Opinions
Important phenomena and events through the eyes of those whom we trust and listen to
The map of Borsch, bitterness and tenderness
I lie on a couch in a small kitchen somewhere in Warsaw, enjoying the aromas - onions, beetroots, carrots and tomatoes are quietly simmering in the pan. Such is the smell of the prospect of being fed borsch.
My friend is cozily bustling by the stove while I exhale my fatigue after an early flight from Paris. It is still 5 hours until my train to Kyiv, and I stopped by with a bottle of wine and a bag of sweets (there are also two little fans of Haribo gummy bears in this house). In return, I received coffee with treats, plenty of conversation and an unexpected homely feeling of comfort you only find at your mom’s or your other closest ones’ places, where you can visit without any formalities and shamelessly sprawl on the couch while lunch is being prepared.
Why have I not taken advantage of this great offer before? - I think to myself. After all, I fly often, and the opportunity to visit someone I know for coffee in a foreign city is a big help. However, this also concerns unfamiliar people.
I remember writing a Facebook post once asking if anyone was willing to let me in to take a shower at their place in Warsaw. I then received dozens of warm invitations, mostly from Ukrainian women I did not know. Well, now I actually do have a place to drink coffee and shower in almost every Polish or European city.
This is also a mark of our new reality: there are many Ukrainian women scattered around the world as of late, and the majority (at least, those whom I know personally) yearn for the opportunity to see each other, talk face to face and envelop their kin in their kindness.
My thoughts are interrupted by a joyful girl hopping into the kitchen on one foot. She is wearing a cast on her second leg, though she does not seem bothered by this problem at all. «Mom, you promised us lody (ice cream in Polish)!» Over two years of this family's life in Poland is evident in the way this girl and her brother communicate in a tender mix of Ukrainian and Polish words.
«Yes-yes, we’re going now», - my friend agrees, and like a multi-armed Indian goddess, she manages to simultaneously tend to her borsch, prepare the temporarily rented stroller, help her daughter get dressed for the walk - all with such ease that I’m candidly amazed by her.
- It’s the antidepressants, - she laughs. - You know, things have brightened up lately. I even realised I don’t yell at the kids anymore. At all! Can you imagine?
And so, I will spend a couple more hours in this house, observing this family’s life. Of course, my observations will be shallow and incomplete, the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, and even so I will still be able to experience many things.
«You know, I rarely even allow myself to have a glass of wine over here, - my friend says, placing the wine bottle I brought on the top shelf. - Just the other day, we had this broken leg from a bicycle accident… Ugh, what a nightmare it was. And I realised once again that I can't afford to relax even for a moment. Injuries and things like that always happen unexpectedly.»
How can I afford a moment of weakness or an unclear conscience if I am the only one responsible for the children here? I am the only adult here, you understand?
I’m not sure if I do understand, as I have never been in her place. And even though there were times in my life when my husband was on the frontlines, and I would end up being the only adult taking care of our son, my closest relatives and friends would still be beside me - what’s there to say - when you are home, even the walls seem to help.
While I can only wonder about what the displaced people have been through. The possibility of such an experience has always terrified me more than any attacks on Kyiv. But I would never ask my friend if she would consider going back to Ukraine while the war is still going on. I have never been in her shoes, I do not know all the circumstances. I do not bring up such subjects while talking to my friends who have fled abroad. Still, though, they always start discussing it first.
«I feel like I’m suspended between worlds, - my friend tells me. - I don’t want to put down roots in Poland, to build my life here. I want to go home more than anything. But...» Yes, there are plenty of these bitter «buts» in her life. This woman is divorced and is raising her children mostly on her own, she does not have a place to live in Kyiv, and the money for rent is scarce, as it is hard to find a job back home with her specific profession. And she has found a job here, in Poland. Not the one she’s dreamed of but she gets paid. And the kids have been going to school for two years already, learning the language and finding friends.
My friend’s son, who’s been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, was fortunate with his school - he fits in well, which is very important. Her daughter enjoys going to various clubs, which are free here. And most importantly - the war in Ukraine is not over yet.
- However I constantly feel as if I’m doing the splits between two realities
«And the feeling of this perpetuating impermanence, and simultaneously of persistent root spreading in a country where I don’t plan to live simply destroys me. - she confesses, pouring odorous borch on my plate. - Even though I want to come home badly, I cannot bring myself to start the process of returning just yet».
Changed identities
Suddenly, I’m overtaken by a déjà vu, as I recently had the same conversation, and I was being fed the same delicious borsch in Vilnius. However, my friend's situation there is even more acute: she is a single mother of many children, and their home in eastern Ukraine is in a war zone. There is no way to return right now, and will there ever be any?
It’s difficult for her to keep her head above water in another country: her family does not receive any special support from Lithuania, and she’s paying for rent herself, which basically completely consumes her modest salary and her first-year student daughter’s scholarship. Her younger children study in school, catching up to their local classmates in performance, and her youngest daughter has adapted to the kindergarten’s environment so well that you can hardly tell which language is her first - Lithuanian or Ukrainian…
This friend of mine, a mother of five, has acquired a completely new profession abroad as a trolley bus driver. This responsibility terrified her at first, she even lost 10 kilograms during her first months on the job, but she has gotten around to it.
«What I’m grateful for, among other things, is that Lithuanians give forced migrants the opportunity to study for free. Yes, I have to pay back the money invested in me during my first 6 months on the job but I find it fair. I’m considering learning to become a bus driver as well. Not every Ukrainian city has trolley buses…»
This painful topic hangs between us.
My friend keeps on stubbornly planning her future in Ukraine, but right now, all her unanswered questions seem too resemblant to open wounds
Will their house in the Donetsk region still be around if their town is under constant fire right now? And if not, which Ukrainian city is ready to take in such a large family? How are they supposed to rebuild their life there once the war ends? And most importantly, - when will it end?!
As there is also the following problem: my friend and at least one of her sons have a strong reaction to shellings, having lived through the first difficult years of the war in their town. Unlike many Ukrainians, they have not adapted and have not learned to deal with their fear.
There are too many painful questions and too few hints on their possible answers. But my friend is so wistful of her home and talks about it so much… And not just home as a place to live - home in a much broader sense.
«I’m so worried for our nation’s future, - she says to me with an apparent aching. - Our greatest men die on the battlefield, meanwhile so many women have gone abroad with their children».
I listen and look at her with wonder because when I first met this woman, the questions regarding the Ukrainian nation’s fate seemed quite foreign to her, and the Ukrainian language and culture were exotic. Now everything’s changed. War, upheaval and new existential experiences are reshaping our identities, and each of us has our own path and pace. Some people, for instance, only realise their own Ukrainian identity when they lose the ability to live in Ukraine.
There are no easy choices left for us anymore
I have the privilege of staying home in the time of war. Of course, this is a conscious for my family and simultaneously a responsibility for all the possible consequences but it also is a combination of certain favorable factors. Unlike many of my fellow Ukrainians, my house is intact and I live in Kyiv, the most protected city in Ukraine at this moment, and luckily I have not lost the ability to make a living under the circumstances of the war. And there’s also a lot going on behind the scenes.
Undoubtedly, one can talk at length about the various drawbacks of this decision, but my friends and I, who have found ourselves on the other side of the experience, tread carefully on this thin ice. And yet, I am always amazed at how all of them - those who went to Poland, Lithuania, Germany, France, USA and so on, and have not made the decision to stay there - every time we meet, they start explaining and justifying themselves to me, as if the fact that I stayed in Ukraine gives me the right to judge them.
Hey, what are you doing?! No, there are no easy choices left for us anymore. Yes, it will always be a complex mix of entirely polar feelings.
And I listen to you, my dear friends, very carefully about all your tough calls and hard times and ask myself - could I have done the same?
And I cheer for you when I hear about your children’s or your own success in an unfamiliar foreign-speaking environment. I breathe a sigh of relief when such terrible trials as suddenly discovered oncology or other insidious diagnoses are treated for free and with quality in those developed countries where you have ended up. I am not annoyed by your everyday small joys that you are too shy to openly share on social media.
Moreover, frankly, I am proud of you - all these volunteer initiatives, the incredible projects you are driving in your new locations, all this great collective work for Ukraine, its military, image, culture and so on, all of this is very, very important. The Ukrainian diaspora is our superpower, I always say that.
But I won't lie, I often feel bitterness and resentment that the damn war has scattered all of you to distant lands, that prolonged stays in other worlds inevitably affect changes in your mentality and perspective. And it hurts me, God, it hurts me so much, too, that the flower of our nation has been so cut down on various levels.
However, I want to keep believing in our power and unity, I want us to stop bickering among ourselves and learn to listen to each other in this not-so-black-and-white reality. I want to feel that circumstances and distances can not take my close ones away from me. And that someday I will feel more or less at home anywhere, where I will be fed with sincere Ukrainian borsch.
…Having thanked my host for the hospitality, I’m leaving Warsaw once again to catch one of my many trains to Kyiv. I often travel this way and already have a collection of usual observations. These trains, connecting Ukraine and Poland, are always full of our women and children who are carrying heavy luggage, learning various languages (oh, the everpresent sound of Duolingo!), who have special documents confirming the legitimacy of their stay abroad, generously share the conditions of their new lives, complain or praise themselves, who are sad or laughing, explaining themselves or defending their decisions quite aggressively, even when no one challenged them. There is so much poignancy in all of this.
On the road, I observe the cheerful little daughter of another passenger for a while. She must be two or three years old, she’s active and constantly chattering about everything under the sun. However, I find it hard to understand her. «She speaks German better than Ukrainian now», - her mother says, embarrassed and almost apologetic to everyone. Well, that happens. Especially during the endless balancing between different worlds.
I am a strong woman. But Elwira - is absolute strength
<frame>We present to you the following publication from the series «Portraits of Sisterhood». In it, we want to talk about the friendship between Ukrainian and Polish women, the support from ordinary people, and not only that - but also about the misunderstandings that ultimately led to new knowledge between the two nations about each other. Share your stories with us - stories of encounters with Polish or Ukrainian women that changed your life, impressed you, taught you something, surprised you, or made you think. Write to us at: [email protected]<frame>
I rehabilitated the children, and they did so for me
My path from the beauty industry and world runway podiums to charity and care over an orphanage was laid by losing my closest person. And it happened unexpectedly.
In the past, I was a sportswoman, I did rhythmic gymnastics. I earned the title of Master of Sports. I got into the «Khreshchatyk» Fashion house in Kyiv by accident: I came by it on the way to my Institute. Back then, it was the best fashion house for knitwear in the Soviet Union, it used to conquer the world runways. I saw an ad about an audition and decided to come along with my friends for company.
This is how my modeling story began.
I have been to many countries, including the USA, Brazil, Mexico, South Korea, Great Britain and almost all of Europe.
In 2002, when I had already been a recognisable person in the capital, my friend Ksenia Kuzmenko and I opened our own agency. Apart from modelling business, we also engaged in organising and producing the Miss Ukraine national contest. After we successfully managed to hold this contest at the «Ukraina» Palace in 2004 with a TV live stream, I was curious about how it was - being a contestant. I wanted to understand the girls better and support them.
Then I entered the Miss Global USA contest myself, and… was awarded the crown of Mrs Globe Europe.
I like art, and apart from modelling, I was passionate about cinema. One of the most memorable roles I have played was the daughter of a Polish duke in a movie about Bohdan Khmelnytsky. Before the full-scale invasion, I acted in a successful Ukrainian project called «Kyiv Day and Night». Life was very fulfilling.
But one day my mother suddenly passed away - and something shattered inside of me. We were very close. I did not want anything, I needed new meanings to keep on living.
When I was offered to lead the charity foundation responsible for the «Home of Happy Children» child rehabilitation centre, I was unsure I could do it. This is the place where they help abandoned children - some were simply found on the street, some were disowned by their parents, and others were taken from families in crisis. While the adults are taking care of legal questions and searching for new families for the children, these kids have the opportunity to live in comfort and undergo psychological rehabilitation. The team and I had to ensure all of this.
At first, I only visited but with each new visit I would get sucked in deeper and deeper: the kids wait for my visits, trust and attachments are formed. That saved me both then and now - during the war. Because everyone finds their inspiration and meaning in life in difficult times. I rehabilitated the children - and they did so for me.
The Power Woman
On the first days of the great war, artillery and air defence troops were placed next to our orphanage. We swiftly decided to evacuate the children, the staff, taking responsibility, transported them to safer settlements in Ukraine - wherever they could.
Offers came in to relocate the orphanage abroad but we were hoping that everything would pass quickly. At that time, everyone believed that this war would not last long. One such offer came from Olga Bohomolets [Ukrainian political and civil activist, Honored Doctor of Ukraine, - Edit.]: a family from Germany was able to help, provide accommodation and everything required.
That is how Elwira appeared in my life. We created the children’s evacuation plan working online with her in particular. At the time, I had no idea who Elwira Niewiera actually was, I had not seen her movies and did not imagine that I would be absolutely fascinated by this woman, having mutual sympathy and close friendship with her. A woman with boundless energy and desire to help. To me, she is now that very Power Woman.
At that time, Elwira had already been engaged in supporting our soldiers, it was she who managed to find a wealthy family from Bavaria that allocated and continues to allocate substantial funds to support the Ukrainian army, as she could not tolerate the inaction of the German government. A woman named Ulrike had a vacant villa next to a lake in the forest, and after careful consideration, Niewiera proposed to evacuate and relocate the Ukrainian orphanage there.
Leaving was complicated. Firstly, the war had already been going on for several months, and if previously there had been chaos and people, children and orphanages would cross the border without any documents, we, on the contrary, had to go through all the bureaucratic corridors and receive official permissions from four separate ministries and the military administration. And secondly, we had to literally «gather» 20 children from all over Ukraine: from Kyiv, Ternopil, Volyn’ and Lviv regions - everywhere they had ended up.
Elwira and von Walz's family organised the transport and relocation. On the Polish border, we transferred to another bus that brought us to our new home. It was scary for both children and adults - we were voyaging into the unknown.
Care with a capital «C»
In Germany, we became the only ones who, as an entire orphanage, including caregivers, found refuge thanks to a private initiative. I never would have thought that Germans are so capable of caring. You barely have time to think about it - and they are already doing it for you.
In the small Bavarian town, our bus was greeted by the locals, the mayor and even an orchestra. They closed off the entire highway for this. Everything was prepared in the house - even food and sleeping places for my dog and cat I brought with me.
A year passed before we managed to organise a new way of life and accept the new reality that we live here, that today this is our home. And that we also live under one roof - 20 children and 10 caregivers - like a new family. Only in a year, when the initial stress had somewhat subsided, did we start noticing what a wonderful place we found ourselves in. The locals were helping as much as they could, they even organised sports lessons and activities for children. This is Care with a capital «C».
When Elwira visited us for the first time to get to know us with hugs and treats for the children, we arranged a party. She recorded everything on camera and promised to one day make a movie out of it. She found kind words and the right approach to every kid.
Later, in Amsterdam, where she had invited me to her movie’s premiere [«The Hamlet Syndrome» (2022), - Edit.], I discovered a different Elwira for myself: a talented director, a caring individual, who is not afraid of examining and finding solutions for very serious societal problems.
I remember how the theatre happened to us.
Niewiera’s friend came to visit the children - a director Rosa Sarkisian, who acted in «The Hamlet Syndrome». We had an idea of partaking in theatrotherapy: to express one's emotions and experiences and to talk about what hurts, through the persona of a certain character. This became a huge step forward in the children’s therapy. They carry severe psychological trauma with them but after talking about it even once - it gets easier for them. One week with Rosa turned out to be more effective than therapy with psychologists on the base of another centre.
We made a genuine theatre from these deep life stories. Imagine, Elwira organised a tour in Berlin! Our children performed on stage, there were stories about them in newspapers. It changed them completely, they became more trusting and confident, and the fear of opening up disappeared completely.
But most importantly - they were happy.
Act like a woman
I feel like Elwira thinks about Ukraine 24/7. And not just thinks, but acts. Every day. Recently, I came to her in Berlin for a weekend [Elwira Niewiera, a volunteer, Polish-German movie director and writer, is currently residing in Berlin, - Edit.] and she worked non-stop: she receives inquiries from the frontline, sends generators, night vision devices and drones over there. She especially helps women who ended up in difficult situations. It is just human, womanly. At this very moment, while I am telling you about her, she is busy finding a place to live in Kyiv for a woman who survived Russian captivity.
I don't know where she draws the strength to respond calmly in any situation, but I've never seen her lose her temper or get nervous. Inner calmness - is a great feat. At first, I was convinced she did yoga in order to achieve this - and started doing it as well because in working with children it is crucial to always keep calm, have your spirit up and be positive. Until one time Elwira asked me herself: «You know, it is so nice to spend time with you, you are so calm and peaceful. How do you manage to stay that way?»
I believe in women’s power. Sometimes it feels like men are not capable of agreeing and walking side by side, while women are. We have common sense and inner balance. We know how to stay composed and be flexible in critical moments.
Maybe I am only judging by Elwira or myself since I am confident to say that I am a strong woman. But she is absolute strength. She manages to not only reach her goals but to lead and support other people in the most difficult time
The hardest - letting the children go
Over the last 2,5 years I have been a cook, dishwasher, housekeeper, psychologist, doctor, driver, courier. I realised that when you acquire certain knowledge or skills, you need to use and develop them further, not lose them, because you never know how fate might unfold.
For example, I studied German at school but I never thought I would need this language. The women in my family were good cooks - but I never developed this ability in myself, until I had to cook for 30 people. I also became a driver since we live in the middle of a forest, and the children had to be taken to and from school and classes. Additionally, I have a diploma in medical rehabilitation. In Germany, it is a speciality in demand, and if I suddenly decided to stay, I could successfully work here.
Now, our children are coming home. Some get adopted, others return to their families because the court cases have ended or the parents have managed to resolve their issues. We have only three boys left as of today. I promised them they would graduate school here - especially the eldest boy because he is studying in a German class. In two years he managed to learn German from scratch, pass the exams on par with his German classmates, and he invited me to his graduation. The last time I was at a graduation was when my son finished school.
It is very difficult to let children go. Psychologists advise that one should immediately separate and communicate less. But in two years we have become a family, and I truly care about how the children’s lives unfold in their new families. I often consult with Elwira about the children, and we contemplate the best course of action together. She has seen all the processes from the inside and is my trusted person.
Meanwhile, our orphanage in Kyiv continues its work. We made sure to keep it clean and cosy and set up a shelter, but we still have not been able to find a psychologist. We are planning to invite Rosa with her unique theatre therapy method. Unfortunately, now more than ever, there is a huge number of children in need of help and care, and the country desperately needs such facilities.
On July 23rd «Home of Happy Children» opened its doors for new inhabitants.
And who do you think was the first visitor? - ELWIRA!
The text was prepared by Irena Tymotiyevych.
Photos from a private archive