This story is free to read because readers choose to support LAist. If you find value in independent local reporting, make a donation to power our newsroom today.
Up past curfew, the party lasts all night at a basement dance club in Ukraine
Patrons at a club in Kharkiv hold sparklers in the darkened room in eastern Ukraine. Despite the ongoing war, people are still finding a way release tension in nightclubs in the the battered city.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
KHARKIV, Ukraine — Lights flash on and off, red, blue, green, a lumpy cotton ball-like material covers the ceiling. And feet shuffle and stomp across the dance floor moving to pulsing songs in Russian. People shout the lyrics alongside the songs, others close their eyes and move to the music. Friends crowd in groups shouting over each other and laughing, lovers kiss in the corner.
This is the scene that unfolds on a Saturday night, long past Kharkiv's 11 p.m. curfew. Despite more than a year of war in Ukraine, regular missile strikes, and power outages, here in Kharkiv, the party won't stop.
The back entrance to the club takes the patrons down an uneven staircase and past the kitchen.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
The club is underground, it's basements like this where people tend to shelter from shelling, but while these folks could be sheltering here, they're also putting back shots, smoking hookahs and generally enjoying themselves. The tension that can be felt in the city aboveground, with closed businesses, boarded up windows and the obvious remains of buildings destroyed by shelling scattered all over, dissipates when you're inside. But inside, looking around, no signs of war can be seen and after a few drinks perhaps one could even imagine walking out again to a normal city. While Kharkiv region was liberated in the fall, the city is still near the Russian border and the threat of war, like all over Ukraine, is ongoing.
People talk and sing loudly as the party gets underway.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
Liquor beer and hookah flow from the bar through the night.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
Just after 11 p.m., police came and the patrons were told to go home. After milling about outside, people quietly moved to the back door, constantly shushing those that had already had too much to drink. Neighbors peered out their windows at the strange group in the dark alleyway where girls in heels and miniskirts tried to avoid stepping into holes in the cracked pavement.
Sponsored message
Just after 11 p.m., people leave the club when police arrived, standing outside and waiting to see if the party will continue.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
In under 30 minutes, the doors to the back of the club opened and people walked single file down an uneven staircase, past the kitchen, and returned to their same seats, drinks still waiting on their tables. The crowd needed time to warm up again after this interruption, but soon the party was back on.
People dance the night away.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
Like the champagne bottles — adorned with thick sparklers sending off smoke and crackling light — delivered to tables and the fake hundred dollar bills thrown in the air, the patrons were once again able to shed the tension of living in war, flinging it into the air like the sparks and bills, letting it settle like dust and crumpled paper on the floor.
Copyright 2023 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org. 9(MDA1OTI3MjQ5MDEyODUwMTE2MzM1YzNmZA004))
Two people dance together and kiss amongst the crowd.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
A server lights a sparkler on a bottle of champagne as she delivers it to a table.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
Sponsored message
A man eats a burger as he walks to his table, wearing gloves to keep his hands clean.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
A woman sweeps up fake hundred dollar bills and broken glass after a cocktail fell on the dance floor.
(
Claire Harbage
/
NPR
)
You come to LAist because you want independent reporting and trustworthy local information. Our newsroom doesn’t answer to shareholders looking to turn a profit. Instead, we answer to you and our connected community. We are free to tell the full truth, to hold power to account without fear or favor, and to follow facts wherever they lead. Our only loyalty is to our audiences and our mission: to inform, engage, and strengthen our community.
Right now, LAist has lost $1.7M in annual funding due to Congress clawing back money already approved. The support we receive from readers like you will determine how fully our newsroom can continue informing, serving, and strengthening Southern California.
If this story helped you today, please become a monthly member today to help sustain this mission. It just takes 1 minute to donate below.
Your tax-deductible donation keeps LAist independent and accessible to everyone.
Right now, LAist has lost $1.7M in annual funding due to Congress clawing back money already approved. The support we receive from readers like you will determine how fully our newsroom can continue informing, serving, and strengthening Southern California.
If this story helped you today, please become a monthly member today to help sustain this mission. It just takes 1 minute to donate below.
Your tax-deductible donation keeps LAist independent and accessible to everyone.
Senior Vice President News, Editor in Chief
