Olga and Sasha are two Ukrainian sisters. The first is 35 years old and is a wine merchant in Paris, where she has lived for seven years. The second, aged 33, lives in kyiv with her parents and grandmother. The two sisters have accepted, since the beginning of the conflict, to keep their logbook to “M”. This week, Olga, back in Paris, remains moved by her week in kyiv, where she experienced the reality of war. Sasha clings to moments of respite in a daily life punctuated by bombings and power cuts.
Tuesday, November 15
Olga: I have to go back to France tonight, but I don’t want to. A storm of emotions runs through me. In the morning, I take Grandma to the doctor. Since there is no electricity, the doctor uses old instruments to make diagnoses, it hurts him. Outside, it’s cold, we feel the beginning of winter. On the way back, I go to the supermarket to buy a bottle of wine for my last lunch with Sasha. A siren erupts. I don’t even react anymore. But, on returning to my sister’s, I learn that there is a missile attack. We sit in the hallway, on a bench, Sasha, me, and the dog between us.
This is my first attack. I don’t understand that it’s real and that I’m one of the people who can die at this precise second. I offer to go down into the shelter, but I see that my sister doesn’t want to. I’m starting to understand why. Continuing to do everyday, ordinary things, it feels like there are no missiles. Descending into the cold and stinking shelter brings you back down to earth, becoming aware of the sad reality of war. Staying at home simply helps not to go crazy.
The human psyche protects itself as best it can. So we stay in the hallway drinking our wine and we forget. The attack ends. A hundred missiles were sent all over the country. I go to the station, I say goodbye to Sasha. I am quick to make these farewells as painless as possible. I still haven’t reconciled with my mother, it makes me very sad. I find dad at the station, he accompanies me to the train. My arrival, my departure, my presence for six days, everything seems unreal to me.
Sasha: While Russia [Olga et Sasha ont choisi de ne pas mettre de majuscule à « russe », « russie » et « poutine »] try to plunge the whole country into darkness, I’m at home. I have lessons and I am preparing for Olga’s departure. After three weeks together, we separate and it’s very hard. We are on edge. I feel lost. My trip to France and this little week with Olga at home in Kyiv [Kiev, en ukrainien] were my only landmark lately. Now I have to look for others to get through the long winter and project myself towards victory.
You have 79.14% of this article left to read. The following is for subscribers only.