Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1526409
14 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 8 SEPTEMBER 2024 DIARY OF A VOLUNTEER Monday 17 June, 2024 IT'S another early start if we're to get back to Kyiv before our first meeting. We leave the hotel at 4am, around an hour before curfew lifts, but we're in a MOAS vehicle and don't hit the first checkpoint until 5am, so there seems to be no issue. This time I'm with our driver Sasha, whose English is less good, but who is driving at a good pace, clearly attempting to make up time. Yesterday, he told his story to our Ukrainian colleague, and she relayed it to us at the base. Sasha is from a town just outside Kyiv. At the start of the war it was occupied by the Russians, forcing thousands to flee. Thousands still were trapped in the village, refusing to accept Russian documents, and unable to move freely. The stories he told of the abuse suffered by those left behind at the hands of the occupiers is devastating and I don't feel it necessary to repeat them. We've all read enough articles about the atrocities of war to understand the kind of degrading, traumatic, violent and sadistic actions seen during those long weeks. He recounted how the village was al- so cut off from the outside, situated in a small valley, the residents were unable to access any food or provisions, and military vehicles passing by the village on the main road above would unload any remaining ammunition into the town on their way back from a mission, indiscriminately tar- geting anyone or any livestock in sight. Sasha and some other men from the vil- lage who had escaped before the occupa- tion took it upon themselves to smuggle food to those inside using underground sewage systems and drains, risking their lives, but saving many. The village is no longer occupied, but the trauma of that time is embedded into the community. We arrive back in Kyiv at around 9:15am and I meet my colleagues for our last walk in the city. It feels very strange to be am- bling through the cobbled streets, past historic buildings, just hours after leaving the heart of this nations fight for its inde- pendence. But I'm tired, and grateful for all the experiences available to me, so I de- cide to give in to the summer day, follow- ing colleagues around the market, posing with them for photos at panoramic view- points and visiting the historic Golden Gate. The roadside stalls where we mull over small trinkets to take back for family are stocked with a bizarre mix of touristy knick-knacks and dark war memorabilia. As we leave the hotel for the last time, I embrace the team we're leaving behind, full of gratitude and awe, and we head to the station to begin the long journey home. On the train, we toast to our col- leagues and one another before collapsing on our bunks to nap before the passport checks at the border crossing. Tuesday 18 June and Wednesday 19 June, 2024 It's early morning and we've arrived in Chelm. It's time to change trains and head to Warsaw. No one is chatty at this point, so we read and watch our programmes and listen to podcasts until Warsaw is an- nounced as the next stop. By the time we arrive I'm dead on my feet. It's been days since I've slept and, although I'm aware of the privilege of my position as compared to those we've left behind, I simply cannot fight the fatigue. I'm excited to get home now, and the journey back is blissfully uneventful. When I arrive in Malta I am greeted by On the front line of war Maltese mother-of-two Christina Lejman works with local humanitarian voluntary organisation MOAS. In June, their HQ team travelled to Ukraine to visit their projects on the front line of the war, where 150 medics and drivers undertake critical care evacuations, saving lives on a daily basis. This is part six of a six-part series recounting her experiences. Part 6: A homecoming The intense beauty of the Ukrainian countryside, in stark contrast to the ongoing violence