Sunday brunch in Podil with Natalia Piskova
The third in a series of ten posts about my recent short trip to Kyiv.
I reached out to contact Natalia in English, per instructions I had received from a Ukrainian mom of three in Austria who was familiar with Natalia and the many hats she wears as a volunteer and at a charity foundation, to name just a few of her roles. I was told Natalia has made a conscientious decision to speak only Ukrainian, English or French. Fair enough. I sent a Telegram message in English from the bus and we agreed on a Sunday brunch in one of my favourite parts of Kyiv: Podil. The neighbourhood of low-lying old brick buildings sits between the Dnipro River and central Kyiv proper perched atop a hill, and is connected to the city by a wonderful funicular. I was unfortunately running late so I opted for the subway. The neighborhood reminds me of a Ukrainian Brooklyn before Brooklyn became mainstream — cool bars, cafes, bookstores, ancient red trams still running on tram lines which weave in and out of streets which remind you just how many decades, centuries of history they have witnessed. Podil was once the center of Jewish life in Kyiv, and you will still find synagogues and see Orthodox Jews on the streets.
I emerged from the subway and raced on the hot Sunday towards the cafe Natalia had assured me serves the best coffee in all of Kyiv (Spelta). She greeted me with a smile, sitting at an outside table for two on the sidewalk. Natalia looks just like the photos she shared with me but now sports a cool above shoulder bob which suits her so well and frames her beautiful face. Natalia is a pro and immediately asked if I wanted to record our conversation. I explained I am old and prefer to take shorthand notes. Natalia orders me a cappuccino (it is indeed very strong and very good), and begins to tell me her story.
Before the war, Natalia (you can find her on Twitter here — we both lament the death of the platform in Musk’s hands, as for both of us it has been instrumental in helping us help people in need) had studied psychology and meditation and was working as a mindfulness facilitator. She is now working on a new podcast, War Life Balance, with her American boyfriend, Benya Stewart (the couple met in Kyiv last year when Benya came to visit from Ohio; he has now accepted a job offer in Kyiv to teach English and is in the process of moving to Ukraine). The podcast aims to share stories about how the war is affecting ordinary Ukrainians.
Our conversation begins the way nearly all my conversations with Ukrainians do these days, turning the clock back to February 24, 2022. Natalia was working in Kyiv, and her brother had just had a baby with his wife on February 4. After hearing the first explosions at 5am in Kyiv that morning, the siblings decided the safest option would be to head to the village in Cherkasy oblast where their parents live: Samoridnya. Natalia could help with her baby niece. When they arrived, Natalia also volunteered for the local Territorial Defence Forces, but she quickly became frustrated with being given purely administrative work. Natalia is clearly a person of action, and most comfortable when juggling several different balls at once. She worked in the past as a casting director for a Ukrainian production company, and you can easily see that “producing” is second nature to her. A highly intelligent young woman with a vision and connections to help her implement that vision. She also knew she had no interest in local village politics or playing those games.
Natalia decided to focus on targeted humanitarian aid items for Ukrainian families who had fled to the village from the cities (Kyiv, Bucha, Irpin) after the war started. Using her network and fluent English and French, Natalia managed to secure the first delivery of diapers, formula, baby food, adult diapers, personal hygiene products, and other in demand non-perishable items, and the village provided her a room for storage. Many IDPs (internally displaced people, a term I will use to refer to refugees within Ukraine) had been given homes in the village they could stay in, and others were living in student dorms. They were nearly all families with children.
Natalia named her village project ROTA TURBOTY (“community of care”). She shared with me some of her YouTube videos about her work in , here in French (absolutely perfect sounding French I should add and the scenery in Samoridnya is just…) and here in Ukrainian (driving her car with a mountain of Pampers behind her). Natalia shared her work over social media, and was able to raise donations for Rota Turboty because of the credibility she developed and demonstrated (this all sounded very familiar). “People trust me,” she explained. But when her brother and his family left for Lviv, Natalia had a new problem — she needed a car to get from the village to the bigger town. 7km drive on direction. She asked Twitter if anyone could loan her a car for her delivery work. Sure enough, a man in Kyiv gifted Natalia his old car. The sale price was 1 UAH.
Natalia remained in the village until May 2022, and has now enlisted her parents as her primary volunteers. Her mother is doing all the paperwork, and her father is helping with distribution. There are fewer IDPs in the village now, and it is harder to access humanitarian aid donations than it was at the beginning. The babies who arrived at the beginning of the war have also grown up. Size 5 is now the most requested diaper size. Now, new Ukrainians are coming from towns near the eastern front, and the bring new babies with them. Natalia explains that many in the south of Ukraine have refused to leave, even after the dam was blown up, for example.
I ask about how the war has changed Ukraine’s economy. Natalia explains that the villages of central Ukraine were not really that much directly affected, aside from the influx of new people. In Kyiv, some lost their jobs, while other new opportunities have opened up. There are many families in which the wife and kids are in an EU country, while the dad/husband is working in Kyiv. Natalia worries about the upcoming winter. She, like many others, expects more blackouts.
Natalia explains that in Cherkasy region, large foundations with offices in Poltava and Kyiv are helping with firewood, blankets, food supply. It sounds like enough support is getting to the villages for IDPs who have settled there now. Natalia is also working on a UN-sponsored project helping woman in different regions.
In August 2022, Natalia took a job with ZAPORUKA, a Ukrainian charitable foundation supporting families with children who are cancer patients. Natalia provided me with the following links about Zaporuka. This is now her main “job” at the moment.
Instagram / Donations from abroad / Alternative means of donating from abroad
Below is a video from Olena Zelenska’s visit to Zaporuka with Natalia:
Natalia is particularly interested in mental health support, providing social and psychological resources for those in need, for kids battling cancer and their families. She gets excited as she describes to me a fantastic project they are working on: the construction of an enormous dacha or giant cottage home large enough to house 15 families at once, in which families with children can live together while their kids are receiving cancer treatment in Kyiv. The Ukrainian healthcare system is designed in such a way that families from smaller towns and villages must come to and then live in Kyiv to access cancer care. In many cases, this used to mean even living in the hospital. This is something Zaporuka is trying to change. They hope to open the dacha soon and welcome the first families to live together in a green environment and build community during what is an unimaginably hard time for all families affected. The house will have a playroom, and psychological support resources on site. The idea is that children will be able to play and live as close as possible to a normal life while receiving treatment, instead of breathing hospital air 24 hours a day.
Natalia has other dreams. She describes an idea she has for a community center in her home village. It is common knowledge in Ukraine that there is always work in summer, in the warm months. There is always something to be planted or dug up in the garden, work with the animals and in the fields. But winter? Winter can bring lack of activity, depression, can lead to drinking out of boredom and other bad habits. Natalia dreams of opening a community center in her home village. A place where people could come together and pursue alcohol-free communal activities in winter. A library with children’s books (Natalia notes how expensive books are these days, and few can afford the cost to purchase new). A billiard table? Ping pong? Movie nights? Guest speakers? Her vision is impressive. For now, she has her sights on a 100 square meter space but knows she needs to take things one step at a time. She knows the bureaucracy and paperwork can be overwhelming. She feels responsible to make smart decisions.
Natalia’s world view has been shaped by her own lived experiences. When she was eight years old, she was given a place on an exchange trip which sent Ukrainian kids to live with French families for a summer. She continued to visit France every summer. Natalia now speaks fluent French and moonlights as a fixer and translator for some French press. A trip around Ukraine is planned in the coming weeks. Natalia has good connections, even in hot spots.
We talk about what life will be like “after victory”. The infrastructure which must be rebuilt, a nation with so many disabled by the war, mental health issues no one is even beginning to treat now. It is overwhelming and Natalia does not wear rose-colored glasses as she discusses the future challenges her beloved country will face.
I ask about her American boyfriend, also 33. They met last year in Kyiv. Have been visiting each other ever since. They recently met in Warsaw so she could meet his parents. Natalia felt guilty about leaving Ukraine even for that short trip. She tells me May was bad. She didn’t get much sleep. The only full night of sleep she got was on the night train to Lviv. The air raid sirens. They go day and night, and all you can do is put two walls between you. They go during Zoom calls. You explain to your colleagues on the call from Italy that the explosions they are hearing in the background of your apartment are air defence working above Kyiv. The sirens when you are trying to get some rest. 5-8 alerts within 24 hours is not uncommon. They remind you that none of this is normal. You look out your 8th floor window to see a rocket flying by. You move to the corridor. At this point I am listening but have not yet heard the sirens myself. I will learn that evening what it is to be woken at 1am just as you entered deep sleep, and lose a few hours of your night.
Benya came to Ukraine as a musician, and even travelled to Donbas bringing aid with him. They raised $100,000 “From Ohio with Love” for IFAK first aid medical kits. He and his band played concerts near the front lines and brought tourniquets. More here from Bakhmut on the band’s Instagram.
We speak about families whom you cannot help. About Ukrainians who do not adjust to life in Europe. Natalia recalls IDP families in villages where their children were given a chance to go abroad on similar programs to France for the summer, and in their absence, both parents started drinking heavily, and everything spiralled out of control in a terribly predictable fashion. Natalia explains matter of factly that her parents know everyone in the village, they can literally name on their fingers which locals should be avoided if someone has addiction issues. But humans are flawed, and war does not change that. It brings out both the best and the worst in people. Natalia reminds me she could be working a job in Paris right now, but she has chosen, she feels it important to be in Ukraine right here right now, making her personal contribution to the defence of her beloved country. Her boyfriend is moving to Kyiv, while she could have quite easily offered to go to Ohio. It is, indeed, remarkable and romantic and I watch her in awe, amazed at how much of a difference one super smart, super empathetic, super caring, and super strategic young woman can make.
Natalia has a “buy me a coffee” here. You can follow her updates on Twitter here.
Natalia says she is starving and orders herself some food. The cafe staff are super friendly and all know her. I go to the toilet and smell the whiff of freshly baked sourdough. It all looks and smells amazing. I wish I could stay longer. Natalia tells me she comes to work here at Spelta often with her laptop. She lives only a seven minute tram ride through Podil away. I decline food, explaining I must go meet Katya, a psychologist who was in Austria, with whom I worked very closely to help one family in particular, victims of horrific war crimes. Katya returned to Kyiv on year ago. I was so looking forward to seeing her again. I am about to be late for the second time in one day. Not my usual. But then again, none of this is normal. Natalia stands up to give me a warm hug “this is how we do it in Ukraine,” she explains.
I feel like I could have easily chatted with her for another five hours. So inspiring: the perfect combination of talk and action and realism. Understanding what is and isn’t achievable and the steps necessary to move in the right direction. So many inspiring ideas. So much passion.
These vignettes highlight the hope and the possibility of the Ukrainian people, Tanja. What I am thinking is for you to take your series to here: @MriyaReport What would be even more impactful, would be for you and the interviewee to share the podium to share their stories. You can envision the reach possibilities for these ordinary Ukrainians doing extraordinary work on behalf of their country and its people. Slava Ukraini #UkraineMustWin