I have been here for part of five days–just an instant compared to people who live here. As far as I can tell, Ukrainians are tired but not even remotely interested in quitting.
Air raid alerts sound several times every day. Mostly, these alerts do not result in actual attacks. The Russians send up a MiG to cause an air alert and disrupt everyone’s day.
We are all familiar with disruptions, but it is different to face a hostile state that is trying to maximize inconvenience for years on end. The Russians choose their times and methods for that purpose. My class had to relocate to a bomb shelter while we were doing our introductions on the first day and when the participants were offering their final reflections at the very end. Of course, this was a coincidence (Putin doesn’t know or care about my course), but the point is that anything you try to accomplish is subject to disruption.
And sometimes the threat is real. Last night, there were drone and ballistic missile strikes across the country, including here. On Wednesday night, a local fire chief responded to a drone attack and found his entire family had been killed. These stories add up.
Meanwhile, Ukrainians face the overload of one difficult choice after another. Do I go to the shelter or ride this one out? Do I try to move abroad or stay in the country? I think the emotional toll is substantial. A clinical psychologist told me that “PTSD” is not the appropriate diagnosis, because the “P” stands for “post-.” Here, the trauma continues.
I might also note that there’s a feeling of unreality to it all. This is a country at war. Last night in Kyiv, we had a small but actual battle. If you watch a video like this one from The New York Times, you will see moments and locations around Kyiv where the violence was most dramatic.
Yet most of life continues in a normal way in a large, modern city of about 3 million people. This morning, I could not see evidence of last night’s violence from where I am staying. I don’t think I could hear explosions from the bomb shelter. Normal life—millions of commuters, teenagers clowning around, moms with toddlers in pleasant restaurants—belies the danger.
(The Times‘ video also shows a parking garage very much like the one where I spent last night. There was no dog that I noticed, but there was a very cute baby who was happy enough to be awake most of the night on Mommy’s lap.)
