When the first Ukrainian refugees crossed the Moldovan border on foot from Palanca, a town of about twenty lowrise houses not far from the Black Sea coast, the Russian invasion had just begun. “Our estimates were that in the worst case scenario, we could have accommodated a maximum of 15,000 people,” said Eugeniu Sinchevici, a young Moldovan parliamentarian who was then part of the government’s task force to welcome the first Ukrainians fleeing the war.
Three weeks after the start of the Russian invasion, more than 350,000 people arrived in Moldova: around 250,000 left the West, while another 100,000 have decided to stay here, at least for the moment. For comparison, it’s as if 130,000 new residents arrived in Rome in less than a month.
Moldova wasn’t ready to handle such a large number of people, and besides, it couldn’t be. It has a population of just 2.6 million, has the lowest GDP per capita in Europe and has been dealing with a proRussian separatist region, Transnistria, for thirty years, which does not recognize the authority of the central government. Nonetheless, the Moldovan government, supported by a network of local and international NGOs, government agencies and abroad, has made an impressive concerted effort.
(Valentina Lovato / The Post)
People have arrived in Moldova, fleeing mainly from the cities of southern Ukraine that have been bombed by Russian forces for weeks, with names that we know Melitopol, Mykolaiv, Kherson but at least also from cities that have been spared fighting at the moment, like Odessa.
Almost all of these people crossed the border between Ukraine and Moldova in a swamp created by the mouth of the Dniester River, which was very little visited until a month ago.
The border of Palanca (Valentina Lovato / Il Post)
After a week of irregular flows and some improvised help, an informal system has emerged since the beginning of March, but it lives on precise mechanisms that are repeated daily.
Once in Moldova, the refugees are loaded onto vans provided by NGOs, the church, the fire department and the government and transported to an open area two kilometers away on the outskirts of the city of Palanca. It is from here that the buses depart that will take you to the next stop: the smaller means go to Chisinau, the capital, where you can choose to stay in the country or not; while the large, much more soughtafter ones head west to other European countries.
The clearing outside Palanca where the buses leave (Valentina Lovato / Il Post)
The buses do not depart at regular times, and the waiting time is filled in to meet the basic needs of the refugees. Everyone has set themselves specific tasks.
The Italian NGO INTERSOS runs a mobile clinic for those who need a doctor. Moldova For Peace, a cartel of youth organizations that has assisted the Moldovan government with initial reception, is responsible for facilitating transportation to and from the clearing. The UN Refugee Agency has provided thermal mushrooms, which are essential in a place where the temperature is around freezing. WiFi networks have been set up at various points in the clearing to allow you to use WhatsApp.
(Valentina Lovato / The Post)
In the main tent, a group of volunteers are distributing heaps of food prepared by other people. Some of them come from Transnistria, a country where the autonomous government recently asked Russia to recognize its status as an independent entity. Valentina, who worked as a nurse in Italy and speaks excellent Italian, shows listeners a video found on Facebook by wellknown Italian conspiracy theorist Franco Fracassi, explaining the Ukrainian government’s alleged responsibilities for the fake news circulating about the ongoing war.
The atmosphere doesn’t seem too somber: the volunteers sharing the food joke among themselves, smiling and handing out generous helpings of plăcintă, a type of filled puff pastry ubiquitous in Moldovan cuisine.
But there is no shortage of problems. Fausta Micheletta, an emergency medicine expert at INTERSOS, says that these days dozens of elderly people who had run out of medicines to treat diabetes or high blood pressure, children with colds and young women with mental health problems passed by. “They pick up the children, carry them away with their nerves, then they come here and collapse,” says Micheletta.
A young volunteer from ACTED, a large French NGO, says that he has not slept well for several nights: the scenes he sees outdoors during the day are causing him nightmares.
The inside of one of the buses that depart from the Palanca Glade (Valentina Lovato / Il Post)
From the first days of the war, public centers were opened all over Moldova, which could accommodate as many people as possible. In Chișinău, both in the Moldexpo exhibition center and in the Malldova shopping center, some areas were converted into temporary centers. Dozens of small and mediumsized centers have been established across the country, from north to south.
In Popeasca, a town in the windswept hills of southern Moldova, a school facility has been converted into a refugee hostel. There are a total of 70 people in the structure: 42 adults mostly women and 28 children. The center’s manager, Jon Cazacu, proudly shows that the refugees have access to hot water showers and toilets: a small luxury in this rural area.
The Mayor and the Head of the Popeasca Refugee Center (Valentina Lovato / Il Post)
A large proportion of the refugees were accommodated in private apartments instead. There are many Moldovan families who have provided a room in their house or an apartment that is currently not in use (it is estimated that more than a million Moldovan residents actually live and work abroad).
Government and humanitarian sources told the Post that 80 to 90 percent of the refugees are currently living in private homes. NGO operators exchange stories about Moldovans arriving by car at the Palanca border in the early days to offer beds to complete strangers.
Also in Căuşeni, a small town in the south of the country, Mayor Anatolie Donţu was impressed by the number of people who welcomed Ukrainian refugees into their homes. “I was very surprised by the reception of my fellow citizens for refugees,” Donțu said through an interpreter. Less than 8,000 people live in Căuşeni, and today about 1,100 Ukrainian refugees live in the area, whose food, clothing and medicines have been guaranteed by the ItalyMoldova Union. At least 60 percent of them live in private households.
“I think that happened for two reasons,” explains Donțu, who was elected in 2019 with the party of proEuropean President Maia Sandu: “Let’s talk about a war first. And people know war is war, none of them wanted it. Besides, Moldovans know that today it is Ukrainians who are in a difficult situation, but tomorrow it could happen to them ».
Mayor Anatolie Donțu (Valentina Lovato / Il Post)
Moldova is often cited by international observers as the closest country to suffer invasion by Russian forces: both because of the presence of Transnistria and because Russia has always considered Moldova to be part of its legitimate sphere of influence.
In the nowfamous TV clip a few days ago, in which he explained how the Russian invasion of Ukraine is developing, the authoritarian President of Belarus, Aleksander Lukashenko, showed a map with a clear red line delineating the areas of Moldova bordering Ukraine is equivalent to. In the Moldovan public debate, the hypothesis has prevailed that war will also break out here.
Lukashenko’s boastful briefing shows a map suggesting a 🇷🇺 attack is also planned against 🇲🇩, which is a close Democratic partner of the 🇪🇺. pic.twitter.com/6ir3GVSnfi
Carl Bildt (@carlbildt) March 2, 2022
“The data and analyzes we have tell us that Moldova will not be attacked,” explains Sinchevici: “But the Moldovans are worried and don’t know exactly what will happen. And I think they’ve channeled that fear into their efforts to help refugees over the past few days.”
At the Palanca border, a thousand or two thousand people arrive every day: a huge flow, but all in all manageable thanks to the hospitality network that has been set up. The situation could worsen if Russia attacks Odessa, just fifty kilometers from the border. Sinchevici cites an estimate that if Odessa were permanently occupied, Moldova could take in nearly a million refugees in a month. And then just a few kilometers of land would separate the new territories conquered by Russia from the proRussian region of Transnistria.