A new co-worker.... baptism by fire.

Yesterday was the closest I've come to death in Ukraine. All this week Kherson has been hit by shelling and mortar fire. People have lost there lives. It has become a very dangerous place. So much so that foreigners are no longer allowed to enter Kherson, without prior permission, this following the deaths of several foreign volunteers in recent weeks.

There is now a seven page document which you need to complete, 3 days before you can even be considered to enter Kherson. This document has to be forwarded to the area army commander for approval. You must specify many things including the exact route you will take to your destination. Obviously this is all in Ukrainian, except the final paragraph which is in English, states bleakly, that there is a high level of danger and possibility of injury, and you enter with full knowledge of this. Basically on your own head be it :)

I now know first hand that this is the truth. We arrived at the checkpoint, but without all the required documentation. However, having my new co worker, Sveta with me, who is Ukrainian, we were able to complete the documentation there, and were allowed to proceed. They were as kind as usual, and with our safety at heart. We left them a bag of dog food as there are so many strays around the camp which the soldiers feed. 

We had several tasks to complete including delivering the humanitarian aid and dog food. We also had to deliver to a garage that repairs volunteers vehicles, some money from a third party Finish organisation. There was the usual arrhythmic percussion that is the accompaniment to daily life in Kherson, as we undertook these tasks. You hear it, but you ignore. As ever it was a real pleasure seeing Anastasiia and her community as we dropped off the aid.

Then every changed at 14:00. Our tasks completed, we were eating our picnic lunch, in a park discussing what we had done, and the journey back to Odesa. Then all hell broke loose. A barrage of shells and mortars arrived, all between 50-200 yards from us. These were whistling just above our heads. Then the awful explosions. The ground shaking. You could feel the air blast. Enveloped in dust. We threw ourselves to the ground,  using the trees for cover. About 8 shells landed in quick succession, followed by some mortars. We ran towards our vehicle. I was sure it had been hit, but fortunately not the case. A cafe where I had in the past sat and had a coffee was completely destroyed. It is pure chance that we didn't stop for a coffee there. The destruction and horror of what we saw will stay with me forever. 

The emergency services arrived practically instantly. This is also a dangerous time, as the Russians are known for doing double taps, sending more shells when emergency services have arrived. There was nothing we could do. We rapidly left the area.

There was little talk between Sveta and I on the way out of Kherson. Sveta was driving, I was dozing off occasionally in the intense heat in the car, at least 38°C. 

On the journey back to Odesa we stopped at a usual place, which I feel is a sanctuary. A church with a wonderful rose and flower garden, always well tended. With shaded areas,  I got out the thermos, biscuits and we had a break.

And we spoke. Do we ever go back? Is that it, do we find safer easier work to do? Her answer was quite unequivocal, and in the form of a question. Why wouldn't we go back? These are people who need us. Not virtual but visible.So there we are.

I realise that I can no longer do these aid runs on my own. I need someone to help with the work. Like many others here in Ukraine, here is another volunteer prepared to do what's necessary. Facing danger.

And I suppose the answer to her question is, there isn't a reason why we wouldn't go back. It's why I came here after all.

Also on a positive note, this week sees the start of another initiative, that I will initially fund myself. In conjunction with a psychiatrist and psychologist we will be running a group for internally displaced people, who have suffered trauma at the hands of Russians invaders, including women who have been abused and raped. There will be two 1.5 hour sessions a week for 10 weeks. The psychiatrist is giving her services for free, and the psychologist, who is unemployed at present, I will pay the equivalent of the minimum wage in England. We then hope to secure some ongoing funding.

Today it's back to the day job in the kitchen in Odesa with some new volunteers. Wonder if I'll ever get used to the Buddhist chanting......Also I have no idea how this place works. There's no rota, no one seems to be in charge, but there's always enough people to do the work. Strange.

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