Triumph of the human spirit: Ilona can’t walk, but she can dance

Because of a genetic impairment, the young Kyivan has never been able to walk and is forced to get around in a wheelchair. She and others with similar disabilities encounter endless cruelties in trying to navigate Kyiv’s streets and prejudices. Some of the hardships can be so crippling to the spirit that some handicapped people lose the will to live, while others are sapped by depression and sit home and look at the walls.

But Sluhovyna and many of her friends have found ways to actively combat these setbacks. Her spirit is lifted by a Kyiv dance club that pairs her, and others like her, with ablebodied dance partners. The club meets at the Beresil Sports Complex, at Serafimovycha Street 7, near the Paton Bridge. Sluhovyna started going to the club six years ago.

At Beresil, Sluhovyna got paired up with Oleksandr Ivanov, a professional dancer who gracefully moves around a ballroom with full use of his two legs. Together, the partners have learned to dance so well that Sluhovyna has become a champion in her own right, winning several dance contests. They are now in training for the 2008 International Paralympic Committee’s Wheelchair Dance Sport World Championships, to be held from Oct. 24 to Oct. 27 in Minsk, Belarus.

Both Sluhovyna and Ivanov had to adjust to each other to become successful partners.

“I had absolutely no idea how to dance with such a partner,” Ivanov said. “With an ordinary dancing couple, I always used to feel my partners’ legs. Here it is absolutely different. I was sure I would fail, even afraid to fall and be knocked down by a wheelchair.”

But, over time, they learned that the wheelchair samba or rumba can even be more passionate than the more conventional one.

“Ilona is a very professional and artistic partner, with a great sense of rhythm,” Ivanov said. “She is extremely hard working and, mostly because of it, we achieve such strong results at world championships.”

She has learned more dances than most.

“Sitting in my wheelchair I can dance all the world dances, including five European – slow waltz, Viennese waltz, tango, slow foxtrot, quickstep – and five Latin American – samba, chacha, rumba, pasodoble, jive,” Sluhovyna said. Where other dancers show rhythm and movement with hands and legs, Sluhovyna shows it with hands and wheels. “Probably the most important is the soul of the dancer,” she said.

She credits the “great services and professionalism” of her Ukrainian dance coaches with teaching her the moves.

One of them, Dariya Alferova, said that “each step of any usual ballroom dance can be adapted to the wheelchair. I see no difference working with either walking athletes or a wheelchair dancer. There is an individual special training program for each couple.”

For the darkhaired Sluhovyna with matching brown eyes, the Beresil club’s slogan, “You can dance without legs, but you cannot dance without a spirit,” has become part of her outlook.

“When I am dancing I am really the happiest person in the world,” she said.

The dancefloor movements offer a great escape from the hardships that she and others in wheelchairs routinely face.

“It is really hard to live in Kyiv while in a wheelchair,” Sluhovyna said. “Your wheels permanently stick between the cracks in the sidewalk and the holes of the sewer lids. To cross the street, you need to wait at least 15 minutes because the cars pretend they do not see you. I always need to book a taxi with my own money, because there are no buses for handicapped people like me, like there are in many European countries.”

When it comes to finding a job, people in wheelchairs say that prospective employers make them feel useless. Sluhovyna is unemployed and lives on a meager state disability payment. So her dancing has become not only her hobby, but a calling of sorts.

“No employer wants to have staff members who can't even walk and get to work on time. It is an awful feeling when you are sitting at home and doing nothing. You feel people do not need you at all,” Sluhovyna said. “The majority of people in our society would like to throw us in the backyard. This is the most typical situation, especially for Ukraine's disabled, because almost nowhere in Kyiv will you see any special equipment for the disabled.”

The obstacles take their toll on the psyche.

“Only those with a strong spirit and a strong will to live can overcome these hardships and find new goals for life or a new job — not just to “kill time” — but to open up all our inner potential,” Sluhovyna said. “We are normal people and also want to have a happy life and do something useful.”

For more than eight years, Beresil — the Kyiv dancing club where Sluhovyna has so much fun – has popularized wheelchair dancing as a sport and as an effective method of rehabilitation. There are similar clubs in Donetsk, Rivne and Dnipropetrovsk. The club is welcoming to those in wheelchairs, and includes a wide ramp in front and rails in the dancing rooms, which are all located on the ground floor. And, of course, the lessons and coaching are free for the disabled.

“They come here to change their attitude to their disability,” said Serhiy Marchenko, executive director of Beresil sport club.

Though relatively new in Ukraine, the activity has been around for hundreds of years, with an estimated 5,000 participants in 40 nations. It appeared as a method of rehabilitation in Britain in the 16th century. Holland is credited with being the first nation to hold ballroom wheelchair dance competitions. Every year in Ukraine, a national wheelchair dance championship attracts up to 40 couples.

Ukrainians have more handicaps to overcome than some of their international counterparts. Lighter and more flexible wheelchairs cost more than Hr 35,000 ($7,600), too expensive for most Ukrainian dancers. Instead, they rely on heavy, rigid wheelchairs weighing 18 kilos (39 lbs) – more than twice the weight of ones used by some foreign counterparts. Still, the Ukrainians outperform in competitions.

While winning competitions is nice, the true victory is the triumph of the human spirit when faced with difficult circumstances. As English neurologist Ludwig Guttman, who founded the Paralympic competitions for those with mental and physical disabilities, said: “It is not about what is lost, but what remains.”

For Sluhovyna, what remains inside her is far cheerier than some of the attitudes she sees around her.

“For me it is always strange to see gloomy and miserable looking people on the streets of Kyiv,” Sluhovyna said. “They should feel themselves happier than I am, but I feel it is vice versa.”