2022.03.02 从乌克兰到波兰的大逃亡

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EYEWITNESS
“Svoboda! Liberté! Freedom!”: the great flight from Ukraine to Poland
Some refugees are welcomed with open arms. Others get a frostier reception



Mar 2nd 2022
BY WENDELL STEAVENSON

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We stood for a day in a queue of people outside the station in Przemysl on the Polish border, waiting for a train to get into Ukraine. A train had arrived from Lviv, two hours away on the Ukrainian side, and we could see a great number of refugees on the platform waiting to be processed by the Polish authorities.

At lunchtime it was sunny and unseasonably warm, and we exchanged hellos with the people standing in the queue next to us. Alex is 25 and had been living in Cambridge in Britain when war broke out. He was trying to get back to his girlfriend. He had bright blue eyes and a smile as wide as the steppe that belied a trembling bottom lip. If he returned to Ukraine there would be no way back: Ukrainian men of fighting age, those between 18 and 60, are not permitted to leave the country.

After their documents were processed, refugees emerged exhausted and pale with unslept faces. Mothers pushed buggies and held hands with their children. Some very young ones were crying, older ones dragged their feet with tiredness, teenagers stared wide and seemed in shock.





The numerous well-organised volunteers in yellow high-vis jackets handed out coffee, soup and sandwiches, and blankets and clothes for those who needed them. Over the road from the station, people held up signs advertising free rides to Krakow and Warsaw. I saw kindness in many small gestures: a policeman helping to carry bags; a station official giving cuddly toys to the kids.

“I am from Cameroon!” he cried, declaiming about God and Putin in several languages

We waited an hour, then two, then three. As the sun went in it became colder. I noticed that when African refugees came through they were accompanied by a phalanx of Polish police, who were not so polite and wore scarves wrapped around the lower half of their faces. One refugee objected to this treatment, throwing down his bags and opening his arms wide to heaven. “I am from Cameroon!” he cried, declaiming about God and Putin in several languages. “You took all my documents!” he said, “where are you taking me? Svoboda! Liberté! Freedom! They came with the guns and I don’t want to die! Svoboda! Liberté! Freedom!”

A woman standing beside him collapsed, unconscious. In the commotion of an ambulance crew arriving, I didn’t see if the Cameroonian managed to get on the bus with the other Africans. There have been other reports of foreign students being beaten up and experiencing racism along the way. Some who couldn’t get on a train have spent days on the road trying to get out. Some Ukrainians have friends or contacts in Poland. But citizens of other countries who make it over the border often have no idea what to do once they get there.





The train we’d intended to take left without any passengers. We were told it had been filled with humanitarian aid. Perhaps another train would come, but no one knew when or if it would take passengers. It began to snow.

The next morning we went to the road crossing at Medyka, half an hour’s drive east. Many people from India and Africa were arriving from the other direction, utterly exhausted. Some were unable to walk and sat slumped on plastic chairs. Volunteers gave them food and advice. A refugee camp had been set up nearby with somewhere to charge phones and a company that sold sim cards for €5 ($5.50).

He hadn’t wanted to call his parents until he was safe. Now his phone was dead

The refugees talked of long journeys: “We left Kharkiv on Thursday, six days ago”; “We tried to leave Odessa on Friday morning, but there was already a great crowd at the station and we couldn’t get on a train”. They told their stories in fragments, speaking of halted trains and buses, of minivan drivers demanding exorbitant fees, of cars that broke down or ran out of petrol. Some told us about being pushed off trains, so that women and children could board, which was perhaps understandable. There were also tales of sheer discrimination, of being pushed around and having guns pointed at them at checkpoints.





Dyn, from Congo-Brazzaville, is a 20-year-old pharmacy student travelling with two Congolese friends, Jessica, a doctor, and Randa. Randa was so tired she couldn’t even make the effort to sit down, she just stood swaying on her numb and aching feet. She told me that they had walked 55km in a day to the border. It had taken nine hours. Dyn had only a denim jacket lined with fake fur and was shivering, but wouldn’t move to a warmer place because he was waiting for another friend who was still being processed. He had an uncle in Poland who could help, but he hadn’t spoken to his parents yet because he hadn’t wanted to call them until he was safe. Now, of course, his phone was dead.

We took a taxi back to the station. With rumours of another train coming, a new queue of people was beginning to form. Two Ukrainians from France got into the taxi we had just got out of. They were going home to fight.■

Wendell Steavenson has reported on post-Soviet Georgia, the Iraq war and the Egyptian revolution. She is sending regular dispatches for 1843 magazine from Ukraine. You can read her previous one here. Additional reporting by Marion Péhée and Ann Hanna

PHOTOGRAPHS: MARION PEHEE



目击者
"Svoboda! Liberté! 自由！"：从乌克兰到波兰的大逃亡
一些难民受到了张开双臂的欢迎。其他难民则受到更冷淡的接待



2022年3月2日
作者：温德尔-斯坦文森

我们在波兰边境上的普泽米斯尔车站外排了一天的队，等待进入乌克兰的火车。一列火车从乌克兰一侧两小时车程的利沃夫驶来，我们可以看到站台上有大量的难民等待波兰当局的处理。

午餐时分，天气晴朗，温度不高，我们和旁边排队的人打了个招呼。亚历克斯今年25岁，战争爆发时他一直住在英国的剑桥。他正试图回到他的女朋友身边。他有一双明亮的蓝眼睛，笑容像草原一样宽广，掩盖了颤抖的下唇。如果他回到乌克兰，就没有退路了。处于战斗年龄的乌克兰男子，即18至60岁的人，不允许离开该国。

在他们的文件被处理后，难民们疲惫不堪，脸色苍白，没有睡意地走出来。母亲们推着马车，与他们的孩子手拉手。一些很小的孩子在哭，年长的孩子疲惫地拖着脚步，十几岁的孩子瞪大眼睛，似乎很震惊。









众多穿着黄色高维斯夹克的志愿者组织有序，为需要的人分发咖啡、汤和三明治，以及毯子和衣服。在车站的路上，人们举起了前往克拉科夫和华沙的免费乘车广告牌。我在许多小动作中看到了善意：一名警察帮助搬运行李；一名车站官员将可爱的玩具送给孩子们。

"我来自喀麦隆！"他哭着说，用几种语言宣扬上帝和普京。

我们等了一个小时，然后是两个小时，然后是三个小时。随着太阳升起，天气变得更加寒冷。我注意到，当非洲难民通过时，他们有一队波兰警察陪同，这些警察并不那么有礼貌，他们戴着围巾，把下半张脸包起来。一名难民反对这种待遇，扔下行李，向天张开双臂。"我来自喀麦隆！"他哭着说，用几种语言宣扬上帝和普京。"你们拿走了我所有的文件！"他说，"你们要把我带到哪里？斯沃博达! Liberté! 自由！自由！"他说。他们带着枪来了，我不想死! Svoboda! Liberté! 自由！"

站在他身边的一个女人倒下了，不省人事。在救护人员到来的骚乱中，我没有看到这个喀麦隆人是否设法和其他非洲人一起上了巴士。还有其他报道称，外国学生在途中被殴打，并遭遇种族主义。一些无法坐上火车的人在路上花了几天时间试图离开。一些乌克兰人在波兰有朋友或联系人。但其他国家的公民在越过边境后，往往不知道到了那里该怎么办。









我们打算乘坐的火车离开时没有任何乘客。我们被告知车上装满了人道主义援助。也许另一列火车会来，但没有人知道它何时或是否会载客。天开始下雪了。

第二天早上，我们去了东边半小时车程的梅迪卡公路口岸。许多来自印度和非洲的人正从另一个方向赶来，完全疲惫不堪。有些人无法行走，瘫坐在塑料椅子上。志愿者们给他们提供食物和建议。附近有一个难民营，里面有给手机充电的地方，有一家公司以5欧元（5.5美元）的价格出售SIM卡。

在他安全之前，他不想给父母打电话。现在他的手机已经坏了

难民们谈到了漫长的旅程。"我们在星期四离开哈尔科夫，六天前"；"我们试图在星期五早上离开敖德萨，但车站已经有很多人，我们无法登上火车"。他们断断续续地讲述了自己的故事，说到火车和公共汽车停运，小货车司机索要高额费用，汽车抛锚或没油了。有些人告诉我们，他们被推下火车，以便妇女和儿童能够上车，这也许是可以理解的。还有一些关于纯粹歧视的故事，他们被推来推去，在检查站被枪指着。










来自刚果（布）的Dyn是一名20岁的药剂学学生，她和两位刚果朋友--医生Jessica和Randa一起旅行。兰达非常疲惫，她甚至无法努力坐下来，只是站在麻木和疼痛的脚上摇摇晃晃。她告诉我，他们在一天内走了55公里到边境。这花了九个小时。戴恩只穿了一件衬有假毛皮的牛仔夹克，浑身发抖，但他不愿意搬到一个更温暖的地方，因为他在等待另一个仍在接受处理的朋友。他在波兰有一个叔叔，他可以提供帮助，但他还没有和他的父母说过话，因为在他安全之前他不想给他们打电话。当然，现在，他的电话已经断了。

我们乘出租车回到了车站。由于有传言说另一列火车即将到来，新的排队人群开始形成。两个来自法国的乌克兰人上了我们刚下的出租车。他们要回家去战斗。

温德尔-斯特文森曾报道过后苏联时期的格鲁吉亚、伊拉克战争和埃及革命。她定期为《1843》杂志发送来自乌克兰的消息。你可以在这里阅读她之前的文章。补充报道：马里昂-佩赫和安-汉娜

照片：玛丽安-佩希