Sketches

For 3 weeks me, my husband, my parents and younger brother lived in a cellar, cramped like sardines in a tin. With freezing temperatures outside, we had +5 Celsius down there. We shared the space with my two cats, mold and slugs. My mother baked sweet pies daily, going through her well-stocked homemade jams shelves. Even with all the sweets our weight dropped drastically. Grocery shops were empty and closed. It felt like not a single soul was around.

We made "X" marks with tape on the windows, supposedly this was meant to keep the window whole if it shatters from impact. All windows were covered shut with carpets and cardboard, so that no light could come through. We were able to get back to the house for a few hours daily, after spending the night in the cellar. When radio transmitted air raid sirens we had to go back down. I've spent most of my day there. At nighttime you could see fires all around us in Bucha, Demidiv, Vyshgorod and Kyiv.

After 3 weeks Kyiv was mostly liberated and there was a safe passage south through the city, we could finally leave. Our tiny old Kia Picanto was filled to the brim with necessities. My parents followed soon. Petrol was limited, queues went for miles, there was no food or water to buy on the gas stations. We passed multiple checkpoints, each could have been our last, as my husband's childhood friend was shot passing through one.

We managed to get to Transcarpathian region, where we rented an overpriced old shabby apartment. Our own countrymen felt this war was a good money-making opportunity. We had to continue working with what we had: shaky old dining tables, rusty soviet modular seating, old pillows and wall carpets to lean on. It was still better here than in Kyiv.

We went through days of blackouts, no water, no heating, no internet connection. All charging stations, candles, batteries and camping lamps quickly sold out around the country.

It was still better than in the capital. The missiles couldn't reach beyond the mountains. It felt safe. We could go on walks to the river, or get a coffee.

People there kept living their lives, sirens meant nothing to them. We happily joined this illusion of peace. Thermal waterparks, mushroom foraging, cafes and sushi takeaways, silly shopping sprees. 

Anything goes. 

After two years we were finally able to leave the country. We settled in Croatia. My parents and in-laws still hear blasts daily, missiles and drones being taken down right above their heads. I live a thousand kilometers away from home now. 

Happy to be alive.