Winter Wonderland

Vienna is covered in snow which for once didn't melt, thanks to below-freezing temperatures. 50 x €50 toy store gift cards were distributed to Ukrainian families with kids thanks to your generosity.

The snow came and didn’t stop, and is now everywhere. Even public transport, which normally functions no matter what in Vienna, experienced a few hiccups this weekend. We took advantage of the sun and snow to send out 50 x €50 gift cards to Ukrainian de facto single moms with children aged 12 and younger yesterday. I first build the list of recipients in my Telegram group, outlining the criteria and then asking the moms to write short letters in German about their families. Then I built a list, and cut off submissions. Thanks to the generosity of PCs für Alle who helped us acquire 50 x €50 Müller gift cards at a little discount, we were able to let 50 Ukrainian moms across Austria play Santa for their young kids. The letters the mothers wrote are really touching. I shared many of them on Twitter and BlueSky. For those of you who do not speak German, I translate a few excerpts below:

Krystyna writes she came to Austria with her three year old son and live in social housing. She writes “sometimes I don’t have enough money to buy groceries” and she wishes to be able to give her son a present. Another mom of four kids aged 15, 12, 10 and 8 writes she is here in Vienna. Her husband died. She would like to buy the kids toys. A 14 year old doesn’t ask for a present. She is old enough to know that is something for the younger ones when money is tight. A mom in Tirol is pregnant with her third. Iryna from Donetsk works as a maid in a hotel in Tirol and has two daughters aged 11 and 17. Oksana writes from Salzburg that she works the night shift as a cleaner at a gas station and her daughter passes the time when her mother is gone at work by drawing. She would like some new art supplies. Maryna has an eight year old son with autism who is very bright but unfortunately does not speak. She is hoping for a “wonder” and hopes one day Illia will be verbal.

The women originate from cities under occupation or near the front lines. Many of them understand that home is now here, at least for the foreseeable future. I am impressed with how quickly they have integrated, how fast they wrote letters in German, “my daughter attends kindergarten, I take German language lessons and work part-time as a cleaner”. “"My name is Anzhela. We survived the blockade of Mariupol. I now live in a Vienna dorm with my son.”

We sent out 50 Christmas cards yesterday filled the €50 Müller gift cards. It is a nearly national chain, with stores in all the regional capitals. The shops sell everything from perfume to Legos. You can even buy laundry detergent, too. I asked for the letters now, understanding that many moms will likely wait to buy the gifts for their children until after December 25th, once things are on sale, and in anticipation of New Year’s which still remains the biggest celebration for many Ukrainian families.

Yesterday I attended a (packed!) screening of 20 Days in Mariupol as part of the this human world human rights film festival. I can only say that if you have the chance to watch the film, you really must. I kept thinking about what we would have known (or rather not known) if these two Ukrainian journalists had not risked their own lives to stay and capture the images the world then saw. It also made me think about all the horrors which were never recorded for anyone to see. I thought back to my own conversations with Ukrainians who survived Mariupol and made it to Austria. I thought about those there now, living in what is now Russia. The film to its credit shows all the sides of human nature — it does not edit out the looting or the blaming of the Ukrainians by some residents for the city being surrounded. I sat next to young Ukrainian women watching the film. I was surprised. I thought it would be something for foreign consumption. I imagine they are themselves not from Mariupol. I imagine if you are from there, you cannot watch. It would simply be too painful.

I realised today my Telegram chat has almost reach full Austrian integration: Ukrainian moms are discussing where to see “Krampus” a horror parade of scary characters who emerge in some Austrian towns (this tends to me a more countryside phenomenon) on the evening of December 5 before the “good” Nikolo arrives bringing children chocolate Santas, mandarin oranges and peanuts on December 6. I almost wanted to text “my job is done here”.

In terms of reading, I know many are discussing the Economist’s provocative cover page this week, about Russia winning the war, but I would like to draw your attention to two profound pieces I read this morning:

Arkady Ostrovsky on how Putin continues to enjoy popular support for his war (spoiler — it’s the economy stupid) and Andrei Kolesnikov on the upcoming farce of a Russian election and the new normal in Russia in which ordinary people claim indifference and loyalty in exchange for the idea that others are worse off. An insular Russia means Putin can preserve his hold on power, it would appear, much easier now that weekend trips to Europe and the “west” are now a thing of the past. Interestingly, the new hit TV show in Russia is a gangster series “a dude’s word” (Slovo patsana) about teenage street gangs in late 1980s, Kazan. Russia is coming full circle. The 1990s, a very uniquely Russian decade in all their pain and opportunity and huge jolts in one or the other directions, appear to be en vogue again. Also I think no coincidence producers decided this year’s hit TV show would be about young men being tough and fighting it out. Contextually fits right into the narrative about the Russian vs. western way, and of course, the official justification for the bloodshed and long war next door.

Turning to Ukraine, it appears the gloves are slowly coming off internally. There is rumbling about the election that is not to be, there is finger pointing by politicians at politicians over past mistakes, and of course all sorts of rumours, especially on social media. The mood is — not great. Not that I have any scientific measure of it. I am definitely left with the feeling most people are in survival mode now, thinking about themselves, doing what they need to do to get through this. I receive many desperate messages. I try to help who I can. I received some more Hofer cards, we sent them out to pensioners. A lady wrote me this morning. Her husband died. She had to go home to bury him. Could we send her a card? Her payments got cut off (per policy) for all the days she was not in Austria. And on it goes. Another lady wrote me yesterday about a mom who had her child taken away from her custody in the arrival center. I explained, gently, that usually does not happen without good reason for such an intervention. As I said from the very beginning, people bring their problems with them. They do not leave them at the border. A new mother gave birth a month ago and is in a panic about filling out all the paperwork for baby here. That stuff is overwhelming even for locals, even under the best of circumstances. I really cannot imagine. Some casually write in the chat “we need to find a new apartment by end of January” and then add the detail “3 kids” and I think oh no, I think I understand how hard that is going to be on a limited budget, and then I remind myself that it is exactly their can-do attitude and perseverance that helps so many Ukrainians to make their way in Europe, despite the odds against their success.

Finally, I received several text messages from Larisa, the mother of Sofia, a young teenage artist from Ukraine, now living in Lower Austria. Sofia would like to sell some of her paintings. I explained I cannot promise there will be any interest. I promised to share the photos of the works here. You may contact me to speak with Larisa directly if any of the art is of interest to you. Sofia hopes to apply and be accepted to an HTL in Vienna next year which does have a design track.

That all I have this Monday. I look forward to our holiday activities planned for later this month and early January, although I must admit I still receive text messages every day from moms who only saw the notice now and ask “may we sign up?” to which I have to say sorry, no, because the events are already bigger than I am comfortable managing. I do hope at some point self-organization will take over, and I am sure it will, I completely understand that many people are still in survival mode due to economic circumstances which made it tough even for locals right now.

I really still do not know how most families are coping. Somehow, miraculously, they are.