Life with our Ukrainians

Life with our Ukrainians is going well on the surface.  We are now 7 months into this arrangement and time, once again, to jot down a few notes.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day our Ukrainian family arrived.  It was last June, quite a hot day.  Our first sight as they emerged into the public area at Luton Airport was of three smiling faces.  Behind those smiles were three very tired, emotionally drained and exhausted Ukrainians.  They had travelled overland from their village on the front line to Poland and flew from there.  The family consists of a middle age mother and her two daughters, aged 23 and 14.  You will have to forgive me for avoiding their names.

Our hearts go out to them.  They are ordinary people who lived quiet, conventional lives in rural Ukraine and yet their lives have been torn to shreds by the madness of war.  There are, of course, so many families just like them.

Their house has been badly damaged with most of it reduced to rubble.  Through being on the Dnipro River, it is virtually on the front line.  This front line used to be an effective front line; a wide river.  Now a dam downstream has been sabotaged, the river has drained and it is now much smaller and less of a physical barrier.  Now this makes no difference to the missiles and shells which continue to whizz overhead.

We think things have changed for them since being here.  Originally it seemed they were coming just for the summer, perhaps 3 or 4 months.  The war hasn’t gone their way and it’s not exactly safe for them to return home, although being separated from the husband/father must be difficult, to say the least.  We just don’t know the future for them; things are very uncertain.  One thing is certain, their plans have had to change.

For now, here’s a few observations 

• Having taken them into London five times now, I asked what they think of it.  They reckon it’s a very beautiful city, expensive, crowded and a little bit crazy.  The Underground is amazing for them.
• We might appear rather lazy to them.  We think nothing of having a gardener, or a plumber to fix plumbing issues, or an electrician or a mechanic to service the cars.
• More women drive in the UK compared to Ukraine and we certainly have more cars.
• They are determinedly independent and we respect them for this (although we do enjoy chatting with them).
• Food-wise, they are definitely not vegetarians!  Very, very few people are vegetarian or vegan in Ukraine.
• Their food is often quite salty and can be rather stodgy.
• Our guests were keen to embrace an English Christmas.  They came to the village church with us, we exchanged presents and had lunch together with all the trimmings including crackers and silly hats!
• Consistently they are incredibly tidy and quiet.  Often it’s hard to know we have three guests in the house.
• Always they prefer to sit in the back of the car and not the front, even if it means they are a bit squashed.
• While we happily enjoy going into a cafe or restaurant, they do not.  I don’t think it’s something they feel comfortable with but I’m unsure if it’s down to cost, culture or something else.
• English, they say, is such a difficult language.  It is full of silent letters, rules and exceptions to rules.  They have done well and the eldest daughter is definitely trying harder and harder.  As with all languages, it is easier to read or hear.  Speaking another language is much harder than listening.
• We notice their accent is changing.  Sure it’s still foreign, less obviously east European, more European.

Above all

I am thankful we can host our refugee guests.  We have learned a lot from them.  They are safe here with us.

It now almost seems surreal: we have three guests who we knew almost nothing about living in our house.  We took a risk; they took an even bigger risk.  They have come from a country we knew little about.  And yet they are needy, frightened, innocent victims of a terribly unjust, pointless, cruel war.  Through this we have built a kind of humanitarian bridge from our village to a Ukrainian village.  There is a real beauty in this; to share our common humanity with strangers and for it is accepted with the utmost humility.

Nowadays I can understand how it feels to be blessed more than the recipient may feel blessed.

I long for the day when peace will come to Ukraine.  I do hope they will not have to endure much more bloodshed or concede any more land before the fighting stops.  My prayer is for some Russian soldiers to have the courage to lay down their guns, to refuse to follow their orders of pulling a trigger.  It may cost them dearly but maybe, just maybe, it will be worth it.  It could start a chain reaction of passive resistance that Putin could do nothing about.  I know it sounds like a fanciful dream but anything is possible with faith and trust.

Naturally I also look forward to the time when they can be reunited as a family.  I would very much like to meet the husband/father although I doubt if this will be possible.

I just wish we, as ordinary people, could do more.