When we arrive at the small Przemysl train station on the border between Poland and Ukraine, piping hot tea awaits us. It is located in the “reception point,” a small corner for Ukrainian refugees who have resisted since the beginning of the conflict. It's still dark. The long queues in front of platform 5 are from passengers who have just got off the train from Kiev and are starting the endless process related to immigration procedures.
BUT THERE ARE ALSO THOSE WHO COME BACK back and wait for the train home departure time. Those who flee usually have the impression of fear, those who return usually have the impression of hope. “Why are you coming back, Daryna?” Let’s ask. «Because I have to help people at home. “It's better to be together,” she replies, weighed down by the thought that preoccupies her mind. We watch her walk away between the white steam rising in the air and her backpack on her shoulders.
In the cold that stings your bones and makes it impossible to think, rows of people and suitcases return home in rows. Between the remaining trees you can view the square of sky full of stars, high clouds and an almost full moon.
Ukraine remains bombed and its residents live in insecurity and terror. There is no flight connection with the outside world and you can only travel to neighboring countries by bus, train or car. But those who are outside want to come back.
What awaits those returning to Ukraine?
A sports center was bombed in Kharkiv
Fingers moving like insect antennae search for the weather app on her phone, which shows -4°C. The cold settles mercilessly on your face and accompanies you until you get into the heated carriages. Soon a metallic voice announces the departure for Kiev. And the children start running on the train as if they were on the playground.
There are people who carry plastic bags with bread in them. Who takes off layers of clothing? Who changes their children's diapers? Who is holding their cat in their arms? And those who cling to the windows of the hallways and absentmindedly watch the strange landscape that passes them by like in a movie.
The journey to Kyiv begins. Olena enters the busy Ternopil train station with her baby still in her stomach. While the snow outside makes the barren fields appear white, he tells us that there are still many internally displaced people from the east in Ternopil. She wears a fuchsia sweater, barely any makeup the same color as her shirt, and she never moves her hand from her stomach. The war did not make her lose her motherly beauty.
“I have a 19-year-old daughter who fights in Avdiivka – she tells us with the eyes of a drowned soul – “We lead a life that they do not allow us.” Women are an integral part of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. There are 42,000 of them and 5,000 of them are deployed today on the most active front lines: in Kupyansk, Avdiivka, Orikhiv and Kherson.
It is difficult to distinguish the sounds who try to take the stage away from the silence, but in the corridor of the train there is a little blonde girl running with a musical toy. It's music you've never heard before. It's a sound you never forget.
The last stop of the train is Kiev. Until last summer, arrivals were greeted by a ghostly landscape of boarded-up houses and tree-lined courtyards. Nobody on the sidewalks. Nothing has changed on the outside. Ukrainians continue to die. One of the largest armies in the world continues to bomb. What changes today are the questions. How much risk am I willing to accept? What is best for my family?
“There is no safe place in Ukraine. It is difficult to describe what is special about the word home. “Here you know everything, you know the people,” Olena tells us and wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
According to the International Organization for Migration, more than 5.5 million Ukrainians have returned home, not only to big cities like Kiev or Dnipro, but also to small towns, including those close to the front lines. In a snow-covered city, the covered markets come to life. Shelves full of decorated packages attract the attention of passers-by filming videos for TikTok.
The Russians fell apart Bakhmut, they approached Avdiivka and destroyed small, unknown towns that are no longer even shown on the maps. A dull knocking is constantly heard everywhere, the same sound as a door closing. At the sound of the air raid sirens, the fear subsided. Olena tells us that she lives in a modern building but has no gas for cooking. He bought a camp stove so he could cook when there was no electricity. He gets around power outages by making sure to charge his computer and phone when he has power.
And as the winter cold brings no respite to the country, concerns are growing that Russia could continue its large-scale attacks on an already fragile power grid and repeat the same tactics as in 2022. So, instead of sending huge columns of tanks, as was the case at first, Russia today is moving at a glacial pace along the 1,600-mile-long ley lines, effectively waging a war of attrition.
“My baby will be born in Kiev,” Olena greets us.