2022.02.09一些乌克兰人忽视了战争的前景。其他人则在逃亡

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EYEWITNESS
Some Ukrainians ignore the prospect of war. Others are fleeing
Liza and Yulia, 26, disagree about the risk of a Russian invasion



Feb 9th 2022
BY RICHARD ENSOR


Ukrainians don’t ask themselves whether there will be a war with Russia. Instead, most wonder whether the existing one will get worse. In 2014, after protesters ousted the thuggish pro-Kremlin president Viktor Yanukovych, Russia annexed the Ukrainian peninsula of Crimea and backed gun-toting separatists in the eastern regions of Donetsk and Luhansk, where conflict still rages.

Some reports leaking from Western intelligence agencies foresee calamity on a new scale. Could the 100,000 or so Russian troops at the border really invade “at any time”, as America suggests? Might Kyiv, the capital, really fall within 72 hours? The Ukrainian government, for its part, retorts that a full-scale invasion is unlikely.

The people of Ukraine have to decide what to do with all this information. Thinking daily about war doesn’t alter the chance of it arriving at your door, but it can wreck your mood. A solid disaster plan could be life-saving. You could up and leave ahead of time to get out of harm’s way, at the cost of comfort and community. But what if nothing happens? Such dilemmas are among war’s earliest anguishes. For Ukrainians, they are already here.

“You can’t fit everything you love in a backpack”
LIZA, 26, KYIV
For Ukrainians, no year of your life passes by without a crisis. By now we can survive basically anything. That is why I love being Ukrainian. I don’t have that “toxic patriotism”, when someone is brainwashed to be willing to die for a concept or a country. Today, it’s fashionable to want to die for Ukraine. I was born and I will die Ukrainian. I want to pass this on to future generations. I love Ukraine but I will not die for it. I will not die for any idea.

I was 17 during the Maidan uprising in 2014. After school I’d go and spend time in the square, there was such a nice vibe. But one day, after I left, some students were beaten up by police. A foreigner asked me which way the protest was. I replied: “The revolution, you mean? The revolution is that way.” After the violence began my mother locked me inside our house and I wasn’t allowed to go. I was excited, but I was about to learn that revolutions can be bloody and depressing. My relatives lost their jobs, I was the only one in the family earning any money. Sometimes we didn’t have enough food. I knew that the revolution would be for the better – but I also knew that “better” wouldn’t come any time soon. Maybe we are still waiting for the “better”.






A war thaws Opening image: Liza, 26, in Kyiv. From top to bottom: The Dnieper river bisects Ukraine and runs through the capital. If war breaks out, Liza plans to leave Ukraine. To support political prisoners in Russia, Ukrainian artists painted a crack on the Peoples’ Friendship Arch, a monument in Kyiv
Perhaps that is why I had an itch to explore other countries. I left Ukraine for the first time in 2018. Travelling gave me a new personality, a new Liza was born in each country. I didn’t expect to stay away for so long, and I knew it wasn’t right to be so out of touch with my family. When I came back from Texas last year, my mum had a new partner, my sister had a baby and my little brother was a grown man. I didn’t know these new people, and I struggled to introduce the new me to them, too.

I don’t even remember the order of things back in 2014. Maybe Crimea was first. I wasn’t following it, I was surviving it. It didn’t feel like the war was coming to Kyiv. This time is different. Now I read everything. I wake up, and the first thing I do is google Russian aggression. I read Ukrainian news and my co-workers send me articles from American media – I work for an American marketing company.


Nobody really understands what is actually going on in the minds of Ukrainian people right now. Friends abroad are concerned and ask questions. But it’s hard. Sometimes I feel like this is entertainment for foreigners. They are in their apartments checking the news, it’s like watching Netflix for them. For us it’s reality. Ukrainians are often annoyed with this, they think the us is whipping up panic, which is bad for our economy. And the media plays along for clicks, for views, to sell you a subscription for the next month. There are so many people hyping it, even on TikTok.

Ukrainians prefer not to speak or read about it at all. They only listen to our president, Volodymyr Zelensky, who speaks in a calm voice – he used to be an actor and is such a charismatic person. I think he is doing the right thing, trying to get people not to panic. Typical Ukrainians don’t get lots of information from abroad. They hear only that everything is fine, that Russia will not invade, that it is just threatening us. This is what my Ukrainian friends say.

When I first heard the stories about Russia, I did some research and I figured that there might be danger. So I decided to talk to my family to see if they had a backup plan. They accused me of panicking, even though I was talking in a calm voice. I tried to get them to have a conversation, but they said they didn’t want to hear any news because it upset them. They’d prefer to be delusional. I realised that my family wouldn’t try to leave Ukraine until it’s too late. When I understood that, I made the decision to go by myself.

That’s my plan, now. But first I am buying food supplies for my family, getting some cash and hiding it all in our basement. If something happens hopefully they can go down there and find it. For me it’s easy to go. I’m young, I’m single. I don’t have a lot of belongings, I believe in this “vagabond” minimalist lifestyle. But I have a good group of friends and I worry that I will lose them. My family is here. You can’t fit everything you love in a backpack. I only have a little suitcase, with space for clothes and documents. I’ll take some cash and my laptop, because I need it to make money.




The Ukrainian frontier From top to bottom: Ukrainians gathered in Maidan square in central Kyiv, in 2013 and 2014 to protest against the government. A Romanian truck driver eats at a coffee shop on the border between Russia and Ukraine. Tens of thousands of Russian troops are massing on the border
Until I go, I’m staying at my mother’s house just outside Kyiv. When we speak about the news, there’s a wall. But the other day, my mum had a little brush with reality. An investor in her company is selling all its assets in Ukraine because there might be a war. At that moment I decided to tell her that I was about to leave the country for the same reason. Do you know what she said? “Oh, that will be a fun vacation.” She doesn’t get it.

For a long time I was searching for who I was. People abroad often wouldn’t know what or where Ukraine is. If they did, I was ashamed of all those stereotypes. But after this past year of being back in Ukraine, I’m proud. I haven’t felt like that before. Somehow, by leaving and learning about other cultures I realised that I am Ukrainian and that I really do belong here. I have just found my identity – but I might lose it soon.


This whole situation has made me think about what actually belongs to us. There are things that don’t belong to me even if I think they do. Let’s say your family has a house for generations. It’s yours at this given moment, but tomorrow it might not be – because a guy with a gun could come and say it’s not yours anymore. I used to think Crimea was a place that belonged to Ukraine in the same way, I used to go there in the summer and now I can’t. Maybe family is not so different.

I heard about a Ukrainian woman, 52, who joined the army – she’s in all the newspapers posing with a huge gun. At first I thought it was ridiculous. But you know what? Now I’m trying to get some guns for my family too, I have been googling that while waiting for my paycheque.

We lack information but try to make big decisions anyway. It’s like trying to assemble a puzzle with too many pieces missing. Maybe I am being delusional. To be honest I suspect nothing will happen in Kyiv. There is no reason for Russia to do this, they will end up paying so much for it. But the risk is great enough to have a back-up plan. There might be an invasion, and Kyiv is a sweet target. I can change from certainty to doubt and back a few times in a single day. I try to be as logical as I can, but nobody knows. This past week I have been crying every night. You see your family, you try to be in the moment, but you think about heavy things.




Lives lost From top to bottom: Some buildings in Ukraine were heavily damaged during fighting with Russia in 2014. Zina Lukyanenko’s brother, Levko, was a Soviet dissident and Ukrainian politician. Portraits of demonstrators who died during the protests in 2014
Maybe the best way is to tell myself with a smile: I’m just going away for a holiday, it will be fun, I will come back in six months and everything will be the same. But that would be a lie. I think about other things, too. I woke up today and I coughed once, and I thought maybe I was getting covid and I couldn’t go. I haven’t booked my flight yet. I’m procrastinating for a reason. I wake up every day hoping something will force me to stay here, even though I know I should go.

“The prospect of invasion feels unreal”
YULIA, 26, KHARKIV
Of course I have some doubts, but I’m 80% sure Russia won’t invade Ukraine. I reassure my friends and encourage them to be positive. The president said: don’t panic. That’s all there is to it. Why spread all these rumours? So you can sit up in bed at night because you cannot sleep?

I was born in Belovodsk, near Luhansk in eastern Ukraine. Most people there speak Russian, and when the war came in 2014 my mum and dad supported the Ukrainian side, but my grandparents, uncle and aunt did not. Whenever we sat down at the table together, any discussion about politics invariably led to rows.


This is standard in Ukraine, especially in the east. My generation was born and raised after Ukraine became independent from the former Soviet Union in 1991. We were taught in Ukrainian at school and inoculated with patriotism: a flag, an anthem, our history. That is why opinions differ greatly between generations.

In 2014, nobody was ready. I didn’t hear the news about war, I saw it. I was in Luhansk when the headquarters of Ukraine’s security service were seized; I saw that a crowd of Russian separatists had formed around the building. These were ordinary people, not soldiers, who had removed the Ukrainian flag from the building. I was 18 then, and I didn’t fully understand what was happening. How was this possible in my country – where was our army, where were our police, why didn’t anyone stop them?

We had to leave our home. I didn’t realise I would have to do so until the very last minute. The university told us to go. When I left my dormitory, I took only what I needed. I left my jewellery, my books and personal belongings. I thought it would all be resolved quickly, that I would come back and get everything. I never did.

In 2014 my region declared itself the “Luhansk People’s Republic” and pledged allegiance to Russia (it is not yet officially recognised by any country, including Russia). When my family decided to leave there was 100% agreement, no rows. There were explosions at the regional parliament: our decision was based on safety, not politics.




Doubt and defiance From top to bottom: The banks of the Dnieper river. Yulia, 26, thinks it’s “silly” to get upset about the prospect of war with Russia. The Three Sisters monument, which is at the junction of the borders between Russia, Belarus and Ukraine, was built as a symbol of friendship between the countries
My family moved to Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second city, but first I went to study in Kyiv, where everything was much more Ukrainian. The mood was patriotic. I found a place where everyone had the same opinion. They were more pro-European and pro-Ukrainian than my family.

Living with conflict has become normal: we’re used to people fighting and dying in parts of the country. For the past eight years Ukrainians have had to watch the same news unfolding on every tv channel. Every day there is a summary of the war. The newspapers are full of what happened at the front, an anti-terrorist operation here, a shoot-out there. Now there is news of another invasion. But we are told that no, the Russians will not come because if they did attack us, they’d face tough sanctions. And we think: “Oh cool! America is protecting us.”

But I know from experience that Vladimir Putin can turn around and spit on you. These are the games of big people. Right? America and Russia. Maybe Putin will switch suddenly, and he will decide: “I want Kharkiv to be ours, too.” We cannot be sure that the Ukrainian state will protect us, that everything will be fine, because Russia is much stronger than us militarily.

I don’t watch tv. I get my news online and from my friends. I saw the president give a speech where he told the whole nation – and Kharkiv residents in particular – not to panic. He asked us not to send each other inflammatory news articles. But my friends are still sending anxious messages in our group chats: “Russia has gathered troops near the border”; “Oh, have you seen helicopters flying across Kharkiv at night?”; “War must be coming soon.”





A chill in the air From top to bottom: Sacha, who now lives in Ivanhard, Ukraine, left Donetsk during the fighting with Russia in 2014. Scenes near the border with Russia. Nadezhda Ivanova, who lives in eastern Ukraine, says of a Russian invasion: “If something happens, we’ll just go to the basement again”
I trust our president because he speaks in simple words. He asks: why only now are we talking about this threat, if it has been around for eight years? I want to believe Zelensky when he tells us there is no need to be concerned. I do believe him.

The prospect of invasion feels unreal. My family and I can’t imagine it happening. That’s why no one is coming up with a serious plan of action. My older relatives don’t want to leave their beloved family home. If Kharkiv is occupied in the same way that Luhansk was, I think they will stay there anyway and live according to the new rules. Not me. I am 26, I’m free, not tied to any place or city. I don’t have my own apartment, not even a cat.


My sister and I do things together. I live on one side of Kharkiv, she lives on the other. We’re starting to make plans for if suddenly Russia attacks us, what we’ll do if the phone and internet are cut off and the metro is closed. We agreed that I’ll go to her house and then we’ll travel together. But I think leaving Ukraine now – just because such things might happen – is very stupid. To sit around, get upset, wind yourself up every day, read the terrible news and collect all your things? I think it’s silly.

During the second world war lots of Soviet and Ukrainian women were just as heroic as men. And wow, you admire it. If necessary, I think many young women will go to defend the country now. My mother trained as a nurse – she could be called up. But I don’t have such useful skills: I work at a food-delivery service, training junior staff. I’m not a doctor, I’m not a sniper, I’m not a pilot.

It’s easy to feel anxious when you see some of the terrifying posts on social media, but I can handle it. Today I’m seeing friends as if everything is fine. It probably looks funny from the outside. Perhaps you think that tomorrow there will be a war – but we are going out for drinks and being cheerful. But this is life. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, we are stuck in our precise geographical location. We have big, terrible Russia nearby. What are you going to do about it? This is my country. I live here. And that’s it.■

Richard Ensor is The Economist’s correspondent for Russia and Ukraine

PHOTOGRAPHS: MARION PÉHÉE




目击者
一些乌克兰人忽视了战争的前景。其他人则在逃亡
26岁的莉莎和尤利娅对俄罗斯入侵的风险持不同意见



2022年2月9日
作者：Richard ensor


乌克兰人并不问自己是否会与俄罗斯发生战争。相反，大多数人想知道现有的战争是否会变得更糟。2014年，在抗议者赶走亲克里姆林宫的暴徒总统维克多-亚努科维奇后，俄罗斯吞并了乌克兰的克里米亚半岛，并支持东部地区顿涅茨克和卢甘斯克的持枪分离主义分子，那里的冲突仍在持续。

一些从西方情报机构泄露出来的报告预见到了新规模的灾难。边境上的10万左右的俄罗斯军队真的会像美国所说的那样 "随时 "入侵吗？首都基辅是否真的会在72小时内沦陷？乌克兰政府则反驳说，全面入侵是不可能的。

乌克兰人民必须决定如何处理所有这些信息。每天思考战争并不会改变它来到你家门口的机会，但它可以破坏你的心情。一个坚实的灾难计划可能会拯救生命。你可以提前起身离开，以舒适和社区为代价，脱离危险的道路。但如果什么都不发生呢？这样的困境是战争中最早期的痛苦。对乌克兰人来说，他们已经在这里了。

"你不可能把你所爱的一切都装在背包里"
丽萨，26岁，基辅
对于乌克兰人来说，你的生活中没有一年是没有危机的。到现在为止，我们基本上什么都能应付。这就是为什么我喜欢做乌克兰人。我没有那种 "有毒的爱国主义"，当一个人被洗脑，愿意为一个概念或一个国家而死。今天，想为乌克兰而死是一种时尚。我生于斯，死于斯，我是乌克兰人。我想把这一点传给子孙后代。我爱乌克兰，但我不会为它而死。我不会为任何想法而死。

2014年迈丹起义期间，我17岁。放学后，我就去广场上呆着，那里的气氛很好。但有一天，在我离开后，一些学生被警察打了。一个外国人问我，抗议活动在哪个方向。我回答说。"你是说革命吗？革命是那条路。" 暴力事件开始后，我母亲把我锁在家里，不允许我离开。我很兴奋，但我即将了解到，革命可能是血腥和令人沮丧的。我的亲戚们都失去了工作，我是家里唯一挣钱的人。有时我们没有足够的食物。我知道革命是为了更好地发展--但我也知道，"更好 "不会很快到来。也许我们仍在等待 "更好 "的到来。




一场战争解冻了开放的形象。莉莎，26岁，在基辅。从上到下。第聂伯河将乌克兰一分为二，流经首都。如果战争爆发，莉莎计划离开乌克兰。为了支持俄罗斯的政治犯，乌克兰艺术家在基辅的人民友谊拱门上画了一条裂缝，这是一座纪念碑。
也许这就是为什么我有一种探索其他国家的痒感。2018年，我第一次离开乌克兰。旅行给了我一个新的个性，一个新的莉莎在每个国家诞生。我没有想到会离开这么久，我知道与家人如此失联是不对的。当我去年从德克萨斯回来时，我妈妈有了新的伴侣，我妹妹有了孩子，我的小弟弟也长大了。我不认识这些新的人，我也很难向他们介绍新的我。

我甚至不记得2014年时的事情的顺序。也许克里米亚是第一个。我没有关注它，我在生存它。我并不觉得战争会降临到基辅。这一次不同了。现在我什么都看。我醒来后，做的第一件事就是谷歌俄罗斯的侵略。我阅读乌克兰新闻，我的同事给我发美国媒体的文章--我在一家美国营销公司工作。


没有人真正了解现在乌克兰人民心中究竟发生了什么。国外的朋友们都很关心，并提出问题。但这很难。有时我觉得这是对外国人的娱乐。他们在公寓里查看新闻，这对他们来说就像看Netflix。对我们来说，这就是现实。乌克兰人经常对此感到恼火，他们认为我们在煽动恐慌，这对我们的经济不利。而媒体为了点击率，为了浏览量，为了卖给你下个月的订阅费而配合。有很多人在炒作它，甚至在TikTok上。

乌克兰人宁愿不说也不读。他们只听我们的总统Volodymyr Zelensky说话，他说话的声音很平静--他曾经是一个演员，是一个如此有魅力的人。我认为他正在做正确的事情，试图让人们不要惊慌。典型的乌克兰人并没有从国外得到很多信息。他们只听到一切都很好，俄罗斯不会入侵，它只是在威胁我们。这是我的乌克兰朋友所说的。

当我第一次听到关于俄罗斯的故事时，我做了一些研究，我想可能会有危险。所以我决定和我的家人谈谈，看看他们是否有备用计划。他们指责我惊慌失措，尽管我是用平静的声音说话。我试图让他们进行交谈，但他们说他们不想听到任何消息，因为这让他们感到不安。他们宁愿是妄想。我意识到，我的家人不会试图离开乌克兰，直到它太晚了。当我明白这一点时，我做出了自己去的决定。

这是我的计划，现在。但首先，我正在为我的家人购买食品用品，获得一些现金，并将其全部藏在我们的地下室。如果发生什么事，希望他们能下去找。对我来说，这很容易去。我很年轻，我是单身。我没有太多的财物，我相信这种 "流浪者 "的极简主义生活方式。但是我有一群好朋友，我担心会失去他们。我的家人在这里。你不可能在一个背包里装下你所爱的一切。我只有一个小手提箱，有空间放衣服和文件。我会带一些现金和我的笔记本电脑，因为我需要它来挣钱。




乌克兰的边疆 从上到下 2013年和2014年，乌克兰人聚集在基辅市中心的Maidan广场，抗议政府。一名罗马尼亚卡车司机在俄罗斯和乌克兰边境的一家咖啡店吃饭。数以万计的俄罗斯军队正在边境上集结
在我走之前，我住在基辅郊外我母亲的家里。当我们谈论新闻时，有一堵墙。但有一天，我妈妈与现实发生了一点冲突。她公司的一个投资者正在出售其在乌克兰的所有资产，因为可能会有一场战争。在那一刻，我决定告诉她，我因为同样的原因即将离开这个国家。你知道她说什么吗？"哦，那将是一个有趣的假期。" 她不明白。

在很长一段时间里，我一直在寻找我是谁。国外的人往往不会知道乌克兰是什么或在哪里。如果他们知道，我对所有这些刻板印象感到羞愧。但在过去一年回到乌克兰后，我很自豪。我以前没有这种感觉。不知为何，通过离开和了解其他文化，我意识到我是乌克兰人，我真的属于这里。我刚刚找到我的身份--但我可能很快就会失去它。


这整个情况让我思考什么是真正属于我们的。有一些东西不属于我，即使我认为它们属于我。比方说，你的家庭世代都有一栋房子。在这个特定的时刻，它是你的，但明天它可能就不是了--因为一个拿着枪的人可能会来，说它不再是你的了。我曾经认为克里米亚是一个属于乌克兰的地方，以同样的方式，我曾经在夏天去那里，现在我不能了。也许家庭并不那么不同。

我听说一个52岁的乌克兰妇女参军了--她在所有的报纸上摆着巨大的枪支。起初我认为这很荒唐。但你知道吗？现在我也想为我的家人买一些枪，我在等待工资支票的时候一直在谷歌上搜索。

我们缺乏信息，但还是试图做出重大决定。这就像试图组装一个缺少太多碎片的拼图。也许我是在痴心妄想。说实话，我怀疑在基辅不会发生什么。俄罗斯没有理由这样做，他们最终将为此付出巨大的代价。但风险很大，需要有一个后备计划。可能会有一场入侵，而基辅是一个甜蜜的目标。我可以在一天之内从确定到怀疑，然后再回到确定。我尽量做到合乎逻辑，但没有人知道。在过去的一周里，我每天晚上都在哭泣。你看到你的家人，你试着沉浸在当下，但你想到的是沉重的事情。




从上到下的生命损失。在2014年与俄罗斯的战斗中，乌克兰的一些建筑被严重损坏。齐娜-卢基扬年科的哥哥列夫科是苏联持不同政见者和乌克兰政治家。在2014年的抗议活动中死亡的示威者的画像
也许最好的办法是微笑着告诉自己。我只是去度假，会很开心，六个月后回来，一切都会一样。但这将是一个谎言。我也想过其他事情。我今天醒来时咳嗽了一次，我想也许我得了胆囊炎，我不能去。我还没有订机票。我拖拖拉拉是有原因的。我每天醒来都希望有什么东西能迫使我留在这里，尽管我知道我应该走。

"入侵的前景感觉不真实"
尤利娅，26岁，哈尔科夫
当然，我也有一些怀疑，但我80%确定俄罗斯不会入侵乌克兰。我安抚我的朋友，鼓励他们积极乐观。总统说：不要惊慌。这就是全部内容。为什么要散布这些谣言？这样你就可以在晚上坐在床上，因为你无法入睡？

我出生在乌克兰东部卢甘斯克附近的贝洛沃茨克。那里的大多数人都说俄语，2014年战争来临时，我的妈妈和爸爸支持乌克兰方面，但我的祖父母、叔叔和婶婶不支持。每当我们一起坐在桌前，任何关于政治的讨论都会导致争吵。


这是乌克兰的标准，尤其是在东部地区。我这一代人是在1991年乌克兰从前苏联独立后出生和长大的。我们在学校接受了乌克兰语教育，并接受了爱国主义教育：国旗、国歌、我们的历史。这就是为什么几代人之间的意见差别很大。

在2014年，没有人准备好。我没有听到关于战争的新闻，我看到了它。当乌克兰安全局总部被占领时，我在卢甘斯克；我看到一群俄罗斯分离主义分子在大楼周围形成了。这些都是普通人，而不是士兵，他们把乌克兰的旗帜从大楼上取下来。那时我才18岁，我还没有完全明白发生了什么。在我的国家，这怎么可能呢--我们的军队在哪里，我们的警察在哪里，为什么没有人阻止他们？

我们不得不离开我们的家。直到最后一刻，我才意识到我必须这样做。大学告诉我们要走。当我离开我的宿舍时，我只带了我需要的东西。我留下了我的珠宝，我的书和个人物品。我以为这一切会很快得到解决，我会回来拿回所有东西。我从来没有这样做过。

2014年，我所在的地区宣布自己为 "卢甘斯克人民共和国"，并宣誓效忠于俄罗斯（它尚未被任何国家，包括俄罗斯正式承认）。当我的家人决定离开时，有100％的协议，没有争吵。在地区议会发生了爆炸：我们的决定是基于安全，而不是政治。




怀疑和蔑视 从上到下。第聂伯河畔。26岁的尤利娅认为，对与俄罗斯的战争前景感到不安是 "愚蠢的"。三姐妹纪念碑位于俄罗斯、白俄罗斯和乌克兰边界的交界处，是作为国家间友谊的象征而建造的。
我的家人搬到了乌克兰的第二大城市哈尔科夫，但我首先去了基辅学习，那里的一切都更像乌克兰人。这里的气氛是爱国的。我发现一个每个人都有相同意见的地方。他们比我的家人更亲欧洲和亲乌克兰。

在冲突中生活已经成为常态：我们已经习惯了在国家的部分地区有人战斗和死亡。在过去的八年里，乌克兰人不得不在每个电视频道上观看同样的新闻展开。每天都有关于战争的总结。报纸上充斥着前线发生的事情，这里有反恐行动，那里有枪战。现在又有了另一次入侵的消息。但我们被告知，不，俄罗斯人不会来，因为如果他们真的攻击我们，他们会面临严厉的制裁。我们想："哦，太好了！美国在保护我们。美国在保护我们。"

但我从经验中知道，弗拉基米尔-普京可以转身对你吐口水。这些都是大人物的游戏。对吗？美国和俄罗斯。也许普京会突然转换，他将决定： "我希望哈尔科夫也是我们的。" 我们不能确定乌克兰国家会保护我们，一切都会好起来，因为俄罗斯在军事上比我们强大得多。

我不看电视。我在网上和从我的朋友那里获得新闻。我看到总统发表了一个演讲，他告诉全国人民--特别是哈尔科夫居民--不要恐慌。他要求我们不要互相发送煽动性的新闻文章。但我的朋友们仍然在我们的群聊中发送焦虑的信息。"俄罗斯在边境附近集结了军队"；"哦，你有没有看到直升机在晚上飞过哈尔科夫？"；"战争一定会很快到来。"




空气中的寒意 从上到下。现在住在乌克兰伊万哈德的萨沙，在2014年与俄罗斯的战斗中离开了顿涅茨克。与俄罗斯边境附近的景象。生活在乌克兰东部的娜杰日达-伊万诺娃在谈到俄罗斯入侵时说。"如果有事发生，我们就再去地下室"
我相信我们的总统，因为他说的是简单的话。他问道：既然这种威胁已经存在了八年，为什么我们现在才谈论它？当泽伦斯基告诉我们没有必要担心的时候，我想相信他。我确实相信他。

入侵的前景感觉不真实。我的家人和我都无法想象它的发生。这就是为什么没有人想出一个严肃的行动计划。我的老亲戚们都不想离开他们心爱的家。如果哈尔科夫像卢甘斯克一样被占领，我想他们无论如何都会留在那里，按照新规则生活。我则不然。我26岁了，我是自由的，不被任何地方或城市束缚。我没有自己的公寓，甚至没有一只猫。


我的姐姐和我一起做事情。我住在哈尔科夫的一边，她住在另一边。我们开始制定计划，如果俄罗斯突然袭击我们，如果电话和网络被切断，地铁被关闭，我们该怎么办。我们商定，我去她家，然后我们一起旅行。但我认为现在离开乌克兰--仅仅因为这种事情可能发生--是非常愚蠢的。坐在那里，心烦意乱，每天给自己上发条，看那些可怕的新闻，收集你所有的东西？我认为这是愚蠢的。

在第二次世界大战期间，许多苏联和乌克兰的妇女和男人一样英勇。而且，哇，你很佩服它。如果有必要，我想现在很多年轻女性会去保卫国家。我母亲受过护士培训--她可以被征召。但我没有这种有用的技能。我在一家食品配送公司工作，培训初级员工。我不是医生，我不是狙击手，我不是飞行员。

当你看到社交媒体上的一些可怕的帖子时，很容易感到焦虑，但我可以处理。今天我和朋友见面，好像一切都很好。从外面看，这可能很可笑。也许你认为明天会有一场战争--但我们却要出去喝酒，而且是开开心心的。但这就是生活。是的，它是可怕的。是的，我们被困在我们精确的地理位置上。我们附近有大的、可怕的俄罗斯。你打算怎么做呢？这是我的国家。我住在这里。就是这样。

理查德-恩索尔是《经济学人》杂志驻俄罗斯和乌克兰的记者。

照片：Marion Péhée