
“I didn’t tell my mother where we were going at first,” Lilia said. “I didn’t want to upset her. I felt like I was watching a film about World War II. So many people and pets crammed the station. Once we boarded, a man with a gun walked through ordering Ukrainian men out of our train; they needed to stay behind to fight. Our darkened compartment held eight people, including three ‘grannies’ plus three cats. My Mushia spent much of the ten-hour journey to Lviv looking out the window as we crossed Ukraine.”
Lilia’s evacuation train left Kyiv on February 25, 2022, the day after Russia invaded Ukraine. She made the 540-kilometer journey to Lviv before boarding a second train to Poland. She was accompanied by Galina, her 83-year-old mother, and Mushia, her fluffy brown cat. Lilia hurriedly packed documents, sandwiches, and a few articles of clothing, including one unmatched sock. She left behind her country, her city, her job, her apartment, her plants, her friends, and family members who decided to remain in the besieged city.
The chaos, stress and sadness of the mass evacuations triggered traumatic memories of World War II for Lilia’s mother. Galina recounted a story Lilia heard many times since her childhood. Galina, as a five-year-old, witnessed a German aerial bomb make a direct hit on her family’s home in Semyduby, a village near Odessa Her father and grandmother, who were inside, were killed instantly. Galina helped her pregnant mother dig a grave together to bury the remains. Galina remembers seeing her sobbing mother lay atop her husband’s grave. Lilia tried to distract her mother, reminding her that they were going to Poland to see her granddaughter, Anastasia, who immigrated to Poland several years ago.
“When I looked at the sad, weary faces, it struck me that there were so many women and children with their dogs and cats,” Lilia said. “There were also elderly people and foreign students. Our men stayed behind. I worry about who will return to Ukraine. Our men are dying. Our cities are being bombed. Will all these Ukrainian women and children return? Putin is trying to destroy the future of our country.”
“Ten hours into our train ride, a baby began crying and would not stop,” Lilia said. “The mother was doing everything she could to calm her child. People began covering their ears. The crying continued, adding stress to an already stressful situation of people fleeing war in an over packed train. An African university student* offered to hold the baby for the distraught mother. The student cradled the baby, smiled, cooed and the crying ceased. People applauded. Smiles emerged on faces. That student held the child for one-and-a-half hours, as he stood with his luggage.”
Lilia, Galina and Mushia arrived in Lviv amid a rush of refugees. They boarded a second train to make the ninety-seven-kilometer trip to Przemyśl, Poland. This supposed shorter journey was lengthened by sixteen unexpected hours of the train idling on the tracks, likely encumbered by the mass of evacuation trains heading west to the Polish border.
“We were stuck in a field, with no water or toilets,” Lilia said.
This train had wooden seats. Compartments were packed with ten people each and a menagerie of children, babies and pets. Travelers were weary from long journeys and worry for loved ones—-husbands, fathers, and sons fighting the invaders. Many also left behind family members who chose to wait out the war at home, despite bombing, sniper fire and attacks on infrastructure, leaving thousands without electricity or easy access to water.
“We crossed the Polish border at 3 a.m. on February 27th,” Lilia said, “Volunteers were waiting with food, water and warm drinks at the train station in Przemysl. All pets had to be vaccinated. The line was very long. We waited for three or four hours for Mushia to get her shots. People asked us, ‘Where are you going? Krakow? Warsaw? Someplace else? Aleksander, a volunteer, drove us in his private car to my daughter’s home in Krakow. Mushia was so stressed; she did not eat or pee at all during our journey.”
Lilia misses her apartment in Ukraine. She misses attending theater in Kyiv. She misses her friends and extended family. Her sister, who chose to remain in Kyiv, stops by Lilia’s apartment to water her plants.
Nine months into her stay in Krakow, Lilia teaches in a program serving Ukrainian elementary students, ages six and seven, relocated due to the war. Her love of teaching is evident in her fun, spunky interactions with the little ones. She wrote a recent Halloween-themed play about Caspar the Ghost. Lilia donned a pointy witch’s hat and cape as she narrated the story designed to teach her charges about this new, unfamiliar holiday. Lilia stays up late into the night to work on a children’s book of fairy tales she is writing—with her beloved Mushia at her side, purring and nudging her for attention.
“This experience has taught me that I am brave and very strong,” Lilia said. “I am learning from this experience. I’ve met a lot of new people. It’s interesting to meet a new culture here in Poland. I have gratitude for these new lessons. I now know what I need to do. I need to teach my students about Ukrainian culture and our history and encourage love for their country.”
Time will tell when Putin’s war ends. Lilia and her students have found a way forward where learning intermingles with laughter despite the difficulty of this time.
About Lilia: Lilia was born November 13, 1968, in Kyiv when Ukraine was a republic within the (former) U.S.S.R. Her father, a builder, was a member of the Communist Party. He chose party membership to spare his family the significant burdens and risks of non-membership in a totalitarian state. Lilia’s mother secretly arranged for her baptism by a Ukrainian Orthodox priest—in their kitchen sink. Lilia was outwardly raised to be a “good communist”, as a red-scarved Pioneer and Komsomol graduate. She earned a Master’s Degree in English at Kyiv National Linguistic University. She has taught for over thirty years, including an appointment at a school for visually impaired students. She studied belly-dancing and is known to do a superb imitation of Marilyn Monroe in Karaoke. She currently lives in Krakow with her mother and cat Mushia.
*Lilia heard reports of Black university students being removed from trains. This was not her experience. She witnessed Ukrainian women, children, elderly and foreign nationals (including students of color) allowed to leave on evacuation trains.
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It’s interesting how Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is called “Putin’s war” by Lilia. Putin is not carrying a rifle or manning artillery but ordinary Russians are.
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