WILL RICHARDSSON’S STORY (WARSAW-KORCZOWA-LVIV-WARSAW)
My mate Will Richardson is a journalist from the USA, living in Poland. Will wrote this nice story about this moment. The following is in his words:
“LVIV, Ukraine: At dawn all is quiet. Streets deserted. Police patrols search for saboteurs. Blue lights in front of the George Hotel halt progress. The copper comes to the window with hand on his holstered pistol. Passports produced kill the tension. These two are not spies. They are on their way to collect a mother and baby at the train station. The curfew ends at 6 am, the policeman, says. Good work, he adds.
Under the dark snow-filled sky, the area in front of the station is buzzing with activity and with the humanity spilling from those constant incoming trains from the East. These vessels maintain the flow to the heart of Western Ukraine. The border is near, and a million souls have come and gone beyond it in the last week. Think of it.. What acidic paranoia is this?
A fire bursting from an oil drum provides warmth for passengers chilled to the bone by by weather and by thoughts of war. There is no panic, no pushing, no excitement of any kind. We are on lockstep. We are moving in the same trance. The West is calling: the West is the Best, as my friend Vova like to quote.
Our designated refugees appear, hopeful and smiling. The husband kisses his wife goodbye. He cannot leave the country. That leaves Mother and Child. And the promise of some kind of future. You cannot feel good about this, but it is the least one can do. And yet, it does not feel like nearly enough.
Next time we will bring a bus.”
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