The life of Ukrainian refugees continues in Moldova. A report from a hostel in Chisinau | Moldova | DW
There are not many free rooms in the capital of the Republic of Moldova, the country with the largest number of Ukrainian refugees in terms of population. In the second weekend since the start of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the demographic situation on the streets of Chisinau and in terms of accommodation possibilities has changed. Living in a hostel without teenagers or young people in their 20s and a few years is a strange experience.
At Hostel City Center, the day normally starts at around 7 am. Older women arrive first for breakfast. The light is dim, the silence oppressive. All you hear is the noise of opening and closing plastic bags. Ukrainian women don’t eat much anyway. The circles around their eyes deepen with each passing day.
After about an hour, around 8 o’clock, the 30 and 40 year old women arrive. They turn on the light and start talking, checking their cell phones, and eating carrots with bread, as well as cheese and potatoes. They are dressed in pajamas or homemade clothes. Some wear masks – often for the eyes.
Half an hour later, the children wake up and the fun begins. Some sit next to their parents to watch TV series on their cell phones. Others play ball. After running through the corridors in the evening making an infernal noise, now they are mostly sitting at the table or playing quietly. Or they go to the “Cat Cafe” to play with the ten cats there – doing some sort of pet therapy.
“In the Republic of Moldova, one in eight children is a refugee,” said Dorin Frasineanu, the Moldovan prime minister’s foreign policy adviser.
Around 9, groups of boys and girls, accompanied by an adult, usually a man in his 30s, leave the hostel and continue their journey. Only two hours away is the war.
Not everyone feels safe in the Republic of Moldova. The country is neither a member of NATO nor of the EU. Women say they would go to Romania – to stay as close as possible to their husbands.
Ukrainian men
There are a few men here, too. Those of Azerbaijani and Turkish ethnicity are in a group. Ukrainians are generally only among themselves and go with their heads bowed.
I share the room with a sailor from Odessa, who is going to look for work in Germany or Turkey. He tells me he paid for his escape. His whole family is still in the city made famous by Sergei Eisenstein’s 1935 film “The Potemkin Cruiser.”
He tells us about this “historic city, a beauty”, a crucible of different ethnicities: Chinese, Indians, South Koreans, Azeris, Sinti and Roma.
He feels guilty for not supporting the resistance movement. Whenever we talk about the resistance of the Ukrainians, there are tears in their eyes.
A man with an Israeli passport sleeps in the bed under the sailor’s bed. He is about to leave the country. I only saw him leave the room twice in three days. Once to go to the bathroom. Second time for breakfast: eggs and toast. When I ask him if he needs anything from the supermarket, I answer that I already have everything he needs. He is busy with his mobile phone, he received the card for free in Moldova. Do not do anything else.
The value of refugees in Chisinau is expected to rise in the coming days – unless the two sides reach an agreement.
Chisinau and Odessa
Odessa and Chisinau are cities with deep historical laws. Many Moldovans spend their holidays on the Black Sea in Ukraine. Sometimes I cross the border shopping. Ukrainians buy Moldovan wine. They also appreciate local food.
The two cities are less than two hours away – in normal times. He’s been queuing at the border for at least a few hours now. If at the beginning of the conflict people arrived with expensive cars, now less wealthy people cross the border. Volunteers say they end up as refugees without shoes, simply in slippers.
Many Moldovans live in the port city of Odessa. Some have brought their families to safety and are supporting the Ukrainian resistance, helping to evacuate civilians and prepare for war. I met a Moldovan man, born in Chisinau, ready to fight for Odessa. “I’m home here. It’s wonderful,” he explains.
The local population and the fact that the battle for Odessa is at the same time a battle for Moldova, a neutral country. The local army has between 5,000 and 7,500 soldiers. The locals believe that in case of a Russian attack, the administration will capitulate in a few hours. More than 5,000 Russian soldiers are in the separatist region of Transnistria.
“I tell my friends that if the Russians come, everything will go quickly. I could almost go to bed Moldovan and wake up Russian,” says Marti, a boy with dual nationality: Moldovan and Estonian. “I can escape, but many will not be able to.”
Over the weekend, 20-year-olds with oxygenated or blue hair, tattoos and piercings arrive in Chisinau. Final destination: German capital, Berlin. They make jokes, laugh and check their cell phones. Although he tries to keep his spirits up, his eyes betray him.
Moldovan Labor Minister Marcel Spatari posted on Facebook that three-quarters of refugees are being taken over by families or organizations, while only a quarter end up in emergency shelters.
In the hostel life goes on
In the meantime, he goes on to the hostel, as if nothing had happened. There are no windows. Time seemed to freeze. The children continue to have fun. One is running around wearing adult slippers instead of gloves.
The receptionist scolds two naughty children, who are shaking one of the cats, angrily in Russian.
The attempt to maintain an apparent normalcy is obvious. It’s not easy. It’s an effort. A mother eats quinoa salad with her son. The mother asks the boy to eat quietly. The boy nods, but continues as before. The woman doesn’t even seem to notice.