World's most liveable city...except if you are a Ukrainian refugee.
An extremely tense situation in Vienna. I went to deliver a mobile phone to a blind man and a few Hofer cards. I was met by dozens of angry residents at the end of their nerves.
Sunday morning began with a brief visit by an Austrian volunteer from a neighbouring community, who brought me a mobile phone for a blind man (plus SIM cards) and two used laptops for two families from Mariupol.
I fully expected this to be a fairly normal Sunday of dropping off a few Hofer cards, listening to a few stories, and carrying on. I did not expect to be met by a couple dozen very angry, upset, tired, exhausted, frustrated, and traumatised Ukrainians at the end of their collective nerves after months in no man’s land, a dorm in Vienna designated as an “emergency” shelter, but Ukrainians end up there for months with no Meldezettel, no blue card, no insurance number, no school, no social payments, no €40 pocket money, no bank account, no job, nothing but the roof over their heads and barely edible food three times per day. As one said to me today, “here we do not live, we exist”.
Now before anyone starts with “but this is Vienna, it cannot be true!”. It is true. I have been writing about it for months. Journalists have reported about it. Multiple times. And yet, nothing happens. In April we complained about the food. In May, they almost shut the whole place down, but then had second thoughts. By the summer, they stopped giving out Meldezettel (registration papers), and took back the ones they had given out in spring (yes, really, they urged the Ukrainians to sign papers giving them up). But new Ukrainians kept arriving, those who have lost their homes and their livelihoods near the front lines and in occupied terrorises. They arrive with nothing, and receive nothing. Nothing more than a place to sleep and food. No chance to build a new existence when you are stuck for months told to find your own housing, find your own school .
I walk up to the building’s courtyard this morning (11th district, edge of Vienna) and am greeted by the young blind man I wrote about here. He is wearing his guitar on his back. He is a great musician, the others tell me. I hand the phone and SIM card over to a fellow resident who will help Andrei to set up the phone. I thank him for helping. A granny comes out. She is here with her eight year-old granddaughter. I don’t have a Hofer card for her. I promise to add her to my list. And then one by one, two by two, Ukrainians start pouring out of the building, so I take everyone around the corner so we can talk near a few outdoor benches. It is my understanding the property itself is owned by the city and the responsible organization falls under the Stadt Wien umbrella, while an NGO is on site in purely a supervisory role. You will see I am choosing my words carefully. This is not a journalistic report. I am not presenting both sides. I am simply telling you all what Ukrainians told me this morning, what they have been telling me for months.
Many have been living there for months. As they have no Meldezettel, they cannot get blue cards, they cannot get health insurance numbers, they do not receive Familienbeihilfe or social payments. They are not even paid the €40 pocket money residents of other long-term group homes receive under the Grundversorgung system. The kids are not enrolled in schools, although they were given backpacks and then taken out for a photo, I was told, only for the moms to then be instructed to find school places themselves. But how, with no registration papers, no official address? Just like they ask me, how should we find housing when we arrived with nothing and ask for help?
One man is very, very upset. He says it is illegal, the EU ordered countries to provide for Ukrainians and in this case Austria isn’t doing its job. I listen, and agree, but explain that it is bad in many parts of Austria. The issue isn’t only Vienna, nor do I have the impression there is real pressure coming from the federal government to force states to do better. I explain that neo-Nazis were marching in Wien yesterday and some even waved Russian flags. The Ukrainians look at me in horror. I’m sorry, I say. I am just one person handing out grocery cards with money donated by people who do care. I can help tell your story but I cannot fix it. You must not be afraid. You must stick together. When journalists come, you have to be ready to talk. The more of you, the better.
One woman in her late 50s tells me she has been to six doctors and no one will treat her because she has no insurance number. Others ask if they can pack up and go to Germany, will Germany accept them (I do not know)? There are people in the crowd who were clearly on the verge of homelessness even in Ukraine. There is a woman without teeth, and a man deeply in the throws of alcoholism. I am told by many that volunteers in Ukraine convinced them to get on buses in Ukraine to go to Europe. They truly believed someone in Austria was waiting for them. I tell them I am so sorry when I hear such stories because the reality is there isn’t housing available to send refugees to until the government takes action, and that hasn’t happened yet. They ask me how they should be able to eat a balanced diet, to take care of their needs when they don’t receive any money at all and can’t work. A woman in a wheelchair calls me desperate on my drive home…she is so sad she missed me.
They ask me where to find a job, where to move to, how to put their kids in school, who to call. I hear about cancer and HIV positivity. I hear about dementia and a young man in a wheelchair I met months ago complains all his friends were rehoused in pensioners’ homes but he was forgotten about. I listen and listen and try to promise them all I will tell their stories but I cannot force the authorities to act. One suggests a group protest in front of the Ukrainian embassy. One makes a snide comment about the fancy cars with Ukrainian license plates in Vienna. One asks what will happen when they all get kicked out and made homeless. Then we will call the media, I say. We will have photos of 100s of Ukrainians sitting on their suitcases with nowhere to go. They look at me with such sad eyes.
I tell everyone who didn’t get a supermarket gift card yet to write me. I dictate my phone number to the group. I try to leave, I have to deliver two laptops to the families from Mariupol, and a Hofer card to a mom of three living in another dorm…her husband is in prison in Russia.
A visible elderly alcoholic follows me. I tell him I remember about him too, although I am not sure what to do in this instance, the other residents shake their heads as if to warn me don’t give him money for booze. I see a young mom I met last week. Will you speak, I ask her? Yes, if they don’t show my face. I nod in understanding.
I text another volunteer who sometimes helps on site. Yes, the situation is bad. It’s not the fault of the people on the ground, they are only there in a babysitting role. The city. The city needs to do something. Yes, Vienna. These 200+ Ukrainians are de facto living in your city but without the same rights of other residents, because although they are housed in Vienna, you are not registering them in Vienna, thereby they are not receiving the same treatment as all other Ukrainian refugees in Grundversorgung with Vienna addresses. This dorm has become a no man’s land. My heart sinks every time I read this address in my text messages. I could never have imagined back in April when I first heard about this situation, on in early May when I wrote about it, that it would deteriorate further and we would be here in September, still no solution, only worse. Something must be done before this truly boils over.
Later this morning, I passed two laptops onto Sasha. One for his family, one for Natalia’s. They are doing ok. They are in a federal-run dorm in Vienna, but have been able to register (pleasant surprise). They are in the process of applying for Canadian visas. They are excited about the idea of going to Canada. They are so grateful I helped write their story in English. It is opening doors for them in Alberta, where they hope to end up. I ask them to let me know when it comes time to buy flight tickets. I know they will not be able to afford tickets without the help of a village.
My train of thought was just interrupted as I got a phone call from Vladimir & Galina. When we met in late March at the train station, they had no phone. I paid for a hotel for a night an put them on a train to Innsbruck, thinking at the time Tirol was better than Wien. Later I heard they spent an entire weekend without food until local volunteers intervened and got them into better housing. Vladimir is an army vet but also an artist. He sends me this drawing over WhatsApp with the help of a volunteer. He is now offering children in Tirol drawing lessons twice per week. I ask him to let me know if he ever needs more art supplies.
I would also like to share an article which came out recently, the first person story from Katerina, a single mom with a young child in Vienna, who explains how hard it is to survive on the Grundversorgung the Austrian government offers Ukrainian refugees. I usually get really frustrated when journalists contact me and say things like, can you put me in touch with some Ukrainians, but in this case, the focus on a single individual and her personal story, because it mirrors those of so many others, is an effective means of communicating universal problems.
I now have 11 more requests from the Vienna dorm I described above. I have funding for 4 cards. This leaves 7 still open (€350). I am putting the entire rest of my personal waiting list (34 addresses across Austria) on hold until I take care of these families in this 11th district dorm first. To help, please contact me to donate cards in person/mail or here. For our larger waiting list, also covering the entire country, please donate here. Another project I really want to work on this week is getting wealthy Ukrainians hanging out in Austria to donate towards helping their most vulnerable countrymen (and women). They should help too, not just middle class Austrians and caring readers from abroad.
Vladimir is texting me many photos of his art. This he painted in 1962! He and Galina are now in Tirol. He tells me he would like to keep making art for as long as his eyesight allows. I know she suffers from dementia. It is not easy for him. I promise to stay in touch. He reminds me I was the first person they met in Austria. I remember. Clearly. Some things you don’t forget.
Thank you for reading. I really hope the media will put real pressure on the city of Vienna to solve this nightmare of a situation which has been dragging out for months in the 11th district. The Ukrainians are here and they need help. They have a right to registration. They have a right to apply for Grundversorgung. They have a right to pursue a life and not just an existence. They have a right to medical treatment. They have a right to send their kids to school. And if Stadt Wien is too “poor” to take care of another 200 Ukrainians, has no housing for them, then the federal government should step in and find a Bundesland willing and able to help these people. And no new Ukrainians should be sent to this address! And if this is all a matter of money, then politicians need to finally put some money on the table per the EU directive and do the right thing. As one Ukrainian said this morning “"Why don’t they just close the border if they don’t want us to come? Why do they put us on buses if no one has housing for us? Germany already said Bavaria is closed.”
In Germany, it is my understanding the federal government makes allowances and each region must take X refugees. Austria has no such “distribution” system and it seems to work under a different motto, namely, make it unpleasant and untenable so they stop coming. Except, it doesn’t work like that in practice. They come and they suffer. In limbo. We are talking about elderly, sick people, people who have no money, who came with and without children, those who cannot help themselves or they would have found something else a long time ago. Obviously.
Thank you for reading and for your continued support. I do not take any of it for granted.