Long days
And short summer nights. Ukraine continues to battle electricity cuts and deadly attacks. A terrorist attack in Dagestan, Russia. EU does not view housing additional refugees as a political priority.
Yesterday, I placed the last of my Hofer card supply in an envelope to send to a mom and child who arrived recently from Ukraine to join their relatives, and are living in a village I have never heard of before in Austria. As the months roll on, with no end to the war in sight, I must admit our little aid program feels rather futile, like a drop in a giant lake. But I know that for every family it reaches, it is a help, albeit a very temporary one.
The thing is, and I repeated this mantra again this week to my Telegram group: it has now become abundantly clear that no one is coming to save you. Even if you are fleeing a Ukrainian town near the front, as one mom told me this morning, where you saw drones and rockets fly by when you were on the playground with your six year-old. Despite this, your six year-old would still prefer to live in Ukraine. That is because she has not witnessed firsthand, thankfully, what those flying objects can do, I explain to the young mother. She nods in understanding.
Meanwhile, I have been fielding many requests for advice from people still in Ukraine or Ukrainians already here trying to help friends and family leave now. After having had an informative conversation this week with some involved in the government response, I can say with confidence that additional housing capacities are not planned. This while most Ukrainian cities are experiencing daily power cuts of 6-8 hours per day. As this mom said to me this morning, “what will we do in winter?!”.
This is all really de-motivating because I feel this huge obligation to tell people straight up that it is really, really risky to come unless you have a little nest egg with which you can rent a room or an apartment until you find a job (also quite the challenge) and stand on your own legs. Today, I received a message in desperation from a woman in Salzburg with a toddler begging me to help her husband find a job. Any job. Even in another city. He has some experience in kitchens. I told them to walk their neighbourhood and go in every restaurant, asking if they need help. It isn’t a bird in hand but I don’t have one to offer.
Making predictions is a fool’s game, so I will just present the facts as I see them. I am not hearing from any families choosing to go back to Ukraine this summer (in contrast to the previous two summers). I am hearing about an uptake in new arrivals, and am fielding questions from those considering coming. Aside from offering a means of applying for a long-term work permit / permanent residency status for qualified Ukrainians (a very minimal percentage of those currently residing in Austria under “temporary protection” of the EU), I see no evidence of plans at any government level to deal with increased numbers of arrivals. I do not know the situation in other EU countries, but I can imagine it is similar. I read this article earlier this week about increasingly negative attitudes towards Ukrainians in Poland. As I noted then on “X”, I think much of this can be tied to the “temporary” status. No one knows how long-term the EU will handle the millions of Ukrainians now living here from a legal status. This causes a great deal of background stress for those living in limbo. Multiply that if you are a man whose passport is about to expire and cannot be renewed without a trip home to register with the military and then you would not be let out of Ukraine again. Nothing compared to being on the front, no doubt, but still, not exactly normal life either.
You have to learn to live with a baseline level of uncertainty which is quite high, not to mention financial insecurity.
Turning to Russia, if you have two hours (I know, I know), I would really recommend watching this excellent documentary about modern-day Chechnia. Frankly, I am not sure the Russian journalists who made the film fully understand what this may mean for their own personal safety, even if living in Europe. It does have English subtitles. I thought I knew a fair amount, but even I was shocked by some of it.
Reading the news this evening, I saw reports there has been an Islamist attack in neighbouring Dagestan, targeting a church and a synagogue. The story is unfolding. Two accounts I would trust from experts who know the region well and follow local news sources here and here.
No matter the image of total control Putin tried to convey in North Korea (!!) this week, it is a myth. Any empire cannot fully control all of its subjects. Much like the attack in Moscow’s Crocus City mall, Russia does not have full control over would-be Islamist terrorists amongst its own citizens. They will blame Ukraine, because, who else.
I recommended “Night Train to Odesa” to you in an earlier post, and would like to point out this great review of the book. I have recently been able to pick up books again (it comes and goes in waves), and am in the midst of a great travel memoir. Will write about it once I am done.
It has been a busy week otherwise. My eldest graduated from high school. Here they have a ball (yes really) instead of a prom, and everyone goes — teachers, kids, alumni, parents. It was a zillion degrees and humid without A/C in a palatial Palais in the heart of Vienna. It all felt very Bridgerton. But without the pomp of an American graduation ceremony with caps and gowns and overly emotional speeches, I did manage not to cry. The kids then flew off at an ungodly hour this morning for a week-long beach holiday, all together, the class who spent eight years together. It will surely be an experience to remember. I keep looking in the mirror and wondering how 18 years flew by in the blink of an eye. And then I sit next to a baby or a toddler on the subway and thank my lucky stars that phase is over. Teens are not easy, they never give you a day off, but I will take them any day or night over the little ones.
A few of the photos I have received this past week. Thank you for your continued support of Cards for Ukraine. We keep doing what we can with what we have. We rely entirely on private donations. The funds Austria offers to refugees are not indexed to inflation. They have not been adjusted in twenty years, I am told. €260 per adult and €145 per child, per month. And no, you cannot work full-time if you take this aid. In some cases, it is only €40 per month if the state feeds you. It isn’t enough to survive without other sources of income, official or not. I can imagine by the time this fall rolls around we may face a new housing crisis. The arrival centre in Vienna has 200 beds. When it is full, it simply turns people away. In the past, capacities were expanded to meet needs. This is no longer happening from what I have heard, anecdotally. Of course we would all be thrilled if the war would end tomorrow, but this seems so far from reality if felt strange to even type the words. The entire “situation” has become a new normal. It is scary. Vienna is at the moment filled with tourists from all over the world and public viewing screens of EURO 2024 football, and there are families a day’s drive plus minus from here wondering what to do because they are living without electricity for hours at a time, every day, and they are scared one of the rockets will one day land in their courtyard. Just imagine for a second what the constant stress levels must feel like. Everyone I ask who has recently come back from visiting Ukraine expresses the same sentiment: exhaustion.
We here are not exhausted. I just wish we had better news to share. We do what we can to inform with the latest information we receive. But it doesn’t feel like much nor that anyone really cares anymore. Which I understand. Each of us faces his/her own issues every day in our own lives. We have limited capacity to worry about problems that do not directly affect us.
It reminded me of a conversation I had this week with someone of secular Turkish origin, who said, without even thinking about it — “I don’t see borders”, and I knew exactly what she meant. I too would love to live in a world in which none of us see borders. But it feels ever more unrealistic, unfortunately.