The village of Tishanka in Russia’s Belgorod region is located a little more than one and a half kilometers from the border with Ukraine. Before the war, about 500 people lived there across four streets.
In the center, on Shkolnaya Street, stood the village’s most recognizable buildings: a bright yellow cultural center, a two-story administration building, and the grocery stores Kooperator, Alenka, and Ataman, the last with a tall decorated porch.
If one did not turn toward the church and the cultural center, it was possible to walk almost straight to the edge of the village. That is where Lugovaya Street is located. From its far end, the border itself cannot be seen, but the fields, trees, and the neighboring hamlet of Stary come into view.
The closeness of the Kharkiv region was felt even in everyday details: just a few years ago, people in Tishanka could still receive a welcome text message from a Ukrainian mobile operator.
On Lugovaya Street, neat houses stood on both sides, surrounded by greenery, and neighbors’ voices could be heard nearby. On the adjacent Shkolnaya Street stood the home of local historian Vladimir Pavlenko, who published a book about his native area several years ago.
On the facade of his house, Pavlenko installed a bust of Vladimir Lenin; on the fence he placed an image of the hammer and sickle; and at the entrance he displayed a red banner and the inscription Dum spiro, spero — “While I breathe, I hope.”
