The Ukrainian artist now living in Vienna whom I wrote about here posted this painting on her Instagram about a week ago and I was immediately in love. It is my Vienna: beautiful, dark, melancholy. Today’s weather matched. I left my house in plenty of time for a meeting of fifteen women I had organized via my Telegram group so they could fill out applications for child benefit (Familienbeihilfe) with the help of an angel of a tax advisor, only to discover torrential rain (in bursts, alternating with sunshine) and I had forgotten my phone at home. I arrived at 13:59. Our chosen meeting spot was actually closed for renovation. We improvised. It worked out great. Another volunteer joined us, a teenager, originally from Russia, now working part-time for Caritas.
It was amazing. In a matter of hours, we helped nearly two dozen mothers fill out their applications, the hero of a tax consultant photocopied everyone’s documents, and even provided envelopes which will be sent off to the finance ministry tomorrow morning. What can feel like an overwhelming task when you are alone becomes a social event when you do it all together and have people there to ask questions of if you are not sure. This was our second time doing it in a group, and it was much smoother this time around. Navigating Austria’s bureaucracy is not impossible, but it does take a village. It felt like a very productive use of a few hours of a Sunday afternoon.
In between, I answered questions. About cancer patients. About housing. About registration. About school. About work. The questions are now more long-term in nature. I once sent each them a Hofer card, which helped for a week’s worth of groceries, but there are big practical questions looming in the background. A landlord who kindly provided housing but the deadline to move out is October 31. A son who really needs to do online school in Ukraine so as not to fall behind, but the Austrians insist on his physical presence in local school. A grown daughter who is in Canada and mom tries to say stay there but the young woman wants to go home to Ukraine. She is in love. Collective sigh. A middle aged mom with cancer and a teenager who is so grateful for treatment but asks if there is any extra support because she won’t be able to work anytime soon. I listen and try to show empathy and explain I do not know, I have not found any extra resources for cancer patients despite asking. I will keep asking.
Yesterday I found myself confronted with urgent phone calls about situations I am not in any position to give advice regarding. These calls start to make me feel really uncomfortable because I do not now who to turn to, and most likely the answer is there is no one to turn to, which makes the situations essentially nearly lawless. I find myself not wanting to answer the phone when an unknown Ukrainian or Austrian number calls, because I am simply afraid of what might be on the other end of the line.
This morning an old man called me at 8am. I explained it’s 8am on a Sunday and please send me a text message instead. Sometimes it is all just too much.
But then it is so wonderful to hear about all the connections made between people in need and people willing to help. A fellow mom sent me a list on Friday of things she had to donate: clothes, games, furniture. By Saturday evening, she texted me she had appointments to help eight (!) families. Today at our meeting I met a woman who received a bed and mattress the day before. I love how we as a group are using technology to make connections. These items didn’t have to be put on display in a charity shop; there was no middle man. It makes for much faster and efficient distribution of donated items directly to those who need them. Ukrainians in my group have started to post their own ads with children’s clothes they have outgrown, a pram for a newborn, etc. For free. From one home to the next. Lovely.
Last week was really great in terms of donations (thank you, Klimabonus!) and I was able to work off a lot of my own little waiting list for €50 supermarket cards. I now have about two dozen envelopes waiting. Mario also has his next big batch of cards almost read to go out (get better soon!). Step by step, we are still providing help to those in need. I know a grocery card does not solve a lack of a job or place to live or registration or school headaches, but it does help put some food and basic items on the table, and it is a sign that ordinary people care about the fate of Ukrainians seeking protection in Europe. It is not moving mountains, but it is meaningful. To help us, please contribute here or here.
A grandfather I know in Vienna, he went back to Ukraine to bring some of his younger relatives out with him. They are outside of Kharkiv, and he worries about them, ahead of winter. He texted me from the train, on his way towards Kyiv. It was a real reality check of the economic situation on the ground in Ukraine right now.
In Lviv, there are lots of people and cars on the streets and by the train station. In Kyiv, the station was empty and there were not many people or cars on the streets. I took the platzkart wagon to Kyiv and it was full of students and adults who were probably heading to Kyiv to try and earn some money. The wagon was awful and a lot of the people looked like they are really struggling. I put on my FFP2 mask and they looked at me strangely. In Ukraine there is no more covid, you see...I say to them I am in shock about everything I have seen and it's scary to even breathe in here.
I haven’t had the concentration to read a lot recently, but I would recommend this reporting on what happened to schools within Russian-occupied territory in Ukraine. I keep thinking about this generation of kids, their lives permanently changed by a war no one except one sadistic man and his entourage wanted.
For more on the fighting erupting in between Azerbaijan/Armenia and Kyrgystan/Tajikistan, I found this thread to be very informative.
I would love to recommend more but I haven’t had the focus. I have been thinking about this coming week: a few important meetings to talk about the refugee crisis, my grocery card waiting list, the never-ending flow of text messages, a gorgeous A5 flyer which I should be able to print soon, beautifully designed by a fellow volunteer and translated into Ukrainian, which I will start to leave on expensive Ukrainian cars parked around Vienna. A chemo translation appointment, covid test to do before that. Parent-teacher nights at school times three (I dread these).
I said I would buy the Blue Vienna paining. The artist posts her work here. She asked for a very modest price. I doubled it. I cannot afford more right now either.
Do you all remember the artist 13 year old Sonya? Her mother Larysa wrote me. They happily sold two of her paintings to a generous reader in New York. They are so grateful. There was a local art show outside of Vienna recently. Sonya’s paintings raised an incredible €950 for charity which they will send to help orphans in Ukraine.
I almost forgot! In my last post I wrote about the soccer players from Ukraine whom we welcomed in April and who have since struggled to find a permanent place in Austria. Yesterday I received quite the update:
Let’s hope it helps. Let’s hope it all helps. Let’s hope that sharing these struggles and stories is not just for the sake of documenting history, but also results in some positive changes. Like the issues I mentioned regarding school, for example:
Thank you for reading. Thank you for your continued support.
Quite amazing resilience shown by everyone. Thanks Tanja for your warm heart and kindness. OT--Parent-teacher conferences-- uggh. many teachers, so little time. NYC schools have only stairs...I always had to put sneakers on to make it through the annual visits. Best of luck! --christopher