I now start almost all of my emails with the sentence “I can only write to you briefly because the electricity can be switched off at any time”. Since the last rocket attack on November 23, scheduled power cuts can no longer be carried out. There are emergency shutdowns nationwide. The power keeps going off, usually for several hours. In our university buildings and also in my home, the heating switches off immediately. But what joy when the light comes on again. It cannot be compared to what one feels when one sees brightly lit shops or Christmas markets in Germany, for example. Aesthetics through waste, we can’t afford that right now. There is no time for intellectual writing exercises, you have to do the bare minimum when you have a few hours of power. My four days in Germany last week were therefore strongly influenced by sensual sensations – warmth and light.
The Monday of the following working week, on the other hand, is characterized by an acoustic perception: that of the running generators. This rattling is the first thing I hear when I go out into the yard early in the morning to take care of the animals. Some neighbors run the generators. We also have one now, but we haven’t activated it yet. There was electricity at night, the underfloor heating on the ground floor lasts longer, otherwise everything can be done by torchlight, gas is lit with matches. I brought two camping lamps and several packs of matches from Germany as valuable gifts. “Europe matches” are good, you can reuse a burnt and quickly extinguished one another time, for example to light a second flame from a burning one. A life hack.
There is no time for intellectual writing exercises, you have to do the bare minimum if you only have a few hours of electricity: Oxana Matiychuk’s workplace.
(Photo: Oxana Matiychuk)
Because in many shops there are no more matches. There is a small plate on the gas stove for the reusable ones. We also run water with electricity, but we’re smart enough now to fill as many containers with it when it’s running again. Also, I was able to catch some snow water as the snow melts intensely. A feat of practical thinking.
In the office, everything seems to be much lighter at first. But not for long – at midday, the electricity says goodbye to us for the next four hours. I go to my small family from the Zaporizhia region, who live in the apartment of the DAAD colleague and always expect me for lunch on Mondays. We have a lot to discuss with O. anyway. The energetic woman in her mid-forties had the task of placing an order for the children’s clothes so that we could spend another larger donation from the organization “Schüler Helfen Leben” by the end of the year. O. is a great helper, she feels the same way as me: she can only fight against the depressive mood by taking action.
Although she has many more reasons to be depressed than I do: the hometown of the Wassylivka small family is still occupied. O. found out about a textile company in Vinnytsia that produces children’s clothing, agreed everything with her and made a down payment. Now she’s doing some sort of reporting to me. It’s good for both of us: O. is busy, I’m relieved and the process is ongoing. After lunch, our university driver W. picks me up, we drive to pick up a generator delivery, it was delivered in my name. There are four inverter generators from our partner, the Ludwigsburg University of Education.
We’re cooking a soup, you don’t need a lot of light for that
In the courtyard of our camp, W. tries one of us and is enthusiastic. Because there is still no electricity, I go into town to buy a few things. The same noise accompanies me in the city center: Many shops have switched on generators to bridge the time without electricity. It’s half dark in the supermarket, card payment is only possible at two checkouts, but that doesn’t mean the end of the world. You deal with that too. I arrive back at the university at 4 p.m. – at the same time the windows light up. I work two more hours and then drive home. Entire rows of streets along the way are dark, only individual houses are lit – those where the devices are rattling. But upstairs, oh wonder, it’s light. So I can even eat and shower with the light on, what a luxury. Not for too long: Shortly after seven, the luxury is over.
My roommate I. from Mariupol and I are cooking soup for tomorrow, you really don’t need a lot of light for that. Feeding animals, caring for them – the routine goes on without this invention of civilization. The last thing I hear outside that evening when I leave the house for a moment is this wintertime 2022/23 sound: the generator running in the yard next door. The neighbor has two children of primary school age, so candles and flashlights are probably not that easy to get by with. I can only finish writing this text after the third attempt. I apologize and understand all those who are still waiting for my reply by e-mail.
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