Posts Tagged 'IDPs'

Ground minus one

“It’s dreary,” says Nadia from the House of Culture, when I ask her how Stanitsya Luhanska in east Ukraine has been changed by the war. “At night there are no lights in the buildings, because everyone has left. It’s dark in the streets at night and no one goes out.”

Nadia’s husband died when their block of flats was shelled in 2014, killing ten people. When I tell her my name she says “The head of the House of Culture was called Lilya. She was killed in 2014 as well.”

She shows us the empty auditorium, where rows of wooden seats face a stage piled with the flags of four hundred countries. The roof is damaged from shelling. When too many supposed residents are stranded in the town after failing to finish their ‘identification’ process, two hundred or five hundred people sleep overnight in these hard wooden seats, facing an empty stage piled with the flags of other, better countries they’ll never visit.

Stanitsya Luhanska is a ghost town. Officially there are ten thousand new residents here since 2014. Only a thousand of them actually live in Stanitsya Luhanska, together with nine thousand phantoms. That’s nine thousand fake Internally Displaced People (IDPs), the vast majority elderly people from over the line of contact in non-government controlled Luhansk, who must register and present themselves in person for ‘identification’ every three months to continue getting their pensions.

An average 9000 people daily cross the line of contact in Stanitsya Luhanska, over the pedestrian-only crossing of a broken bridge and barbed-wire fences and UNHCR tarpaulins and inadequate passport booths – infrastructure, says a Ukrainian border guard optimistically, for 5,500 people daily.

“Why can’t you improve the infrastructure?” I asked him. “Because it’s temporary,” he replied. “We hope.” He means he hopes the situation of half of Luhansk region being out of government control, and needing a border crossing, is temporary. Stanitsya Luhanska has been the only official crossing point between government controlled and non-government controlled Luhansk region since 2014.

A hundred kilometres away in Zolote there’s a ghost border-crossing. It doesn’t look temporary. It has neat rows of brand-new passport booths, a smart covered walkway for pedestrians, high painted fences, lanes for road traffic, and bored, friendly-ish Ukrainian border guards with handsome sniffer dogs. This new crossing point goes nowhere but two small settlements, Zolote 4 and Yekaterinivka, which are under Ukrainian control but lie beyond the Ukrainian crossing point and ground zero of the Ukrainian army frontline. A few hundred people live there in what must presumably be ground minus one, surrounded by landmines, with shells falling on their heads every night from the ground zero of both sides.

The opening of the Zolote crossing point has been unsuccesfully ‘under negotiation’ with non-government controlled Luhansk since spring 2016. “We dread the word ‘opening’. Every time they talk about it, the shelling gets worse,” says Alina, the head of Zolote 4 school. Most of the shelling is at night, and she and her 48 pupils and everyone else in Zolote has not slept for the past week; there has been discussion of opening the crossing among officials in faraway capitals. “For us,” Alina says, “the word ‘opening’ is like terror.”

zolote cemetery.sm

Zolote 4 coalmine – the reason for the settlement’s existence – closed before the war and is now occupied by the Ukrainian army. There are working mines of a different kind littering the fields and even the cemeteries round about. Life  is cheap in east Ukraine. Beyond the red danger signs around the cemeteries are freshly-dug graves, beautifully tidied graves, graves decorated with bright new plastic flowers. Life is cheap, but the dead still get looked after despite the unexploded gifts of war.

Zolote means ‘golden’. When the shelling and the shooting stops, Zolote 4 is the quietest place in the world. No cars coming through the border to nowhere. No cows or goats or children roaming the mined fields. No working industry. A solitary chicken clucks softly, peacefully. It’s strangely warm for December; the low winter sun lights this open, abused landscape a muted pinkish gold. It shines off the gravestones in the cemetery, and they flash and twinkle like sunlit windows, as if you could open them and climb through to a better, undiscovered country.

zolote landscape.sm

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West Ukraine’s Banderstadt shelters East Ukraine’s refugees

It is hard to find much that is positive in current Ukraine events. But in this story I wrote, an NGO in Ivano-Frankivsk is setting a fantastic example of crisis management and cross-sectoral cooperation to provide accommodation and services for a flood of refugees. And I do like the irony of housing east Ukrainians fleeing ‘banderites’ in a hotel called ‘banderstadt’.

Stepan Bandera graffiti, Ivano-Frankivsk

Stepan Bandera graffiti, Ivano-Frankivsk

 


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