Everything families ask before they trust us.

We work only in the western regions, hundreds of kilometres from the front line, where daily life goes on. It is still a country at war, and we plan accordingly: written protocol, war-risk insurance, briefed drivers, daily check-ins to your family. The whole protocol is published on the Safety page — read it before you decide anything.

Every day’s route is planned with known shelters along it, your phone carries the official alert app, and the decision to pause a day is ours — made early, without drama. Most alerts in the west pass without incident; we follow the protocol every time anyway.

It is agreed in writing before you pay: dates move, or the money for everything not yet booked returns — your choice. If a journey must shorten while underway, the plan pulls westward or ends early.

It can matter enormously. Under martial law, male Ukrainian citizens aged 18–60 are generally not permitted to leave the country — even lifelong residents of Canada or the US, if they ever held citizenship. We check this in writing with every traveller before anything is booked.

Often, yes. Surname distribution, parish structures and emigration records narrow things down more than families expect. In our reply to your request we tell you honestly whether it is enough — and if it is not, what single document from your attic would change that.

Probably none of them. Names were written down by ear in three empires’ spellings. Matching those distortions against historical gazetteers is the first thing we do, and the free village finder on this site does the first pass of it.

Yes. Galicia’s records are organised by parish and confession — Greek Catholic, Roman Catholic, Orthodox and Jewish communities each kept books, and we know which archives hold which. Mixed families are normal, not an obstacle.

Honestly: it varies too much to quote a number. Where a family line stayed in the district, we often find them; where whole villages were resettled or emptied, we may not. What we never do is promise relatives to make a sale — you get our real assessment in the first written reply.

Then we say so — ideally in our first reply, before you have paid anything. Roughly one case in ten ends there. And a $140 records check exists precisely so that nobody pays for a day in the archive to discover that the books burned.

Four things, and you can check every one of them. First: our prices are published, down to what a day in the village or in the archive costs — most of this trade hides them behind “contact us”. Second: before you pay, you know what happens if nothing is found — on a day in your village, half comes back. Third: our safety protocol is published in full, including the regions we refuse to enter. Fourth: we turn down cases we believe are hopeless, at the free assessment, and charge nothing for saying so. We also work in six languages — Portuguese and Spanish included, which matters if your family went to Brazil or Argentina rather than Canada.

Because that is how it is actually done. A day in the reading room and a day in the village cost the same road and the same working day whether the register holds three entries or thirty, so a fixed price for the day is the honest one. Larger research is several such days, and its price is fixed in writing after a $140 records check, once it is known which books exist. Archive copying fees are not ours; if an archive charges anything, you hear the sum before anything is paid.

We do not publish one figure, because it would be wrong for most families: it depends on how many of you travel, for how many days, how far apart the villages are and which hotels you choose. The price is set in writing once the research is done and the days are planned, with each part priced openly. Most families start much smaller — a records check or a day in the village — which is also how the journey itself is prepared.

Once you have agreed in writing what will be done. Each piece of work is paid in full when you commission it, and it starts as soon as the payment arrives — a day in the village or in the archive has to be booked, and files ordered, in advance. What protects you is stated before you pay: on a day in your village, if nothing of your family is found, half the fee comes back.

Before any money moves, you receive an email naming exactly what will be done, and the invoice with the payment details and the scope of work on it. From the US the payment is an ordinary domestic bank transfer to US account details, not an international wire; from Europe, a SEPA transfer in euros. We cannot accept cheques, money orders or Zelle. Everything about the founder is checkable in public records — the About page lists where.

Very possibly — the itinerary bends to you, not the other way around. Shorter days, fewer transfers, a car that reaches the cemetery gate. Where a journey would genuinely be unwise, we say so and film the village for you instead.

For the first hour, perhaps. Then an old woman takes your hands and starts naming your grandfather’s brothers, and the translator can barely keep up. Language has never once been the barrier families feared it would be.

Please bring them. The village day lands differently when three generations stand at the same gate, and we plan the days so that everyone can manage them.

Journeys run in the warmer months and planning takes four to six months: research first, then dates, then logistics. For a summer journey, write to us the previous autumn or winter.