Heavy heart (Day 45)
Horrible attack in Kramatorsk, more stories from Vienna's train station, more stories from Kyiv countryside that spent weeks under Russian occupation, French elections, phase two of the war?
I didn't write yesterday because I came home from the train station and thought I cannot do this anymore. It takes all my energy to be completely focused and helpful and understanding and do crisis management when I am there, for those few hours, not to fall apart. Add in normal life (ordinary problems that don’t go away no matter how often you try to sweep them under the rug), and the storm that has building since February just sort of imploded on me yesterday. I came home and lay down. I couldn’t do anything.
Today is a new day and I started working off a checklist. Money in, money out. Credit card paid. Check messages. Good news: one of the women from this story (originally from Donestk, became a refugee in 2014, moved to Kyiv) has now rented, together with a friend, a small flat in Vienna’s 16th district thanks to a kind Austrian family who reached out to me on Twitter. Happy endings. There are so few of them but I cherish each and every one. That is now two housing situations I have been able to solve for Austrians and Ukrainians when the flat/room was listed with Diakonie but never filled. Me, with my iPhone, moving between Twitter DMs and Whats App. It’s not rocket science. Luckily, in both cases, the Ukrainian women speak great English and this helps so much. It means I don’t have to be the telephone. They engage and seek contact with the Austrians themselves and then both sides of the housing arrangement work directly with each other. Beautiful. I sent back lots of heart emojis.
Yesterday, I met a “big boned” pug called Bandit (gangster in Russian). He is living somewhere in the middle of nowhere Lower Austria, but his owners want to got to Italy soon. They have a friend or relative already there. They think there will be work there. There are only train tickets for April 15. The Easter school holidays have started in much of Europe, and that means it is getting harder and harder to get train tickets for Ukrainians to Italy, Germany, France. A seat reservation is hard to come by, and when possible, costs €3.50 per person per train. I always pay for this when I am translating at the ticket counter, but of course the other volunteer translators will likely not have such funds.
The next problem is your train is only in three days time, where do you sleep? The giant Wien Messe with hundreds of others and you might be robbed by fellow travellers (yes, this too happens)? I tried and failed to find hotels for three nights for a group of five young women and three little kids from Odesa yesterday. The charity operating the free hotel rooms on behalf of the city of Vienna (not the charity on the train station) called the city; the city said no. The women and kids must go to Wien Messe. I took one look at the women — middle class, iPhones, and told them to use the internet and search for a cheap hotel or apartment for those three nights. I could see they could afford something. The cost of having what they have with them potentially be robbed would be higher. I bought a new suitcase at Spar for one of the women whose bag had broken and she had her things in two plastic shopping bags. She was really grateful. I apologised that I couldn’t afford to help with 3 hotel rooms for 3 nights. We got them a ticket to the cafeteria, and showed them a bank branch that is changing Ukrainian currency to Euro (max €300 per person). The large group from Odesa are on their way to Spain, via Paris on Monday. They have one friend already there. I agreed it’s probably smartest to go where you already have someone.
I met a mom with three school-aged boys. She was very quiet at first, then opened up. They had been in Milan. Whatever happened to them in Italy, it was not good. She asked for help getting tickets to a mid-sized Polish city. Someone was waiting there. I helped her with the tickets, then walked them to the cafeteria. I told her she wasn’t the only one who had a bad experience in Europe. As soon as you get to the cafeteria the whole put on your FFP2 mask drama starts again, which is pretty ridiculous since people are eating and drinking there anyway. The Ukrainians cannot understand our official obsession with masks. The masks we hand out for free are the worst, most uncomfortable kind, which must be why the charity has so many. I find myself apologising all the time for the mask situation. ÖBB has more comfortable masks, I usually try to pass out some of theirs instead. People who fled bombs are simply not thinking about covid anymore. Understandable, to be honest.
Early in the morning I met a large, organized group of 22 people from Kyiv, some in wheelchairs, some with trouble walking. They were on their way to France. Security came to help build a manual lift that would lift the two wheelchairs to the level of the train. Three men showed up. They walked alongside as the Ukrainian women and kids walked with all their stuff to the train. One of the women looked at me and said, in Russian, “our guys would have grabbed the suitcases and helped.” I understood what she meant, but told her not to waste time thinking about such things. 99% of Ukraine’s brave men are at home defending all of Europe, and most of Europe still hasn’t registered this fact. One of the guys did then jump in to help lift suitcases onto the train, making a loud grunting sound as if to make a joke about how heavy they were. The women didn’t laugh. They had been carrying those bags themselves for days. I helped them onto the train. German passengers were sitting in the neighbouring car, wondering what was happening. The Ukrainians even had flags on their backpacks and luggage, as if to answer the obvious questions which must arise. I wished them all good luck in France. I grabbed a dozen orange juices for them on the way; water would only be delivered at 9am. Classic.
I don’t remember how I ran into her, but mid-morning I found myself standing in front of Lena. Lena from Kramatorsk. Late 50s, solidly built, very nervous. Did you see what they did, she said to me? She was referring to the horrendous rocket attack on the Kramatorsk train station that morning, but I hadn’t seen the news yet, as I had been running around the Vienna train station. Lena demanded I walk her to the platform although there was still an hour until her train. She made me check her ticket six times. I offered to get snacks, she didn’t want to let me go. I ran quickly to the convenience store and filled a bag with fruit, nuts, a hot sandwich, drinks. I ran back. Lena was still waiting. Please don’t leave me, Tanechka. Her daughter and two grandsons left for Germany a month before. They already had an apartment. Lena’s husband stayed behind. He isn’t 60 yet. He told her to go, “I’ll stay here”. I promised Lena I would come back as soon as the train was due to arrive.
I run into two families from Mykolaiv. They have tickets to Germany issued in Romania, but no seat reservations. There is no time to get a seat reservation, and even if there was enough time, likely the train is already full, you can’t book anymore. I told them to get on and hope for the best. If that seat is taken, you move. And repeat. I helped them understand their connections and arrival times. Where can we smoke here on the platform? Technically, nowhere. But if you go in that corner probably no one will see you. Not enough time to go outside the station. The kids were stressed. The mom was stressed and yelled a bit. I tried to just keep them all calm. The little girl sat holding a little stuffed pink unicorn. I thought of it later when I saw the bloody teddy bear lying on the ground in Kramatorsk.
The giant German train pulls into the station and it’s madness. Lena and I run towards her train car, I help her get on board, and wish her good luck. And that’s it. And then it’s over. And then you usually never hear what happens next. One of the elderly men from Mykolaiv told me he has relatives all over the U.S. — from Portland to Pennsylvania. But he is going to Germany. Getting to the U.S. right now feels next to impossible. I had to nod in agreement.
Weekend suggested reading / viewing in no particular order:
I am haunted by this quote, I think it speaks volumes:
CNN from Chernobyl. I have not found a link but I have heard whispers of Russian soldiers are being treated for radiation exposure in hospitals in large Russian cities (not Moscow). No one is going to talk about this out loud for obvious reasons. But leaks will appear online, surely. The city I heard mentioned does have a hospital capable of treating such patients. This story from a few days ago sheds light on what we do know so far. Truly unbelievable, even by Russian standards, how ill-prepared the soldiers were sent into such a still highly radioactive area. We were told about the Red Forest during our tour in early February.
BBC interviews Mariupol survivors in Zaporozhye, Ukraine:
BBC audio interview with Mariupol residents tricked into being evacuated to Russia who then fled to Estonia:
Christoph Reuter (in German) from Kramatorsk (click for video):
Der Spiegel cover story from Bucha now in English:
This is getting long so I had better stop here, but other things I am thinking about, briefly. The French election. I would love to read to the end of this but alas, paywall. If France falls to the far right, that is the end of EU. Macron should spend less time attacking Poland and more time figuring out how to win. The phone calls with Putin seem to be the same mistake Merkel made for many years. On that topic, this excellent podcast on Germany’s massive three decade long Russia miscalculation:
If you understand Russian, also listen to this interview with Simon Ostrovsky. Simon’s PBS video report from Bucha is here.
Final thoughts, and perhaps I’ll use tomorrow to expand on them. I am very worried phase two of this war, the war for the east of Ukraine and Donbas, could last a very long time. That this is all only the beginning. Why? Well, just read these series of tweets:
There was also another article in Russian out supposedly with some experts making similar arguments.
In the comments the piece is pretty trashed, so it’s hard to say how much is hot air vs real military analysis. Not my forte. I would just say, from my personal perspective, it’s far too premature to celebrate that Kyiv is won, for good. Russia is still a massive country, doesn’t seem to care how many men it sends to their death. It is regrouping resources, working on plan B. Belarus? How long does Lukashenko hold out? Also unclear. His men clearly do not want to fight in Ukraine. But he also wants to stay in power, so…for now he has managed to tell Putin no. But for how long? Yesterday, Belarus state media posted Lukashenko saying “Russia is our reliable partner, we will always be together with Russia, we are for peace, we don’t want any war, nothing can be decided without our participation…the Belarusian people will not accept any kind of war, any kind of conflict.” The question is, though, will Russia even ask?
Thank you for reading. I plan to be back at the train station tomorrow. Every day a new day. New challenges. New opportunities.
I'm grateful for the women and children you met today that you were able to get up and push through the storm. You are a blessing to each human life you encounter. Thank you for sharing yourself with all of us.