucity of historical sites in the country. The next day we spent exploring its considerable grounds and interior, and it felt like a bit of a novelty. Compared to some of the mighty castles and manor houses in Poland and especially Czech, Mir is quite modest, but in Belarus it is the star attraction. Built in the 16th century by Polish royalty, it has suffered its fair share of destruction over the years, particularly against the Russians during the war with Russia in 1654-57, and against Germany in the Great Patriotic War (WWII), but it has been largely restored now and is in great condition. Views out over the surrounding countryside were, if not spectacular, at least pretty in a bucolic way by Belarus standards, and the place felt more special and appreciated for its uniqueness here. The nearby village had a crumbling, tumble-down feel, and like much of what we had seen, seemed a bit lost in the past, with no significant signs of modern life around at all.

This and the nearby villages of Nyasvizh and Dudutki are held up as prime Belarusian tourist spots for history buffs, but the sad truth is that they are rare examples of pre-20th century architecture in a country where little has been allowed to exist over the centuries by marauding armies. Again, the flatness of the surrounding countryside was striking. For vast swathes, Belarus is flat. Flat as a pancake. Unfortunately, like Poland, this has been one of its main problems in history, as armies from every direction have been able to sweep through virtually unopposed. And, being land-locked, it is also coastline-free. What it does have is hundreds of thousands of acres of forests - Bialovieze, a massive primeval forested wilderness 100km southwest on the Polish border perhaps the best example, containing rare European bison - countless pristine post-glacial lakes and a largely untouched countryside. At its best in the summer months, and, I would imagine, ideal for cycling, fishing, mushrooming, boating and other simple pursuits. A budding eco-tourism scene exists and staying with locals in their farmhouse homes would be an excellent way to experience the real Belarus. Winter is not the best time to experience its modest rural delights though and if I regretted coming here at this time of year it was mainly for that reason.

Grodno - Limited Appeal

For a country not much smaller than the UK, Belarus surely deserves some sort of recognition for its geographical uniformity and sheer lack of must-see ‘sights’. Not too many places can boast that, and in a perverse way I like the country better for it. It rewards the adventurous because everywhere is off the beaten track. Our final stop on the trip was to be Grodno, just a couple of hours west by rickety bus in a freezing persistent drizzle. It was 3rd January now and only three days from the Orthodox Christmas. Grodno, like Brest, is hard-up on the Polish border, in more senses than one. It doesn’t benefit from being close to the EU in terms of tourism, the amount of tourists trickling over the border from a largely indifferent Poland having little effect on the local economy. Grodno though contains many examples of Polish architecture, particularly in its impressive Catholic churches, and while it may be no Belarusian Lviv, its pleasant compact centre, replete with narrow cobbled streets, a university and castle, make it pleasant to wander round. It again lacks what most would consider ‘must-see’ sights, but I had grown used to t