There are now ten of us in our semi-detached house – before the war, after the death of my father, there were four of us; What applies is what a good friend from Hamburg wrote to me a few days ago, quoting her friend who took in Ukrainian refugees: “The space is getting narrower, the horizon wider.” In fact, our horizon now extends much further, to the regions where we have never been; Places and names no longer sound abstract, but get their plastic, sensual, emotional “faces” from the stories and memories of our guests. We’re all affected, including those of us who haven’t had to move anywhere and haven’t yet seen houses collapsing in our cities. We now know that K’s parents’ house was destroyed and they are with relatives in Odessa. We know how our guests like the city Mariupol is ordered. On the evening of March 29, we learn that O.’s godfather is among the dead after the attack on the Mykolaiv Regional Administration building. As of April 1, the number of victims has risen to 20 people. The result of this rocket fire is spectacular: In the middle of the nine-story building is a huge multi-story hole. A truly delicate performance. This “Russian greeting” in the early morning was for Mykolaiv Governor Vitaly Kim and his team. The Russian-speaking half-Korean Kim is one of the most charismatic “neo-Nazis” in Ukraine. Thank God he wasn’t in the building himself at the time of the attack. Several of his employees were less fortunate.
I., the mother of R. from Mariupol, registers as a refugee the very next day after arrival, and she receives a small package of groceries – rice, sugar, a small pie. I don’t really know how to react to that, we have everything in the house. On the other hand, I understand that she is entitled to it and that she would like to contribute something to our now shared household. I. doesn’t shy away from going to the employment office, she says she wants to be useful and work. She gets a job straight away with a small leather manufacturing company I’ve never heard of before, so learned something new. I. used to work in accounting and warehouse logistics. Her last job was in Mariupol at the Azovstahl steel factory, which is owned by Rinat Akhmetov, one of the largest Ukrainian oligarchs. It wasn’t so bad, I think, there were good social protection packages. Now she’s starting her probationary period in a small private company in the Sadhora district, which Chernivtsi connoisseurs know is the former suburb of the kingdom of the miraculous rabbis of the Friedmann dynasty, one of the Hasidic centers in Eastern Europe. I. has to leave very early and far away, but she says she doesn’t mind, her work in Mariupol started at 7:45. I admire their determination and their willingness to adapt to a completely new environment and very different circumstances. R., the daughter, does not register at first, her organization wants to continue to employ her, a new location for the Ukraine office is being sought.
Our food horizons are also expanding. The only thing I can’t get used to is the bacon
My colleague M. from the Zhytomyr region raves about the beauty of his homeland Polіssya. From time to time his parents, who don’t want to leave their house, bring food parcels with preserves, bacon and dried or pickled boletes, which taste delicious. Our food horizons are also expanded: I would probably never prepare braised chicken hearts or red cabbage salad with raisins and apples myself and am grateful to my guests for this discovery; I’ve never eaten that much avocado in my previous life – it’s supposed to be quite good, especially in times of extreme stress. An absolute win-win situation for me, as I could never get excited about cooking, which is a woman’s ultimate duty in Ukraine. The only thing I can’t get used to is bacon, much to M’s regret.
I am writing these lines in our “office” at the university; at the same time we discuss the plans for the coming hours and days. Another large delivery of aid from the University Hospital in Halle is on its way to Chernivtsi, and the transport from Poland will be there by tomorrow morning at the latest. On Sunday morning we can again welcome the border police at the Ukrainian-Romanian border crossing: Our partner institutions and friends from Lübeck are also sending a vehicle with humanitarian aid today. S. says next weekend is canceled for us in the classic sense.
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