What is leaving and how it is to live among those who still stand. I rose in my hometown situated in the north of Transnistria and never knew anything about the outside world apart of few memories from Ukraine, where I spend a short time of my childhood. Long enough, after moving to Moldova, I never thought about my hometown. When I started to practice photography, apparently the first thing I wanted to document was this split of unrecognized land, that finds its identity somewhere between the war for independence and its Soviet past. But soon enough I faced the fact that I framed my narrative in the same cliche-istic manner as "other" media did. From that moment I tried to understand what this piece of land means to me and it brought me back to the town of my home place. I thought it would be a good idea to understand myself and people living there, through memories and parallels with my, still living there, relatives. But, apparently, there was no vivid memory that can shake my feelings. So I started to go there more often and spend time with family to retake those memories an understand this bank of childhood that was divide from another world as well as it is divided from me being on another side. I was curious to understand why it is left by its people even more than Moldova(the most shrinking country in Europe) and what it is to be on a verge of choosing. I can't pretend to give answers but at least to touch the feeling of the place that once allowed me to feel the air while running through the apple gardens.