Depression Settles Upon Ukrainians Living Abroad
Most countries have ended financial support, and the war seems to have no end, hopelessness sets in
At first, it was a shock. The world, including most Russians, was shocked by the decision one sick, aging man made. The tanks rolled in, and the blood flowed. In an instant, people all over Ukraine and Russia, in fits of desperation and fits of protest, were moving toward Europe, Georgia, and Turkey.
Having arrived in Munich from St. Petersburg on February 26th, two after the war began, we were amazed by the anger toward Putin — not so much Russia. Having arrived from Russia, we knew that no one in Russia wanted the war, had ever imagined that war was possible, and few openly supported it. The world was united against that sick, murderous man as Munich trams whirled by; more than once, we saw “F*** You, Putin” scrawled across them.
It felt nice and, for us, even a little dangerous because, having lived in Russia for so long, one did not just go around cursing out Putin. It took at least a year before I could rid myself of the feeling that I was doing something wrong by writing negatively about him. When we saw other Russians, no one ever mentioned his name because of that innate fear that someone could be listening. When we met Ukrainians, however, we made sure they knew that even though we came from Russia, we supported them — and that we hated the made responsible for the genocide.
Europe moved fast to figure things out for the arriving mothers with children. Driving through parts of Austria and France, we saw Ukrainians camping at rest stops. Ukraine is close enough that many departed in cars full of their most essential belongings. Having arrived at picturesque stops in places like the Dolomites of Northern Italy, we saw hatchbacks opened, food spread out on the blankets, toys strewn about, and families trying their best to recreate some semblance of normalcy. On occasion, strangers would stop by and offer them kind words. Getting them to take money or food was next to impossible: “Thank you, but we are not beggars.”
Their pride exceeded them. Even though it looked bleak in those first months, they knew that Ukraine would be victorious. By June, most of those refugees drifting on the wind like bees searching for pollen, the first wave, were settled. Some chose the countries where they would build “temporary” lives, while others were “distributed” according to quotas. Arriving in Poland at refugee centers, the European Union helpers determined who would go where: Austria, Germany, Slovakia, Slovenia, Italy, Portugal, France, Spain, etc. Loaded onto buses or given passes, then permitted to travel for free, they set off to their “new but temporary lives.”
This process continued for months and even a year. My family has befriended dozens of such families — most of these families are women with kids, but some men were permitted to leave. They were set up in apartments and received monthly stipends. Many were allowed to work, and the usual bureaucratic hurdles for the Ukrainians were removed.
The playgrounds filled with Russian-speaking children, and usually, it took only a second to figure out who was Ukrainian and who was Russian. People often became friends, but some Russians resented the help the Ukrainians were getting. “We are also refugees; why can’t we get help?” This is the Russian way, I hate to say, ever in search of a government handout, ever in search of a government program that will give them something. By the end of the first summer, Ukrainians were assimilating into their new but “temporary” lives,” and many Russians were resentfully figuring out their new lives.
The big difference between Ukrainians and Russians
What separates the Ukrainians from the Russians in Europe is that Russians can, in theory, return home without the fear of being blown up. Things in Russia are still overwhelmingly normal, and the likelihood of a drone landing on you is still very low. Russians, including my own family, left because we realized that we couldn’t live with the oppressive fascism, the brainlessness, and the overall tacit acceptance of the genocide.
Ukrainians had to leave. Many saw their homes blown apart or heard about the torture and rapes. They went to protect their families but left, knowing they would return when victory was attained. The Russians setting up new lives tend to be wealthier than the Ukrainians driven to Europe by the war. Many are in IT, so they have few problems getting jobs. The accountants, sales clerks, and bus drivers stayed in Russia because they realized they would never find employment.
Ukrainian accountants, sales clerks, and bus drivers had no choice. They are in Europe, and Europe has made it clear to them all: We can’t pay for you anymore. You need to figure it out yourselves or go home. Their children speak the local languages better than their parents. Many of the kids barely remember the countries they left two years ago — for a 6-year-old, two years is like 20. As 2024 races toward us, many of the Ukrainians who set up their “temporary lives” are slipping into dark places emotionally.
The war is not ending. The offensive failed to push Russia out — but could it ever have accomplished that? It does not seem likely. As the fighting in Gaza flared, it was as if the world was relieved to stop talking about Ukraine’s struggle. The front pages of most newspapers are now empty of news from THE front.
The temporary lives they planned have somehow, unnoticed, taken on the shapes, smells, and forms of permanence. Women with children place video calls to their husbands and fathers so as not to forget them. The time that has passed, however, separated, has begun to look like the easy part. The time they won’t be together has started to look like the hard part because it has no end.
The world has lost interest and patience. Putin’s strategy was to wear us down, which seems to be working. As I wrote at the beginning of the war, Russians have an incredible talent for tolerating the worst conditions imaginable. The harder and less humane it gets, the stronger and more resolved Russians become. This tactic is bearing fruit in Ukraine.
The Republican Party has sent all Ukrainians surviving their “temporary lives” in Europe an early Christmas greeting: Get used to where you are living because we have decided to wrap up your country and stick it under the tree for Russia.
The depression, the sadness, is real. Many are deciding, “Do we take the chance and return, or do we give up the hope of returning home?”
Shame on all Republicans!