Redkovka, Ukraine, bears little resemblance to the place it was 25 years ago. Its stores, its school, its factory, and its homes — all are gone, or dramatically changed, as a result of the 1986 nuclear accident at Chernobyl, about 22 miles away.
The church, though, remains. Every day, its 74-year-old caretaker, Lida Masanovitz, wakes up at dawn to begin her chores. When the freelance photographer Diana Markosian visited her in March, she woke up early, too, watching Ms. Masanovitz make breakfast, manage the farm and tend to the church.
Most of Redkovka’s residents — about 1,000 people — resettled after the disaster. But the five families there today, including Ms. Masanovitz and her husband, Mikhail, 73, refused.
“This was home for them,” Ms. Markosian said. “This was where they grew up.”
“It was something that I had to understand,” she said. “And that came from just being there and seeing the thread that weaves this entire village together.”
Diana Markosian/Redux A Chernobyl card distributed by the Ukrainian government.The thread, she found, was love: love for one another and love for the place. Together, the villagers endured the Second World War, Chernobyl and the collapse of the Soviet Union. Now, they rarely leave. Although a bus drives through, Ms. Markosian never saw anyone board.
“They don’t need to,” she said. “They have each other.” They also have a tiny grocery store that stocks bread, meat and vodka. Otherwise, they grow their own food.
But life can be grim and lonely. Twenty-five years ago, Ms. Masanovitz was a nurse. Her husband was a farmer on a collective farm. Now he spends his time drinking.
While she was photographing the couple one day, Ms. Markosian watched as Ms. Masanovitz picked up the phone in astonishment. (Slide 11.) It was the first time it had worked in a year.
Ms. Markosian, 21, is based in Moscow, where she lived until she was 9. Her work was shown recently in the Turning Point series on Lens. (“Stay One Minute Longer to Get the Picture.”) She went to Redkovka twice, spending a total of two weeks there.
The villagers understand that when they’re gone, Redkovka will probably fade into memory. When Ms. Markosian touched upon the subject with Ms. Masanovitz, the older woman began to cry.
Still, she keeps at it. “I’ve never seen somebody work this hard — with so much energy and life,” Ms. Markosian said. “She’s thrilled to start her day.” Making breakfast. Managing the farm. Tending to the church.
Diana Markosian/Redux Lida Masanovitz rested after working in the field in Redkovka.
