FROM THE ENROLLED TO DNIPRO. Hours and hoursand before, one afterother imperceptible signals all led in the same direction, but were stubbornly ignored by rationality. The silence of the birds, the still air, the almost total silence that enveloped Dnipro, the third most populous city in Ukraine, in “normal” times an important metallurgical center and lively river port. Yesterday everything was as if emptied of life, illuminated by an almost spring sun which accentuated even more the sense ofregretful.
Cars disappeared from the streets, few people around, their faces tense. Only in the morning, a few hours earlier, it was impossible to find a free parking space, the old Žiguli darted across the bridges spitting out black clouds, groups of men were waiting for coffee at the kiosk, gesturing with a cigarette between their fingers. And today the phrase of the young pastry chef Katerina, who described the air of Dnipro as “the calm before the storm”, resounds prophetically.
Qhen the first bombings began to resonate like a distant storm that is getting closer and closer, when it was still night outside, when no one really believed it would happen, those still left in the city went to hide in the cellars, away from the windows at least, near the load-bearing walls. Once again in absolute silence. Don’t panic, no screams, no scrambled movements, just a series of quick actions by someone who has long since learned what to do. The signal, hours later, that everything was over, was given again by the birds, who at 9 in the morning, as if freed, ripmade to sing furious.
Every Dnipro resident knows where the nearest refuge is. Ours is a cellar, bunker, laundry, storage in the belly of a small bed & breakfast near the hospital. There is everything you need: solid walls, electricity, a comfortable white leather sofa, water, a coffee machine, a microwave oven, even some mountain landscape hanging on the walls to give some joy. . Before the bombings, the owner of the “family hotel” all synthetic fur and lace, had done nothing but glare at anyone who passed her. Now she seems transfigured: she continues to make coffee, open packets of biscuits, offer toast and sandwiches, hug everyone she crosses. Bunker empathy is a profound phenomenon and wins every distance.
The next morning in Dnipro even fewer people are seen, and those who do see have a suitcase in their hand, small, easy to carry. The others are already in columns at the exit of the city towards the West, they want to put as much distance as possible between them and the Russians who are advancing. They leave from Dnipro, as from all cities along the «contact line», while to those who remain the news shows endless lines of cars, minivans, trucks full of people, children, bags and looks full of fear and resignation together. Behind the fogged glass of a small bus window, a cat’s head pokes out of a man’s jacket. In the evening, the first 4,000 refugees will have arrived in Moldova, while in Poland they are preparing to welcome those on the way.
But leaving is risky, who knows if on the road you will not pass by chance in front of a “target” that will be blown up, if the car does not break down in the middle of nowhere, a nothing in which you certainly cannot call for help . Most importantly, how are you going to get petrol if all the filling pumps are out of stock and Ukraine is big, the second largest state in Europe, and the roads are unexpected.
For those who stay in Dnipro the next day is the longest: it is the uncertainty of not knowing cwhat will happen, to see a military plan unfold under one’s eyes, minute by minute, that defies any logic, even to those who should be experts in the logic of warfare. Here one plus one does not equate to two. Yet there must be logic, and understanding it means making the right choices, even when the dilemma is to stay or flee. To tame anxiety, the only thing is to disassemble and reassemble the pieces of the puzzle. While the news of the attacks affirm and deny, chase each other and contradict each other at every screen and every call, water supplies are exhausted everywhere, ATMs no longer give cash, every noise, even an awkwardly moved chair, makes you jump. In the evening the latest version is consolidated, the Russian ground troops would be marching towards Dnipro. The images coming from Kiev show all the drama Ukrainians are experiencing. Long columns of cars, in fact stationary, all lined up in an attempt to get out of the city and seek a safe haven fearing the arrival of the army or bombs, are a photocopy of what is happening in Dnpr, and in dozens of other cities , a motionless escape that resembles each other everywhere.
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