Alyona Sushko, 26, woke up to a dull rumble. The walls of her apartment in Kharkiv were shaking. She thought the neighbors were having a boisterous party. Her cat Wenya was hiding under the covers. At first, there was nothing noticeable on social media. It wasn’t until a friend called her 10 minutes later and told her about the Russian attacks that astonishment gave way to fear. She had a couple of minutes to pack the most important things. In her backpack she quickly threw some things and some money. Then she made her way to the nearest metro station. Between hundreds of people she waited, talked on the phone with friends and family and tried to understand the situation. It was clear to her that she wanted to be reunited with her mother as
soon as possible. She feared that the metro station offered no safety.
Her mother Irina, 53, lives on the other side of the city. It was a risk to get to her. She dared to do it anyway. Friends offered to accompany her. The impacts could now be heard continuously. “It was like being in a movie,” Alyona says. She had never seen war before. When she reached her mother’s house, they immediately went to the basement. It was not a fortified bomb shelter. Just a simple basement. “There are not enough bomb shelters in the city,” she says. No one had prepared her for such a situation. She did not know what to take with her, what they would need for the next few days. All the stores were closed. She heard about other cities where supplies were still working. Not in Kharkiv. It was difficult to breathe in the basement. Irina and her mother could not stand it longer than four hours. They ventured out into the street to get some fresh air. They didn’t feel safe in the basement either. Hot water pipes ran along the walls, in danger of bursting. For the first few days, the impacts could only be heard in the distance. They were able to go into the apartment now and then to get food and clothes. She was even able to take a shower once. On the third day, the bombs came closer. She could hear the tanks rolling across the streets. In the basement, everyone was glued to their phones. They followed the news and saw pictures of their destroyed street on social media. Messages spread those Russian soldiers were entering the basements.
They decided it was safer to stay in the hallways. Here, they had access to escape routes. Alyona did not want to show her fear. She wanted to encourage the children in the basement. Together they drew pictures of peace. This distracted them a little. On the fifth day, food became scarce. At the risk of their lives, they stood in line for five hours to get bread. In the bread line, she followed the diplomatic attempts to end the war. “Everyone was suddenly talking about peace,” Alyona recalls, “while bombs continued to fall in Kharkiv.” Panic set in. All she could do was cry. In her old life, she played the piano and violin in her spare time. She liked to go out with friends and dance all night. She had a job she loved. In an international company that created 3D models for building construction. After work, she often spent time with her colleagues in the office. They ordered Mexican food and watched movies on Netflix. Alyona realized that her old life was over. She wanted to escape. But not alone – she tried to convince her mother to come with her, but she did not want to leave her hometown. The children and mothers in the building need her, she told her. Alyona packed her bag with a heavy heart. An acquaintance drove her to the train station. Thousands of people were waiting on the platforms. No one knew when a train would come.
Alyona was lucky. After two hours, she was able to board a train that would take her to Lviv. For 26 hours she was stuck between other passengers. She could hardly move. Everything was dark. No lights were allowed to burn so that the train would not be recognized in the darkness. Even their telephones were only allowed to be used under covers. The risk of being discovered was too great. In the distance, she could hear bomb impacts.
“A thunderstorm,” she told the children around her. As they drove into Kiev, she saw the shattered windows on the houses. It felt like an eternity when they stopped for two hours at Kiev’s main train station to pick up more passengers. Alyona felt alone when she got off the train in Lviv. Volunteers brought her some food and hot tea. She ate for the first time in 26 hours. She waited nine hours to continue her journey. She did not know how far it was to the Polish border. Later she learned that it was only about 80 kilometers. It took 19 hours for her to arrive in Poland. There was nothing to eat. Children were crying. No one could leave the compartment. The doors were locked. The train only moved once in a while. When she finally arrived in Przemyśl, Poland, and saw all the help that was offered, she had tears in her eyes. Alyona braced herself for having to sleep somewhere on the floor again.
“I have experience with that by now,” she says with a fleeting smile. Volunteers from Caritas Poland approached her and offered her the shelter at Elementary School No. 6 in Przemyśl. She accepted the offer. The local fire department provided transportation. Together with a family, they drove Alyona to the school. With blue light and siren. They were VIPs, the firemen said to them.
Alyona moved into one of the 80 beds provided by Caritas Poland in the gym. She finds the help admirable. Her bag does not contain many things. Some clothes, a few hygiene products. “Here I get everything I need for now,” she says. Alyona encourages others. “At home, they try to kill us. I never expected to encounter such helpfulness,” she explains. She already understands some Polish and tries to help with problems. When Caritas provided local psychologists, she supports a young girl she met.
She helps her to talk about the things she has experienced. It helps herself a little bit, too. Alyona wants to travel to Canada via Germany. Her stepbrother lives there in Montreal. She speaks English quite well. She doesn’t know French. But she has a talent for languages. On Sunday, Alyona is standing in the train station hall in Przemyśl. Again, she has to wait. In five hours, her train leaves for Rzepin on the German border near Frankfurt/Oder. She is on the phone with friends and her mother Irina in Kharkiv. The bombing has gotten worse. Food is even scarcer. Her mother is not yet ready to leave the city. This scares Alyona. She tries to convince her. Her only goal is to be reunited as a family. No matter where. Of course, in her homeland. At 6:00 p.m., she waits outside on the platform in the cold wind. The journey continues. First to Berlin, then to Düsseldorf. She wonders whether she can expect the same kind of help in Germany as here in Poland. She pulls the scarf over her head. The display shows an 80-minute delay. Alyona shrugs her shoulders.
Philipp Spalek for Caritas