In war there are also traffic jams. At a certain distance, nothing distinguishes them from the caravans of Sunday people who return home after spending the weekend with the family on the beach or in the countryside. But it is enough to get a little closer to observe the faces through the blurred glass with the drawing of the reflected clouds. The traffic jams this Sunday in the surroundings of Irpin, about 20 kilometers northwest of Kiev, are not of people returning but fleeing. More than a week of fighting and the blockade of other communication routes crowds all those who want to leave the city on the same road, the P04.
On their way, they cross the only bridge that allows them to get away from their city by road and which is in the town of Stoyanka. There, on the slope overlooking the Irpin riverbed, a tributary of the Dnieper, a military checkpoint with two battle tanks, a command post and dug trenches, serves to control what happens on the bridge from a distance. Refugees looking for a safer place do not know that the road holds a surprise. One of the soldiers explains to EL PAÍS that they have already attached the necessary explosive charges to the pillars to blow up the bridge at the moment they see the Russian Army approaching. Meanwhile, they hurry up the time so that the more cars pass, the better.
Surprising, however, the tremendous order with which, like a processionary, those neighbors keep the line. There is no sound of a horn, no acceleration, no shout of anger, no nervous breakdown that we are so used to witnessing at any traffic light in our daily environment. No one plays tricks to get into the traffic jams that occur in front of the controls that dot the road. And that the detonations and the columns of black smoke that are heard and seen as one approaches Irpin would make anyone leave in terror. But those long, serious faces, in keeping with the drama that is passing over them like a trailer, are accompanied by an astonishing dignity of those who have no choice but to leave their home behind.
Constantine, 62 years old, endures like the other stoic breaks. At 85, his mother, Regina, smiles from the passenger seat. They both go aimlessly in their car, they only know that they want to shoot towards the western part of Ukraine, the furthest from the war. “We have heard many bombs (…). Not in our patio, but right next to it, there were some wounded and all that, that’s why we decided to take refuge with mom”, explains this Ukrainian tourist agent who lived in Malaga and Barcelona and who proudly displays his good level of Spanish.
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The blowing up of the bridge that both have to cross will be carried out as was done at the beginning of the war with the other bridge that gives access to Irpin. That is much closer to the town. Thousands of neighbors escape these days on its rubble. They do it on foot because it is impossible to travel through the place by vehicle. It is on this exodus of refugees that several mortar missiles fell on Sunday morning, killing at least three people, as confirmed by several reporters who were on the ground.
Approaching Irpin in the opposite direction of the caravan of cars allows us to verify that there are fewer and fewer people living in the area. A lone dog jumps on the shoulder as one of the shots is heard. A man carries firewood in a cart. At the last roadblock, far from the traffic jams, several militiamen warn that only three or four kilometers away are the first positions of the Russian Army, which have occupied those that until recently were dominated by the Ukrainians.
A kilometer beyond the checkpoint, the West Gate Logistics shopping area has been burning since it was bombed three days ago, according to one of the residents. A dense cloud of smoke envelops the scene between the firecrackers that come out of the burning facilities. The place, which houses several companies, is surrounded by unpaved streets with low houses where you can hardly see a couple of inhabitants. As in a movie scene, he appears smiling and waving with his 21-year-old Spanish rag Erik. He rides his bike carrying a couple of plastic bags with food that he is going to distribute to several neighbors. He affirms that there are no troops in the place, that he is going to continue living in the middle of that ghostly environment with his father. But just at the moment when he says, crowned by the black column in the sky, that it is a quiet place, a jolt tries to take away his reason. He insists with a smile: “Don’t worry!”
Nearby, between paths with little houses and chalets, several birds walk on a half-frozen lake. Colorful swings dot the shore of this beautiful and quiet corner of the outskirts of Kiev. Two militiamen patrol on an off-road motorcycle ATV, but there is no trace of Russian soldiers. Turning one of the corners, however, an older woman appears crying who can’t take it anymore. She explains that she has been listening to the bombings for 11 days sheltered underground. She has decided to leave and advances on foot towards the road, the one that leads to the traffic jams and the bridge that they are going to blow up.
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