The unseen war (Day 68)
The supermarket card project is getting some media attention, those arriving in Vienna's main train station waited until the last possible minute to leave Ukraine. Many have no idea what to do next.
This morning I was helping an older couple get train tickets to Villach, Austria, when the husband pulled out his phone and started showing me photos. They are from Odesa. They planned on staying in Odesa. Until the Russians hit a fuel storage depot. This photo was taken from their apartment building. After that, they decided it was finally time to go. They arrived in Vienna this morning. One of their adult children is already in Carinithia; by this evening they will be reunited.
This photo represents what we are dealing with now on the ground at the train station in Vienna. Many of our “customers” are Ukrainians who arrived in Europe some time ago and are still moving around (in part because train tickets are still free for Ukrainian passport holders — this will clearly soon become a problem and will soon come to an end). Yet every day people arrive directly from Ukraine fleeing actual war zones: this couple from Odesa, many from Mykolaiv, Izyum, Dnipro.
Our neighbour Anna who is here alone with her almost 4 year old son told me yesterday Ukraine has stopped letting its own citizens out on “internal” passports (not international), with the exception of those coming from “hot zones” where there is active fighting right now. In other words, those Ukrainians arriving right now really did with very few exceptions flee actual bombs flying. And unfortunately, by the time they arrive, volunteers have thinned out and everyone is well, tired.
I met a mother and a son of about 12 from Dnipro. They arrived in Vienna on Thursday, spent four nights in a home for the elderly somewhere in the city where they were put up, and decided it was time to go to Germany. I met them at the ticket counter. Where to? I asked. Germany, the mom replied. I need a city name. Silence. I asked her to step aside for a chat. I explained that Germany is huge and she needs to pick a city. I explained Belgium or Denmark might be better options. Mom had no idea. She looked at her 12 year old son and said, “Denmark, Belgium or Germany?”. The boy said Germany. Germany it is.
What do you like, I asked him, sports, music? Music. So I googled which city in Germany has the new fancy concert hall. Hamburg. How about Hamburg, I said, it’s in the north, and if it doesn’t work out, it’s not far from Denmark? I showed them a photo of the fancy new concert hall. Yes, they nodded. Hamburg it is. We got them tickets on the night train. I offered McDonalds vouchers, explained where they could store their luggage for the day.
Mom explained she wants to go to Germany because they pay more in benefits; she worries she couldn’t survive in Austria on the social payments here and it will take her some time to learn German and be able to find a job. The Austrian government clearly knows these calculations are made by Ukrainians. Everyone involved knows it. The mom told me she heard Germany might increase its payments from June. I said I have no idea, but I understand the money being offered in Austria is not enough to live on if you aren’t working and don’t have savings. I wished them good luck. I got her Telegram handle. Her son helped her figure it out. A smart kid. They will be fine.
An older woman, probably mid-70s, came in, asking for a ticket back to Kyiv, but she had no money. The direct train back to Kyiv costs €86, with sleeping cars added in Budapest. I made an executive decision (lol) and bought her the ticket on the spot. She got teary eyed with gratitude. Her daughter and grandchildren are staying in Austria. She has had enough. She wants to go home. There was no talking her out of it. I took her number just in case anything changes with the train as it’s now my number on the reservation.
I helped another grandmother get a ticket to the Polish-Ukraine border. Her daughter was helping her, with a two week old baby boy. The mom arrived on February 25 to Austria, just after the war began. She gave birth here with the help of a friend who translated for her. She and the baby will stay, it sounds like grandma is also going home. She took a free ticket to the border. That is the other option which is still available.
Last, I met an exhausted group of grandmother, grandfather, mom, and two children, one little, one big. They fled Izyum. How did you get out? I asked the grandmother. Don’t ask, she said. There is nothing left. I never thought at my age I would see Europe. Zurich, she said, is that in Switzerland (but she said Sweden in Russian)? Yes, Switzerland. I helped them get tickets for this afternoon. Paid for seat reservations. You will arrive at 11pm. Will there be volunteers? I hear this question a million times a day, but I don’t know the answer. I haven’t been to Stuttgart/Zurich/Frankfurt. Yes, I hope so. I hope at that hour someone will still be there. Is anyone waiting for you in Zurich? No. I gave them McDonalds cards and a large IKEA-style shopping bag from my car; grandmother’s plastic bags were ripping apart. I took them to McDonalds, helped them order. 4 BigMacs 1 Happy Meal 2 fries and five teas. Good luck, you say, knowing that no one knows what will happen next. They know. You know. You still smile, you still try to be positive.
The rest of my day is a blur of supermarket card distribution and accounting and logistics and list making and answering messages. But it is working. The messages of gratitude and photos of groceries keep rolling in, and reassure me we are really making a difference. Collectively. Thank you.
A local tabloid (Heute, free papers on public transport) published the story in print today, for which I am very grateful. I was totally exhausted when this photo was taken. Good. It represents what this all feels like. I had just finished a two or three hour translation shift at the ÖBB ticket desks.
I also created a PayPal link here. If you live in Austria, it is still much easier if you buy the cards directly please in €50 increments and mail them to me (please send me a message for my address) or deliver them to me (I am nearly every day around lunchtime at Wien HBF). If you are international, PayPal is best.
That’s it for today. No, I lied. One more thing. Read this. Please read this. Slowly. Every word of it. I think I will read it twice, it illustrates so perfectly everything happening at once in Russia and Ukraine through the lens of one house, one family, one group of Russian soldiers…and yet I worry now Putin will just throw boys after boys after boys. For this reason I really fear this sick, senseless war is going to drag on a very long time.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for your continued support. Thank you for your patience that my time to write now is extremely limited. I hope in a few weeks it will get better.
I hope to deliver one €50 card to every Ukrainian family in Austria who asks for help with buying groceries, and hopefully in the process make enough of a fuss that the government and the public realise the current official response is wildly insufficient. The government official in charge of the Ukraine refugee response in Austria was on TV last night. 64,000 Ukrainians have registered in Austria. SIXTY FOUR THOUSAND. I haven’t had any time to watch the interview with the “refugee coordinator” yet. I have a feeling if I did watch it I might get really upset. I literally only learned a few days ago of his existence.
A few thoughts here on that. For context (read in this order):
On that note, I have to run to the post office and Hofer, again…