"Social" markets
"Social" markets
Yesterday I joined a Ukrainian refugee in grocery shopping. We visited two "social" markets in Vienna with the person's membership card. One was disappointing, the other was pretty great.
Austrian media headlines these days are filled with bold statements about food inflation and the government’s so-called battle to help ordinary people afford what is no longer affordable: gas and electric bills, food shopping. Food prices have risen something like 20% year on year in Austria (much higher than overall inflation which is still running at a staggering 11%, well above the EU average), so the government, in an attempt to look like it is doing something, put a bunch of ministers and supermarket chain executives in a conference room a few days ago. The result? Nothing substantive yet. But this all got me thinking, because Ukrainians tell me one of the ways they are somehow managing to feed themselves in Austria is by shopping in “social” markets or at charity food distribution points. Social markets (there are several different operators as I understand it) require customers to register, receive a membership card, and this is handed out based on one’s low-income status.
A Ukrainian I know well in Vienna offered to take me into a few stores, so I could see for myself what the experience is like. We met mid-day in front of a rather large shop in central Vienna. (I am not naming names here nor using the photos I took because I didn’t ask permission so I will do my best with words.) The shop has limited opening hours, 10am - 2pm on weekdays except for one when it is open until 6pm. Closed on weekends. There is a rather nice looking coffee shop when you first walk in, with prices like €0.70 for an espresso. One older man was sitting at a table; otherwise it was empty.
The rest of the store was large but the selection was disappointing. There were plenty of empty shelves, and the assortment reflected whatever “leftovers” had been passed over, rather than the selection you would expect to try and eat nutritiously on a limited budget. I had expected giant packages of beans and rice, and instead I saw a lot of leftover cheese of one kind, and plenty of full-sugar pudding. A very tiny, sad selection of fresh fruit & vegetable (limited to 4 sorts per purchase), stale-looking bread, and random things like expired dough for making quiche but I didn’t see eggs. There is plenty of baking accessories, ice cream, potato chips. I did not see any fresh meat or poultry, but I did see vegan/veggie substitutes. Many of the dairy products were so expired (burrata dated April twenty something) that I would not recommend anyone risk eating fresh cheese that far past its expiry date. Expired pudding is one thing, probably won’t make you sick, but burrata? I wouldn't risk it.
The Ukrainian I was with bought 3 or 4 puddings, one ice cream, some leftover pizza slices which looked like they had been re-wrapped from a cafeteria, and a Serbian salami roll. The total was €7.50. There were also non-food items, like shampoo and conditioner, and discounted diapers, but only in one size. There was a selection at the back of used clothes for sale that most people wouldn’t take for free (I have seen far nicer selections both at Train of Hope and Carla).
The staff were incredibly friendly and hard-working. You can pay with a debit card. The store was busy. But you cannot do a full shop there. I saw Ukrainian moms with kids. There were elderly Austrians and immigrants of other nationalities. I walked away with the impression, if you have time, you can visit on a regular basis and see what got brought in, but this store, at least based on the selection I saw yesterday, could not be a substitute for visiting “normal” supermarkets. There were free cucumbers at the entrance.
We then moved to a different district of Vienna, a little bit further out from the city center, and visited a tiny store run by a different organization. If the first store appears to be sponsored by big state-funded organizations, the second store is a “Verein” meaning a registered charity (like Cards for Ukraine). It too operates several stores across Vienna. The selection, despite the store’s small size, was really good. There were fresh berries, even watermelon quarters, apples, fresh spinach, herbs, many yogurts and other dairy products to choose from. I looked for sour cream but found creme fraiche (two days expired but for sure still edible). The other customers nodded in agreement that it would be a good substitute. The mood was friendly and the shop was very busy.
There were huge bags of pasta in 5kg and 10kg, exactly what I expected to see. Even spices, so many spices, some of which curiously were labelled in Russian and Chinese. Hungarian soup mixes. Ariel washing liquid for the washing machine, a huge bottle for 100 washes marked down from €21 to €10. There was meat and cold cuts. Treats for kids. Coffee. In short, a small store with a really decent selection. The Ukrainian quickly filled a hand-held basked with food and we took it to the cash register. After presenting a membership card, the cashier then began counting — the old-fashioned way. Moving each good from original basket to new basket, saying out loud “€1” then €2” then “€2.50”. She was doing the math in her head. Impressive. We walked out with a large basket of goods for something like €15 (I insisted on paying), including even fresh fruit and some kind of iced tea latte. The Ukrainian was quick to remind me the selection isn’t always this good. I replied there was even day-old sushi, the same kind I buy sometimes in Spar, and I was sure you could still eat it, especially the veggie ones.
I think the biggest difference between the stores was the feeling you have when you leave realising you have acquired some really nice and nutritious food for a fraction of the supermarket price. Staff were very friendly in both places. Both shops were well-staffed and busy with customers. On our way out of the second shop, I even noticed a poster saying they offer gift cards in €10 increments. A lightbulb went off. We will look into it further.
I said I wouldn’t name names but I think in the case of the second shop, I would really like to encourage you to support a charitable organization that from the looks of it is doing really amazing work. They are also open longer hours: 10am to 5pm on weekdays and 10am to 3pm on Saturdays.
I have had so many cards to process this week — for which I am incredibly grateful — but it has also kept me very busy! Feeling a little burned out and de-motivated after hearing so many stories of frustration and desperation in such a short period of time. A cancer patient stuck in the arrival center with no housing in Vienna despite being cared for now by AKH doctors. Several families, each with their own story, stuck for the moment in “no man’s land”, a hostel in Vienna that is perfectly fine in terms of living conditions but is not permanent housing and they cannot stay: no address, no Meldezettel, no blue card. Earlier this week I heard someone say cynically that Austria will soon provide Ukrainians with free tickets back to Ukraine. It would not surprise me in the least. Even the Ukrainians who arrived here a year ago cannot believe that those arriving now are not receiving housing.
“But surely the cancer patients get something?”.
“No, I explain, there are no more guarantees.”
“But there are rooms available, people are leaving…”
“Yes, but someone has to assign those rooms, and that is all done centrally and with what logic I have no idea. I just see a slowdown that mirrors a shutdown, almost. A trickle of new assignments. You reject two addresses you get nothing.”
“So is Austria closed?”
“Officially, it is not. Unofficially…”
I keep saying to myself: our project is only a tiny drop in a very large bucket but it is a meaningful drop to those who receive our help. All the funds raised at the book & bake sale, 55 cards worth, have been distributed. Those cards when to folks who have been waiting months on our website waiting list. I received more cards this week, as well (the online gift vouchers make it so much easier for people to buy gift cards and simply email them to me, and all I have to do is print them out), which means when people text me now they more or less immediately (as fast as I can work) receive help. As desperation increases, many try to ask me a second time. I use my judgement in these cases. It feels terrible, but I know I have to stick to some kind of regiment or it would be unfair to everyone who is waiting patiently.
This afternoon I will meet with a woman and her boyfriend. They are both in wheelchairs. They have had some kind of horrible, complicated drama happen to them since they arrived in Austria, and are now living in a remote village in Lower Austria but seeing doctors and going to hospitals in Vienna. I agreed to meet them for coffee and hear their story. It somehow feels like the least I can do, despite explaining to them I am not a “real” journalist and I have no tangible influence on the authorities here.
I would recommend reading Beyond Ukraine’s Offensive for a comprehensive, thoughtful look of what might lie ahead. And then I would think about this, as this commentator so thoughtfully noted today:
The Ukrainians I speak with recently are exhausted: physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially. This morning I spoke with a woman who has been in Austria since February with her elderly mother (in a wheelchair, dementia) and her husband (also in a wheelchair, paralysed on on half of his body after a stroke). They still do not have blue cards because in each housing situation they have been in (arrival center, then Haidihof that closed, now the temporary hostel) they have not been able to register due to…bureaucracy. They do not know what to do. She was offered space in a nursing home for her mother and husband, but she herself would not be allowed to live there with them as she does not require nursing care. But the nights, she tells me, the nights are the hardest, how can I leave mom there alone? So she is thinking what to do. Maybe they will go back to Ukraine, to Lviv, where her son is, doing odd jobs, renting a room. The family are from near this bridge to the left bank in Kherson. She understands, very clearly, there is no going back now, maybe not ever, she says. When they fled they went via Crimea then all the way through Russia. Imagine such a journey with two very handicapped family members, and then you get to Austria, and Austria cannot even give you a Meldezettel. It blows your mind, and not in a good way.
A grandmother and a young mother and a baby come up to take Spar cards from me. We have to shop in small doses, they explain, our rooms have no fridges. I sigh. I had, of course, assumed maybe small fridges. Not even that.
And so it goes. With no end in sight. And remember back in Ukraine, there is economic hardship everywhere you look. People are losing their jobs, inflation on basic goods is even worse than here, and those with jobs are seeing their salaries slashed. All of this must be taken into account when we talk about the future of the war. In short, I cannot speak to military morale, but civil morale feels low, at least amongst those I meet and speak with.