Winter is coming
An interesting public discussion in Vienna last night (not that it changes anything), a visit to Train of Hope's community center for lunch, upcoming holiday planning.
I dug this photo out of my camera roll from last winter this morning, as I am thinking now about what we might do over the holidays with some of the Ukrainian kids in the Vienna area. We won’t be able to do the full Austria-wide Secret Santa deliveries of chocolates and little treats like last year, because that was highly dependent on a group of local volunteers who cannot help again this year. Therefore I am trying to think of smaller activities which we might offer to select groups, motivated by the idea that reaching some kids is better than reaching no kids. A Ukrainian mom has volunteered to help with an arts & crafts masterclass, a local volunteer has offered to repeat her cookie decorating workshop from last year, and Train of Hope has kindly offered to host us, so we will be aiming to reach 20 kids each day over two days at the end of December, once the Christmas rush is over and the kids are all on school holidays. I also asked my followers on social media for help in reaching out to Vienna ice rinks in the hope (perhaps naive) that one might consider donating tickets and skate rental for a group of Ukrainian kids one day over the holiday break. If that doesn’t work out, I might think about crowdfunding entrance + rental. One step at a time. First I need help to reach the bosses and ask if they might consider a donation. I am thinking about Christmas now not because I am an advanced planner (quite the opposite in fact, I basically thrive on last minute actions and decisions), but rather because I have to go back to the U.S. this weekend for about ten days, so I am anxious about leaving behind both my own family and all the “Ukrainian stuff” for lack of a better term.
Yesterday evening I took part in a really interesting (although probably really depressing for the audience) discussion about Austria’s response and care for the Ukrainians who have sought temporary protection here. The entire thing should be up on YouTube in a few days, and it was in English, thankfully. One Ukrainian did come and make an Instagram Reel out of it. The sound quality isn’t great but she did manage to capture the entire thing on video. Ruslana shared a very good overview from an academic perspective of the response to far and the mechanisms and approaches, and what has an hasn’t worked. Jenia shared her frustrations as a volunteer who fell into the role of being an unofficial counsellor for everything to do with Austria’s Kafka-like bureaucracy for refugees, having even programmed a calculator to help Ukrainians understand how much they can legally earn without losing their basic care payouts, only to have the government refuse to publish the information publicly. Not because it was factually incorrect, but rather because they apparently prefer in-transparency. I tried to share many of the stories which pop into my phone every day, and also shed some light on my ongoing concerns: the lack of space or preparedness for new arrivals from Ukraine as winter sets in, and the lack of concrete steps to offer Ukrainians in Austria a form of permanent residency here beyond the “blue cards” when those run out. The event was well attended, albeit it did feel like preaching to the converted. The sad part is those who come know it all already, and those who don’t come probably don’t care. The media stopped writing about these issues, for the most part, because they aren’t new, they don’t make for interesting headlines, and there are no creative solutions on the horizon. And foreigners don’t vote.
This week I also had the opportunity to go to the Train of Hope community center for lunch. I wanted to speak with seniors about rumours I have been hearing that some of them are having their Ukrainian pensions (less than $100) subtracted from their basic care payouts by the Austrian state authorities. I was surprised by how many people (more than 100 for each meal) are still coming there for free hot lunch and dinner, five days per week (Wednesday through Sunday). Many are elderly, but not all. There were also moms with children and caretakers of older relatives. I spoke with a woman in a wheelchair, originally from Mykolaiv, whose son is her primary caretaker. They live in a dorm in Vienna. She is grateful for what they have received here, and says there is nothing for them to go home to Ukraine. Another woman told me how she came with her husband, who is wheelchair bound, and she travels 40 minutes on public transportation for the free lunch. She is busy in trying to apply for an Austrian social program now open to Ukrainians — it is essentially supplemental income for caretakers of handicapped family members. But it is not an automatic yes. She took her husband to a doctor to ask for a paper stating he really is handicapped, and although she says he can only stand on his own for about two seconds, the paper they were given stated he could walk 400 meters on his own. The result? Only 30% handicapped (it is a sliding scale). They say you need at least 50% to qualify for these financial benefits, and they are calculated on the basis of how many hours of care is required of the caretaker each month. She pulled out her phone and showed me a handwritten table. She was dead set on figuring out this paperwork, even if she fails the first time. The paperwork of Austria is a hot topic of conversation with everyone you speak with.
I then ran into grandpa Yura. I met him during the early days of the war. He was lonely, and would come visit me at the train station. Once he begged me for a ticket back to Kharkiv and I gave in, although we all told him it was dangerous. And it was. That trip, back in May 2022, he was texting me, saying he was scared to sleep in his apartment. He was sleeping in the garage instead. Yura comes for the free lunch. His family is spread all over Europe. He would like to go back to Kharkiv, but there is no one left there. He worries he would be lonely. He has only one friend still at home, and he lives across town. And the doctors. The doctors all need to be paid, incentivised with cash, to help. He doesn’t think he could afford it. He did have an operation here in Vienna. He even called me then to have me translate for the nurses. He was eating lunch at a table with older ladies. The older ladies looked at me suspiciously. They didn’t want to talk much. I realised once they don’t know I am the grocery card lady, they become suspicious of anyone asking too many questions. I understand.
After lunch everyone moves downstairs to a nice cafe area with sofas where there is coffee and tea. There are a queue of Ukrainians waiting to ask questions of a consultant from Diakonie who comes in once a week. There is a private consulting room for this with a glass door. Two ladies ask me to sit with them. One tells me how she rescued her 3 cats from Chernihiv. When the war started and she fled, she left them behind, asking her neighbour to feed them. But then the neighbour started experiencing psychological distress, and this woman, Olga, returned, only to find her cats nearly starving. She brought them all back to Austria, where there was much drama: she and the cats were nearly evicted, they needed operations and vet bills…she showed me all the photos. Now the challenge is feeding them. She lives on €200 per month she receives from the state. The organization in charge of her dorm does not provide animal food. So I wrote on Twitter and two kind individuals have both ordered her a bit of cat food. Olga showed me photos of her beloved feline friends. She has put up mesh on her windows to prevent them from falling out. Another Ukrainian cat owner did not do this, and his/her cat fell out, and into a drain pipe, and the rescue operation reportedly cost the NGO on duty thousands of Euros, involving a crane and the fire department. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Every penny is pinched when it comes to people, but then they drop €5k to pull a Ukrainian kitty out of the building. The irony.
In other news, I have distributed more cards this week, dozens in fact, which is great. I am still receiving messages, and still telling people to please be patient, we are out of cards. Some of these requests were from moms of young kids who chose to come now, without a plan, the state payments haven’t kicked in yet, and they need immediate help. Sometimes I receive messages from other Ukrainians who have been here for a while, and are now helping these women, also surprised that they decided to come with no money and no plan. Out of a desperate situation back home, by all appearances. So the need is still very much here even if there are no newspaper headlines and no photos of crowds of people arriving at train and bus stations. As I said last night, ignoring a problem does not make it go away. We were again told this morning that the arrival center in Graz will close in a matter of days, and Vienna is very full so Ukrainians should really call before trying to home. I keep thinking what will happen if the electricity gets shut off in major cities for extended periods of time. Then, there will be no chance to call ahead. Ukrainians will simply arrive out of desperation and because officially, Austria is still open, even if it doesn’t have enough beds. I am told that now when Ukrainians who have been here for a while suddenly lose their housing (and this can and does happen in the private sector), there is nowhere for them to go. Moms and kids are literally sent to homeless shelters.
In other news, very briefly, I would like to highlight some reporting out of Russia. First, this FT article on the war economy and how it has created massive labor shortages across Russia in non-war industries. Second, this informative thread on who chooses to sign up for the Russian army, and why. It is not rocket science: it is men without permanent employment who are enticed by the money. The full report in English by Novaya Gazeta here. Finally, I saw these photos this morning put out by the Kremlin (their PR team is shockingly bad at their jobs) of Putin’s visit to the military command headquarters for the “special operation” in Rostov, and I couldn’t stop looking at them — they could have been taken in the 1940s. Old men. No visible technology. Not even a map on the table, as the Kremlin PR guys proudly wrote in their tweet. Then you think to the sad reality that much of the fighting also resembles the trench warfare of a hundred years ago, and you become overwhelmed with such sadness, than humanity still hasn’t come up with a better way than sending young men to their deaths so that old men can write themselves a place in the history books. Speaking of history books, I am reading Mikhail Zygar’s new book and it is surprisingly good. I am really enjoying how he describes snapshots of Ukrainian and Russian history over the centuries in accessible language.
Alright, that I probably enough for today. I will be offline for a while next week, trying to take a step back from all this, so my next Substack will probably not be until around Thanksgiving. I am really looking forward to the turkey this year, because I will not be cooking it! There will be an event here in Vienna to fundraise for Vienna Mission for Ukraine and Kleine Herzen, both charities in Austria with projects in Ukraine. A win win. I cannot express my relief at not having to prepare the full Thanksgiving feast alone with jet lag!
Thank you all for your continued interest and support. I do not take either for granted. The happy grocery photos continue to brighten my days.