Reykjavík Grapevine - apr. 2022, Blaðsíða 10

10 The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 04— 2022
ble. They were shocked and scared. It
turned out later that they only brought
national IDs with them and forgot the
passports.
“When they were in Poland, Wizz
Air denied them boarding without
passports,” she recounts. “They went
to the Ukrainian embassy the next day,
got an extra identification document,
but were denied boarding again. Wizz
Air requires a biometric passport even
from families with one-month-old chil-
dren. On the third try, my parents got
lucky as they met someone who called
Polish authorities and influenced Wizz
Air's decision, so they finally got on the
plane. But I heard that 16 Ukrainians
were denied boarding because of the
same issue that day.”
NEW BEGINNINGS IN
ICELAND
As of March 23rd, 377 Ukrainian refu-
gees had arrived in Iceland. According
to forecasts of the Ministry of Justice,
up to 2,000 refugees could apply for
international protection in Iceland,
which would allow them to reside, work
and access benefits in Iceland for up to
one year.
None of the women I spoke with
wanted to leave Ukraine. It was a last
resort, a desire to take their kids as far
from war as possible.
“We are really grateful to the Icelan-
dic government and volunteers,” Olena
emphasises. “The immigration depart-
ment has provided us with free accom-
modation at a hotel. We receive three
meals a day, volunteers provide us with
medicine, and bring toys and clothes
for our kids. There are so many volun-
teer organisations involved, people who
aren’t indifferent.”
“My kids were absolutely shocked,”
Olena continues. “They were not ready
for this war. We haven’t discussed such
things with them. We weren’t ready
either. It’s easier for the younger kid
as he doesn’t really understand much.
His mom is with him, so that’s the
most important thing. But my older
one understands a lot, he watches the
news and roots for our president and
the Ukrainian army. Of course, we want
to go home as soon as possible, we miss
our city, our house, friends, relatives…
but we are happy to be safe and together
here.”
After a few really hard weeks,
Nataliia jokes that her stay in Iceland
feels like a vacation now.
“For the first few days, we stayed
with a family of one of my husband’s
colleagues,” she says. “They’ve treated
us with sympathy and have been very
helpful. We receive a lot of attention,
people invite us over so that my son
could also play with other kids. He has
made some Icelandic friends already.”
Unlike others, Olga didn’t have rela-
tives or colleagues in Iceland. She came
here as a tourist a few times and felt
good from the very beginning.
“Iceland is a place of unconditional
happiness,” Olga says. “I like Icelandic
culture, Icelandic people, I’ve recently
started to learn the language. I knew
that if I were to leave Ukraine, that it
would be for Iceland.”
When Olga made the decision to
flee from Kharkiv, taking an evacuation
train to Lviv and then a bus to Warsaw,
she was preparing her son for a new,
different life.
“I told my son that our lives would
change,” she says. “Now we’re refugees.
But so far, we have received a heart-
felt welcome and unmatched support
anywhere we would go.”
Unable to find housing on the night
they arrived, Olga and her son ended up
spending the night at the Minister of
Justice’s house. “Iceland really does a lot
for those arriving here,” assures Olga.

THINGS NEED TO CHANGE
The war in Ukraine began in 2014, when
Russia annexed Crimea and invaded the
Donetsk and Luhansk regions. During
this period of time, Nataliia lived in
a city just 100 km from the occupied
areas.
“It all started eight years ago,” she
shares. “We’ve welcomed so many refu-
gees back then, helping them in every
possible way. There had been many
young mothers among them and it was
especially traumatic for me as I was
a new mom too. I felt really sorry for
them. And now…everyone heard this
news, and the kids, too. I saw my son
playing ‘war’ with other kids. Once my
son told me ‘I’m scared to go to school,
because it’s just 20 km from Russia’.
On days when we were told an attack
is possible, I didn’t drive him to school.
How can I bring my child to school,
when there’s a threat of Russia starting
a war?”
Nataliia hopes that the world will
realise that the problem is not only with
Putin.
“The problem lies deep in Russia
and its society,” Nataliia says. “What
we see now, is, in fact, the fascism
and Nazism that they accuse us of.
My family has relatives in Russia and
in Crimea, and every time we talk to
them, they just repeat the propaganda
broadcasted on their television. They
tell us that we deserve all of this. They
tell us that they couldn’t force us in
any other way. They tell us that no one
needs us in Europe. They tell us that it
is all the USA’s fault. They tell us that
the only reason why our children, our
women are now being killed is the fact
that we resist. If we didn’t resist, and
they managed to conquer Kyiv as they
planned, everything would be differ-
ent. It’s victim-blaming coming from
an entire country.”
Olga has experienced a similar reac-
tion from her family in Russia.
“I also have absolutely irrational
relatives and friends in Russia, who
are completely brainwashed by Putin’s
propaganda,” Olga agrees. “They’re
trying to assure us that it’s the Ukrai-
nian army that bombs civilians, or that
it’s the mythical nationalists bomb-
ing us. This war is the cruellest lesson
possible, but it will make us stronger.”
Olena concludes the interview with
a message for other European powers.
“I want to say that every world leader
and every citizen of any European coun-
try, including Iceland, has to understand
that Ukraine and Ukrainians not only
stand for their own country today,” she
says. “They stand for the sake of secu-
rity everywhere in Europe and probably
everywhere in the world. Our lives will
never be the same as they were before
February 24th.”
“How can I bring my child to school, when there’s a threat of Russia starting a war?”
Part 2: Choosing The Less Worst Thing
Óskar Hallgrímsson on life in Kyiv
Words: Andie Sophia Fontaine Photos: Óskar Hallgrímsson