Two months of anxiety. Part 3. We met Mama and before us stood the task of getting as soon as possible to Copenhagen, to my sister’s flat. At first we tried to take a room in a decent hotel, but everything there was taken, and in the hostel we could stay only until 10 in the morning. My sister decided to look at a rational route. Naturally that was a plane, but from Kraków, late in the evening. ...
Two months of anxiety. Part 2. A night of waiting. We had planned and paid in advance for a youth hostel, a room for two. When we got off the bus at the railway station, we understood that on our own on foot at 22 o’clock in the evening we would not walk and would not find this hostel. We went up to the police, we ask, and the police are “not local people,” they politely send us to ask the local people in reflective yellow vests, the volunteers. We go up, they take us for arriving refugees and want to send us to the station to spend the night in the waiting hall. We try to explain that we are meeting Mama in the morning and will be going to Denmark. “Ah! To Denmark! And here is a bus for refugees, tomorrow it will go to Denmark, so you can spend the night here at the station.” Sensitive, responsive people, the volunteers! But we understand that we need to find a taxi and get to the hostel. ...
Two months of anxiety. Part 1 The first days of the war in Ukraine. Confusion and incomprehension in my soul. Nothing to calm myself with. I look for a way out, I think how to evacuate Mama. Alarming reports, who is right — who is to blame — what to do — unknown. And then on Facebook they show a live broadcast from Moscow, a government sitting headed by Valentina Matviyenko. They reason and report about money and not a word about military actions on the territory of Ukraine. That was, I think, 3 March. The war in full swing, people are being killed, they are bombing, and in Moscow they reason how to distribute the budget! And those listening to this nonsense can write comments as the sitting goes on. ...