People holding Crimean flags gather at Lenin Square in central Simferopol to celebrate the referendum on March 16. Photo: Li Qian/GT

I began to feel the weight of history on my way to Crimea.

In March, when the then Ukrainian territory had been taken over by the nominally local pro-Russian militants, I had to change my flight to transit through Moscow in order to be allowed into the region.

It became clear at that point that Russia was about to step out from behind the curtain and take back the territory that had long existed in the sphere of its influence.

This move also marked the official start of Russia's soured relationship with the West, which to date has seen Russia become increasingly isolated, while sinking into an economic turmoil as a result of international sanctions.

Given Russian President Vladimir Putin's strong stance back when international reporters were rushing to Crimea in March, it was not difficult to foresee that relations between Russia and the West were about to heat up.

However, when I arrived at Simferopol, the peninsula's capital, apart from the political situation and journalist-packed central city squares, I was impressed by the peace and tranquility in this small city of only 340,000 people. Though the streets weren't maintained very well - the trees and shrubs were growing wild and I didn't see a single street sweeper or police officer thanks to widespread tax evasion that resulted in a shortage of government funding - yet life still went on its orderly way without public services, and the people looked to be at peace and were enjoying life.

Free wifi could be found everywhere, and currency exchanges felt easier to spot than my time in London. Apart from the language barrier - I don't speak Russian - the city was extremely visitor-friendly. The port city of Sevastopol and the beach resorts at Yalta were even more so while also boasting posher restaurants.

However, under the surface, the region was caught in a dilemma between long-time Russian traditions and Ukraine's determination to Westernize.

Strategists see the power dynamics in the region as decisive for future relations between Russia and the West, as both sides try to maintain and expand their influence throughout the geopolitical map.

Historical tension

Although the crisis may have seemed sudden to some, this war had begun long ago.

While in Crimea, I visited two non-governmental organizations that receive funding from Russia and the US respectively.

The International Media Club (IMC), established by a former Komsomolskaya Pravda journalist, had been operating in Crimea for three years by that time. Its representative Verbizkaya Yuliya made no attempt to hide the purpose of their work, which was, as she put it, "to rejuvenate the structure of Soviet-era communication" in the region.

IMC invites scholars from Moscow to hold lectures attended by locals, including journalists, social activists, writers and directors, at monthly gatherings, as well as cooperate with Crimean universities. The monthly session held immediately before the Crimean referendum had been themed "A new page in Crimean history."

The US-backed organization has a different agenda. The Information and Press Center (IPC), fully funded by the US Agency for International Development, entered Crimea as early as 1997. It used to have branches throughout Ukraine, but later closed its office in Kiev and currently only operates in Crimea and eastern Ukraine.

According to Vera Soboleva, who works at the IPC's Simferopol office, the organization cooperates with all the newspapers in the region, to train journalists in "international standard" media practices, free of charge.

IPC also runs a TV program devoted to revealing government corruption and issues related to state security.

A local government employee told me that more than 100 similar organizations may be operating in Crimea. Funded by Russian, US or EU money, they all have missions to spread their ideas and ideologies.

East Ukraine and Crimea both have a strong ethnic Russian presence, and therefore have become the focus of soft power efforts. It seems, at least for now, the West's ability to utilize its soft power has been unable to compete against ethnic blood ties and an increasingly militarized breakaway faction. 

Superpower fallout

Whatever the result, it's the local people who must bear the consequences.

Recently, I contacted some of the local people I met there through e-mail. They told me that, nine months after the March referendum, the Ukrainian presence is already disappearing from their life. All their documents and papers have to be changed to new ones issued by the current government by the end of this year. Local salaries have increased dramatically to almost double previous amounts, especially for public employees working at schools and hospitals. Pensions have also more than doubled in some cases. However, the prices of daily commodities have also increased dramatically, partly a result of Ukraine's block on goods and water cuts and EU sanctions since the referendum.

After leaving Crimea I headed to Kiev where I met a freelance reporter from Sweden while visiting Kiev's Independence Square.

The reporter told me how, at the height of the protests against former Ukraine president Viktor Yanukovych, a McDonald's beside the square had been temporarily used to treat the injured. He also shared how much he relished the people's fight against their elected president.

As I looked around the square, just a month after the February riots which left hundreds dead or injured, I could see the burned buildings surrounding the area standing like memorials.

A recent UN report said a total 4,707 people have been killed and 10,322 injured from April to mid-December in eastern Ukraine, where separatists' declaration of independence has triggered a civil war.

Looking at the violence that has engulfed the region this past year, while I think it's admirable to pursue lofty ideals, I can't help but think about the cost in lives.