Well, I was wanting to write again about life in Uzhhorod. Between applying for postdocs, work, other demands of life, it has been difficult to find time to write, despite many ideas percolating in my head.
Then when I started writing on the morning of Monday the 26th of August, there was, once again, what some are calling “the largest attack on Ukraine”, and one missile was downed on the border of Lviv and Zakarpattia oblast, a block of flats were hit in Lutsk, Kyiv bombarded again, and more. It may also appear a second missile came to Zakarpattia, and some remains of a rocket were found in a forest.
It has been surprisingly calm regarding air strikes for a little while until this week. Not for all of Ukraine, of course, but for Kyiv, the west, etc. I hadn’t heard a siren here all week, which usually goes off when Kinzhal missiles are launched or MiGs take off, as it is hard to determine where they will go.
This calmness in Uzhhorod makes the realities of war hit harder. Whether it’s the funeral procession of cars, which go right past our flat, the news of a death, a missile even going anywhere near Zakarpattia (or just over it to attempt to confuse air defence as it has done), it evokes a stronger sense of sadness.
On a personal level, one particular incident was the other evening with a drunk or drugged up or maybe just mentally unwell soldier or veteran, who was confrontational with anyone over nothing. The looming mental health crisis of those who fought will be huge and require a lot of work for Ukraine and a change in the approach of the government clinics who still have a very soviet mindset. Speaking of which…
The largest, most impactful aspect has been the recruitment. Before the new mobilisation law, the recruitment guys (ТЦК – pronounced t-s-ka) were determined to hit some target. While tik toks and telegram videos would make it out that they were waiting on every corner about to grab every man, and this was not true, it was definitely sizeable and many men were apprehensive to go outside unless they were exempt. For myself, I was only asked twice, both by the same woman at the train station for my document.
While the visible presence of the ТЦК has decreased, three people I know have been taken (though one may not go due to health). While on the practical side, I do believe that recruitment via conscription is, unfortunately, a necessity of war, I do have serious questions about how it is done, why the age is so high, and that they seemingly incentivise the recruiters with targets. Also the recruiters seem to be the worst people in their attitude, with big middle management vibes, lauding their power over others. I don’t think that is exclusive to Ukraine. The process of the recruitment also raises a lot of questions, but that is a topic for another day.
While often criticism of the recruitment process has been met with scepticism and accusations of being anti-Ukraine from foreigners, the reality is, most Ukrainians hate these guys, even other soldiers (I saw a patch saying “I am not in the ТЦК, I earned this uniform with blood”). But they are generally quite unpleasant and the process is painfully soviet and outdated. It is corrupted with the focus on statistics and targets, which leads to quantity not quality of recruits.
Conscription is, essentially, an act of political violence, of course. Where do we, in a modern society, make space for such an act is a huge question. However, even if we accept it, I do believe it can be better implemented. The poorness of implementation shows that while Ukraine has been incredibly resourceful and modern in some areas, it still lags in others.
The impact on life is that many men hesitate to go out too publicly or alone, especially or to certain places where recruiters can hang around. Some go out only at night, some don’t really go out at all, others change jobs to get a “booking” from the army, and some train and initiate their own employment in the army to get a greater say in where they can go. And yes, some do find ways to escape of course, like in any war.
The general mood of life has been interesting. The headier patriotism of 2022 has plateaued. The morale really sunk for a period when the aid wasn’t coming, and had slowly risen after, and then had an uptick when the Kursk operation started. The war isn’t ending soon, and people just continue to lie with it, with peaks of anger or sadness or patriotic fervour, sometimes all in one day.
War is still normalised. Some Uzhhorod people you’d think couldn’t care, and you’ll hear rants about the ТЦК or the government, but then almost immediately followed by a donation to the army, to get a drone for a friend, some helmets, to feed some cats and dogs on the frontline, and that, has not gone anywhere, nor will it. When the war is personal, when it’s your friends and family who fight, who get bombed, killed, and whatever else, it is a necessity.
Alongside these anxieties there are concerts almost every week in Uzhhorod, always fundraising for the army. Uzhhorod is, despite a sizeable artistic and musical youth and “alternative” social group, quite conservative and despite the fact that it is the only city without a local curfew, they are still quite strict on late night operations of business and noise and this can get events in trouble, despite raising funds. The lack of curfew is something I’d personally capitalise on, but the logic is “it is offensive to celebrate when we’re fighting”. I actually disagree, and think what the fuck are you fighting for (and somehow celebrating before 10/11pm is fine BUT AFTER is somehow unacceptable).
I am sounding pessimistic, probably because of the missile attacks this week, and it is not my intention. In fact, I wanted to laud the fact that Uzhhorod has this lively social scene for the summer, with fundraising and activities for people to take their mind off the war.The music can be anything from house, trance, drum and bass, to heavy rock, punk, shoegaze and whatever else. Decisively modern, clearly has an audience (Even when I don’t like it at all), and offers something valuable. The weird dissonance of war and life which I have continued to notice since arriving back in Ukraine in 2022 continues and it still is a fascinating thing to experience.
You can still live a free and safe life here without the anxieties most of Ukraine has. The summer has brought a pretty unbearable secession of heat waves, and the river is low. But life isn’t what it was a year ago, and it won’t be again in a year. I don’t think life will ever be fully normal again in Ukraine, or at least not as it was before the war, but it will continue. Beautiful, chaotic, and free.
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