Instead of a guitar , Albina was carrying a backpack , and that in itself was strange . That guitar , which she had arduously transported from Crimea to Kyiv three years ago , is now left behind in a small , abandoned room in the Ukrainian capital .
The uncertainty of escape does not allow large suitcases with space for instruments or canvases . Although art keeps people sane , war pragmatism keeps them alive . The number of dreams abandoned by refugees at dark railway stations is incalculable . People carry them for thousands of kilometres in heat and cold , on buses and feet . Most of them do not know yet that it is just the beginning of their wandering .
With her girlfriend , Ira , Albina left Kyiv on the 28th of February . The first train that approached the station took them to Lviv , where they stayed overnight at a friend ’ s house . Initially , they did not want to leave Ukraine but , because Albina ’ s aunt from Kharkiv was fleeing to Poland , the girls decided to join her . As the main junction between the two countries , the station in Lviv was jam-fulled with women , children , and pets .
“ The number of people and the sound of sirens were really crazy , so my auntie found a driver that would drive us to the border ,” said
Albina . There , the chaos got worse . “ It is still the first week of the war , so everyone is panicking . It is late in the evening ; the atmosphere is just terrifying and the slow process of going through the border does not help .” Most of the Ukrainian customs officers were not working as they had already joined the army , hence poor organisation .
Early in the morning , Albina and Ira could finally move into the new country . The volunteers at the registration points helped them find a way to the western part of Poland , where Albina ’ s brother plays
football . He could only accommodate the girls for one night , so the following day , again , they had to pick up their backpacks and carry on the blind journey . Wroclaw , the biggest city in the southwestern part of Poland , kept them for two consecutive nights .
In the meantime , Ira ’ s mom and her 13-year-old sister fled Odesa in south Ukraine . Their path led through Romania , Moldavia , and Hungary . To meet up altogether somewhere in Poland , Ira and Albina did not have any choice but to wait . However , the hostels were running out of places , and the girls — out of money .
Nick , a Latvian friend of Ira , whom she had met a few years earlier at a concert , unexpectedly came to their aid . Through one of his roommates in London , he found a family that could keep the girls for as long as they needed . At 10 pm , they booked an early morning train and a few hours later , they arrived in a small town at the other end of Poland , Ostróda .
These two weeks were a strange mixture of relief and anxiety . Even t h o u g h everything in the town was prepared for the newly arrived Ukrainians , it was not the homeland . In mid- M a r c h , Ira ’ s family crossed the Polish border , which m e a n t m o v i n g again , this time to her mum ’ s friends near Antwerp , Belgium . “ I ’ ve understood that now , I can move to any country I want . I ’ d have social help , money , a place to live ,” Albina hesitates and bites her lip . “ I don ’ t want to go anywhere but Kyiv .”
“ They all want to go back there very much ,” says Brunon Odolczyk , a coordinator of The Aid Centre at 20 Puławska Street in Warsaw , a place where refugees from Ukraine receive free support , information , and help . Every day , the centre welcomes and helps around 500 Ukrainians .
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