Nothing is forever
A few reflections after another quick trip to the Balkans, update on Austrian politics and the situation here for Ukrainian refugees. And of course, the grim news from Ukraine itself.
I found myself nearly alone (bliss) in what was probably once a humble fishing village, and now houses a tiny harbour, one small hotel, a few cafes, and probably a couple of Airbnbs. The kind of place best accessed by boat, when one has one. When one does not have one, you must navigate quite the single land road to get there. But the view which you are rewarded with makes the journey worth it. As I was taking random shots of the turquoise blue Adriatic waters, still untouched by the throngs of tourists who invade every July and August, I came across this boat, obviously freshly repainted by an owner with nostalgia for the country that no longer is. Which made me think about how things are changing in the world today, the impermanence of nearly everything, save for the mountains, wildflowers, and the sea. They have seen eras come and go. They alone are witness to it all.
The non-EU countries of the Balkans are a special case, and with each trip to my poison of choice (Montenegro), I see how this buffer zone is emerging. Some parts are extremely well developed, just like neighbouring Croatia if not better. Other places, you scratch just below the surface and you see what lack of investment or corruption or simple state mismanagement results in. A seaside village with a single-lane road that is treacherously impassible in high summer due to the pure volume of cars, many of which SUVs, was fixing the road, now. At the end of May. The entire village dug up, I waited for a German (of course, a German) to jump out of his Mercedes to yell at us all who should move forward, who back, to navigate us out of our traffic jam, and just as I cleared the worst of it, I watched in horror as a Russian woman maneurvered a blue convertible with Moscow plates down from a near-vertical, barely paved side road onto the main drag. She drove the car into rather than onto the road. That was the angle with which she banged the front of her car into the rocks so as to avoid driving into the rest of us from the side. These things, well, they don’t happen to often on Austrian streets. They are just Balkan things. One shrugs and accepts them as the counter to the spectacular nature.
On the roads you see an interesting mix of nearly-equal number of cars from Russia and Ukraine, with a fair number of Belarus plates as well. I met a Ukrainian on my flight who has been in the country for two years with one daughter (who found work and is happy in Montenegro), and was flying to visit her other daughter who is in Vienna. She spoke longingly about wanting to go home, and it was that ache for wanting to go not only home to Ukraine, but also back in time. And yet we all understand how time is moving forward. And that “home” you have frozen in your memory is also not the same as it was.
This weekend I read two wonderful books, both of which I recommend to you all in the strongest possible way, as in please stop reading now and order them online.
Jen Stout is originally from Scotland and has been working in Ukraine as a freelance print and radio journalist. I love her writing so much because her approach reminds me of my own. If you want to read about the inner workings of Ukrainian politics or military strategy, this is not your book. Jen focuses on ordinary people and their not so ordinary stories. She captures, perhaps better than anyone I have read yet writing on Ukraine, the emotions of it all. Her writing is poetic, observant, and with a huge dose of empathy. It reads like a memoir, and it is, a memoir of reporting which required teamwork with dozens of locals, fellow journalists, Ukrainians, those who helped her along the way and those who bravely shared their stories. A fluent Russian speaker, she acknowledges this is a weak point, and goes to Lviv to study Ukrainian for two weeks. From the conversations Jen recalls, I can tell her Russian must be excellent. She picks up on all the nuance and then some. Jen’s honesty and modesty are a breath of fresh air.
If I am not mistaken, it was actually on TikTok where I first heard about Sasha Vasilyuk’s new novel. It is a masterpiece, spanning so much historical detail, several different eras, a family story spanning generations which is rich in detail, plot twists, and emotion. I really could not put it down, despite not loving the cover. In this case the book is much deeper than the cover depicts. At the moment I don’t have a really long attention span, and find reading fiction difficult, but this book was a pleasure. You can tell the author invested years in writing it, as she shares at the end.
While still away this weekend, I was fielding questions because with the horrific news out of Kharkiv, learning that Vienna’s arrival center for Ukrainians, with a maximum capacity of 200 (I am told technically it could sleep more but some rooms are being treated for mold and therefor not usable), was full, and would not be able to accept more new arrivals until a certain number of people would transfer to their permanent housing assignments on Monday. I am told it is a similar situation in cities like Graz and Linz which still maintain a few beds for new arrivals. I do not know what if any plans the government has to expand capacity (I would not bet on it), but reading the news from Ukraine you have to naturally expect some of those families who lasted this long in cities like Kharkiv will finally say, enough is enough, it is time to leave. And the question is, where can they go?
The inflow of Ukrainians to Europe has impacted the real estate markets all over. I see more and more often desperate requests in ordinary Austrian Facebook groups asking for one-room modest apartments in Vienna at rents this city has not experienced in years. I hear every week about Ukrainians being told to move out, or landlords increasing the rent. I was twice at a city of Vienna consultation center with Ukrainians with children asking for housing support, and they were both times told (once quite rudely, the second time with a great deal of sympathy) that due to their legal status of “temporary protection” (as opposed to citizenship or permanent residency), Ukrainians who have lived in Vienna for over two years do not, unlike everyone else, qualify to apply to be on the waiting list for subsidized, municipal housing.
In other words, Europe is broadly only really prepared to accept those Ukrainians long-term who can be financially independent. Mind you this rejection to qualify for municipal was told to a mom who has a part-time as a hotel maid, and lives in a single room with her two daughters and they have to share a bathroom with a man who rents another room in the same house. And she was told that still being married to a husband who is in Ukraine would disqualify her too. She laughed and noted a divorce would be a few clicks in “Dia”. The other woman I helped ask about housing a a grandmother with full custody of her granddaughter as her own daughter is in the Ukrainian army. Also, you would think the kind of people who would qualify for help, at least in theory.
But as I explained to the Ukrainians in my Telegram group today, when the hot topic once again arose of “why do the Syrians/Afghans/insert other non-European nationalities have access to all these benefits and many of them do not really try to learn German well and many don’t have jobs for years?”, Ukrainians have a different status, and this drives so much of the conditions for their stay in Europe. Yes, they have access to the labor market. Yes, they have freedom of movement (well, except for men, but that is due to Ukraine not EU). But they have no long-term security. And this is scary.
From Europe’s perspective, I logically understand their fears of a mass immigration should things take a turn for the worse from a neighbouring country with a huge population. So this is what we are left with. Meanwhile, far right parties collect votes as many European voters express their discontent with seemingly uncontrolled immigration to the EU from other cultures and not necessarily the people most needed to fill the worker shortages in certain industries. Pour in a little casual racism, pent up frustration with the economy by those locals who do work 40 hours a week each week, and you expect a pivot towards Hungary or Slovakia, or at least I do.
Austrian local journalists are still covering a frankly irrelevant story about a 23 year-old with a heck of a lot of gossipy baggage for someone her age who is the Green party’s candidate for the EU election in early June, rather than focusing on the really big issues for many voters: the economy, immigration…
If you read one thing this week about this little alpine nation, I would recommend this:
Putin hijacked Austria’s spy service. Now he's going after its government
The Politico article is the most comprehensive summary I have seen yet (and in English!) of Russia’s successes in infiltrating Austria’s political parties and state security apparatus. They do it the way they always do, by turning insiders into spies for Russia. I see this still today. How even teens who happen to win Russian language as a foreign language competition are then courted by the Russian government, invited to language summer camps and even offered scholarships to study in power. Soft power, some would say. Others would argue in a small nation this is fertile ground for finding future spies, especially for those of conservative political mindset who see men like Trump and Putin more as heroes than villains.
It is not rocket science.
What is surprising, to an outsider, is how little anyone inside Austria actually cares about all this. They (and I include many intellectuals who should know better) much prefer to gossip about stories like the 23 year-old who sent some terribly cheeky (to put it mildly) text messages. The general public is not super politically focused, it feels exactly like the kind of environment when the two extremes — far left and far right may attract good turnout, the middle might just say “meh” and then a minority of the population might really determine the future course of history. As Austria’s population has grown (Vienna feels often these days like it is busting at the seams), its voting population has not. Permanent residents but not citizens (like myself, for example) cannot vote. That swings things decidedly in a certain direction.
So those are my thoughts this Monday evening. Nothing earth-shattering. I still receive daily messages for help, and for a few weeks now I have been explaining I am empty, but Mario has promised to send me some more Hofer cards this week (thank you all), and I am looking forward to helping some of those who reached out to me explaining their situations. Although I know €50 is now buying much now. It is amazing how we have watched our grocery baskets shrink in real time. At least that is what I feels like. My youngest asked me to go buy her a Starbucks tonight as she was studying for a math exam, and I nearly shrieked when the barista pointed to a tab of over €6. For ice, coffee, and sugary syrup. How did we get here?
I will end with this snap from Budva yesterday. The tourists are an odd mix of solidly middle class pensioners from England and Germany, many more Turkish people visiting than even a few years ago (locals tell me they are buying property as a means of avoiding inflation and uncertainty at home), and then you have people who fled Putin: Russian men who fled the draft, Ukrainians who fled their cities. Each time I sat next to Russian speakers, they were talking about home. It is like an open wound. Two young women talking about how they cannot go home to Odesa and do not know when it will be possible. Not anytime soon. A group of three Russian men and one Ukrainian woman, talking about the past. A nostalgia for a country that is no longer, for an era of brotherly friendship long destroyed by rockets and missiles and innocent dead children. I do not know how you put the pieces back together again, other than the cliche phrase that time heals all wounds.
We are going to need a lot of time.
In the meantime, time moves forward, and new eras and countries are formed. What I saw a glimmer of this weekend was a periphery economy near but not in EU. The real estate market is booming — cash is leaving Russia and Ukraine and needs save havens. I was told in a single, small residential development a Ukrainian arrived and bought four apartments in the same building. Can you imagine the monetary flows right now out of war and into seemingly peaceful destinations. It blows my mind.
Meanwhile, so many ordinary people are just simply trying to survive one day to the next. It feels horribly unfair, but I guess the world always was.