Olga (39)

Bratislava, January 28, 2023, 339th day of the war.

We met at a café. On one side of the table sat a disciplined little boy. On the other side, a beautiful and intelligent woman. She left home, although in the past she had consistently refused this possibility. She had to do it for the sake of her son. She told me about her fulfilled dreams, the ideal life she had lived at home. And about the day that changed their lives. About how difficult it is to live in a foreign country where rockets may not fly over your head, but you have to learn new things every day and be strong not only for yourself but especially for your loved ones who stayed there. About how it's better to think before we say something.

"I never considered moving away from Ukraine, especially not because of the war. But it happened, and we had to leave everything behind. My father and mother both worked in a factory; they always taught us to be independent. Thanks to them, I became very determined and hardworking. I built my own home, relying on no one. I have a husband, but we haven't lived together for about four years. My life before the war was a beautiful dream. It was exactly the way I wanted it to be. I had many activities, especially sports. I also led my son Artem to sports. We both love physical activity, and our greatest passion was motorcycles and karate. We had a very good life, and we traveled a lot to countries like Portugal, the Czech Republic, and others. I tried to teach my son that the world is diverse, and it is necessary to get to know the local culture and learn to respect it."

"Many Ukrainians had already left their homeland long before the war. They were looking for a better life. I was one of those who tried to prove to the surroundings that when a person wants and strives, it is possible to live well in Ukraine. We can't all leave and expect the country to change. Many people tried to convince me to emigrate. Even my friend from Chechnya, who now lives in Canada. She had experienced war. She told me that she felt something would happen and advised me to prepare documents and she would help me with visas to Canada. Thanks to her, I had all the necessary documents for living abroad prepared. Tension in society was palpable shortly before the outbreak of the war. Although many did not believe it, they were preparing. Even at work, we began to talk more and more about how we would operate in the event of war."

"I had an increasingly bad feeling about everything. The day before the war, I took the car, filled it up with gas, and also filled a canister. I did the right thing! I woke up to the first explosions in the morning. I didn't prepare my son for war. I didn't believe it would happen. That morning, I ran around the house packing things. I didn't want to wake Artem up until everything was ready. When he got up, I told him what happened, that we had to gather the rest of the family and leave. On the street, I was frightened by a man with a rifle in his hand. In the early dawn, I recognized that it was our neighbour who was preparing to defend his home. We were in the car when the sirens started wailing, soldiers ran out of nearby barracks, my son opened the car door and shouted for us to leave because they would shoot us."

"The situation worsened. Gunfire was getting closer and there were more and more cars on the roads. I knew we wouldn't be able to safely leave the city that day. So, we returned home with Artem and my brother's sister, where we were supposed to wait for several more days. Artem didn't understand why he had to be in the basement. But children adapt to war faster, and after a while, they started playing in the basement, which made the other adults nervous, but I understood."

"In the following days, I thought the situation on the roads would improve, but it didn't. Even if the traffic jams disappeared completely, I wouldn't know which way to escape. The city imposed a curfew, and we spent most of our time in the basement. Our neighbourhood was located near Bucha and Irpin. We heard gunfire and explosions. It was terrible even to take the dog out when bombers flew overhead, gunfire was heard, and during closer explosions, you instinctively threw yourself to the ground. We spent four days underground. Each of us had our role. Women took care of ensuring there was food, and men stood in front of the houses, protecting the area. We operated in a self-preservation mode. Soon, Russian soldiers infiltrated our neighbourhood. The one we encountered happened to be a saboteur, fortunately. He had three different passports with him and was trying to escape. From him, we learned that it was not safe for us to stay in our neighbourhood, that we could expect rocket attacks there soon."

"We were afraid to leave, not knowing how or where to go. The neighbour with the rifle, whom I was scared of that first morning, was very proactive and organized escapes from the city. He helped us too. In the morning, my son and I got in the car, with the dog and two backpacks on the back seat. I didn't have time to pack more. Besides warm clothes, we only had camping food and instant soups that you can prepare with hot water, food that wouldn't spoil. It was my first independent trip by car across the border. A friend living in Warsaw directed me to Bratislava. There, people were supposed to help us. I drove through the whole of Hungary, feeling disoriented, and asked at a gas station where Slovakia was. Late in the evening, people we had never met before welcomed us into their apartment. Alex, Zora, two children, and two big dogs. Imagine having a family, and strangers are supposed to come and live with you. They helped us incredibly. They were there for us when we needed to arrange documents, when we needed to navigate the city. We stayed with them for about a week, but our dog didn't get along with their dogs and children. It didn't create a good atmosphere, so we decided to find a solution. They helped us again. Their acquaintance, Juraj, had an empty apartment where we still live. Juraj is the grandson of Ukrainians who were resettled to Slovakia a long time ago. His father could speak Ukrainian. We had the honour of getting to know him. He was truly a good person, but unfortunately, he recently passed away due to old age. They are real angels who came into our lives and accepted us. Many thanks to Alex, Zora, and Juraj for helping us with everything they can!"

"It's hard for me to accept that my mother stayed home. She was born in 1963 and is a disabled person of the second category. I can't imagine how she would adjust here. At work, my colleagues constantly ask how I'm doing, talking about their nice weekends with family, but they mean no harm. However, I can't share such emotions now. Every morning, the first thing I do is check where the latest bombings occurred and find out if my loved ones are okay. Life is no longer about plans and the future; you mainly live for today and whether you and your family survive. You have to constantly learn something new and fight. You can't go home. If you were to return, you wouldn't be able to live the same life as before. You just have to adapt. As the world changes, you have to change too."

"You have to be very strong and find support, ideally within your family. I no longer have a father; he passed away several years ago. I have taken on his role in the family. I took care of everyone and was present in decision-making. I want to be a support for all of us at home. I couldn't convince my mom to leave with us, so I try to support her from a distance. My husband returned to Kyiv and is helping my mother. His family came from Donetsk, and he takes care of them too."

"In Slovakia, besides family, I really miss Ukrainian food. It's difficult for me to navigate Slovak cuisine. My colleague Peter laughs at me because I always order something different for lunch, but I'm actually just experimenting. Every time I talk to my mom on the phone, I tell her how much I miss pierogi, pelmeni, and other homemade dishes. I don't just miss the taste and aroma of home, but also the feeling of how I managed to turn my dream into reality. Our home was something I worked on for a long time. Every detail in it was important. My son had a large room decorated according to his preferences, with his drawings and other creations on the walls. In another room, we have shelves filled with trophies we've won. We gradually add trophies from the region and compete with my son to see who will be the first in the middle. Our hobbies are felt throughout the house, and in the hallway, we have space for our motorcycles. I wanted to have a large wardrobe, and I managed to make that happen too. On the balcony, I have a chair and a small study. I worked from home since the pandemic. I love nature, so we had flowers and plants everywhere. The kitchen was connected to the living room. That's where we all gathered, cooked, and talked. This beauty was in the middle of a green park in a complex where we had shops, schools, everything you need for life. But sometimes you have to leave even dreams because life and children are everything."

"These life lessons I learned from my grandparents. My grandmother had 13 children and survived the war and famine. My grandfather also knew how to take care of the family, sew, shoot, and raise us. They always instilled in us the importance of family and sticking together. I know the war will end someday. If I have the opportunity to return, I will definitely do it. After all, it's my home, my story, and our history. Some things were missing so much that I asked my family to send them to me. One would think that food or clothing would be important. But in these moments, you realize the need for spiritual anchoring. For example, they sent me my karate kimono, which reminds me of diligence, principles, and determination. It helps me find the right way of life."

"It's hard for children to adjust to a life without their closest family, to new conditions at school. Nobody could have been prepared for this, especially the teachers who have to explain complex subjects like physics, math, or chemistry in a way that even children who don't understand Slovak well can comprehend. First and second graders can assimilate relatively quickly, but older children struggle to adapt as quickly, and the complexity of the subjects they learn significantly increases. Slovak children are different and much calmer than ours. In our schools, we focus on allowing children to express themselves and be themselves. Here, the authority of the teacher is important, and children obey. The fact that my son wants to be first in everything and that he was very proactive caused problems. Teachers didn't understand him, and they didn't have as much time for him as is necessary in such cases. It would be different if there were Ukrainian teachers in the classrooms who could help with the teaching. That's why we returned to online learning. It's better, but it also brings problems because teachers here face frequent power outages and signal interruptions, so the teaching hours are often fragmented. I can see in Artem that he wants to go home. He has his activities here, but it's not the same as being at home."

"A large number of my acquaintances stayed at home. Some live in Irpin, 15 minutes from us. We tried to help them and evacuate them, but it didn't always work out. A significant portion of them works in the IT sector like me, and they had cameras installed in their apartments, so they could see what was happening when Russian soldiers invaded. In the recordings, we saw Russians taking the cheaper things and not realizing that valuable technologies were lying in front of them. Some of the looting ended "only" with the loss of washing machines or refrigerators due to their ignorance. In Irpin, there is also our great karate legend, a still active 65-year-old human gem, of whom I am proud. Karate practitioners are people with principles who never give up in a fight. That's how Ira Pitrenko is, who stayed there to rescue children and help them organize journeys westward, away from the war. Within the community, people have come together and help each other. It was difficult when you left close friends at home and didn't hear from them for weeks. Fortunately, some managed to reach Europe. One thing I truly don't understand is that I often hear that Ukrainians come here in expensive cars. Yes, some of those cars are often not cheap, but they are often the last things those people have left. It would be good if people first thought about what they are going to say."

"War has become our fate, and we have to live with it. However, that doesn't mean we should give up. We must fight for our better future, for our country, for our families. We can't succumb to evil, but we must keep our humanity in our hearts. Even in these difficult times, I see light. War is something you can't prepare for. But every war eventually ends. Life takes something away from us at times, but it also gives us opportunities to cope with it. And if you're not succeeding, you have to keep trying and fighting. If you put your heart into it, you will definitely manage."