Over the abyss in rust

What does Ukraine look like from the window of a suburban train? Pavlo Stekh took a journey around the perimeter of the country, documenting a reality where anecdotes about the Soviet era, smuggling, vodka with tomato juice, boisterous children, taxi drivers, punks, popular songs from the 1990s, and, of course, rust as a component of the suburban station landscape, interwoven like thin threads stitching the country lengthwise and crosswise. He wrote the last chapter in 2024 as part of the Defense Forces: a jump onto the last car, a return to Avdiivka, the farthest point of a carefree journey five years prior.

Immersing oneself in the noisy, restless life of commuter trains, these ghettos on wheels, and suburban stations, where there is no censorship or conventions, is a way to understand and accept the country's internal rhythms.