By Tamara Hundorova

Heroes of the Heaven’s Hundred are honored on Maidan

These days, Maidan leaves a macabre impression that blends shame with sorrow. More precisely, it is probably the effect of an open, festering, unhealed wound. Armed people in paramilitary outfits bustle around busily, although, it seems, there is no reason to rush, and people who have settled at Maidan and do not want to leave mill about the barricades covered with wilting flowers. Tourists take pictures against the barricades, scattered flowers or even an armored troop-carrier driven in from somewhere, while Kyivans sneak through the Independence Square on their way to work or home. A surge of shame at seeing bottles or boxes asking for cigarette money for the self-defense units: these are no church beggars, but EuroMaidan Heroes. The faces of those still living on Maidan sport questioning or accusatory expressions, as if asking, “How do…