Back to Odessa

The bus drives through large puddles of water. Rain falls from the sky. It drives towards my hometown. I can still hear her voice in my head, a voice that crackles a little, but otherwise neatly conceals all emotion. I turn on the sound of my earbuds, louder, it doesn’t help, I turn it off, pause.

“I’ve got to tell you something. I’ll be away for two weeks.” I looked at Lena as she sits here for her weekly extra language lessons. She’s from Ukraine and want to become a famous filmmaker, like Eisenstein. But in the daily lessons, she still suffers with the language.

“Me and my mother have to go back to Odessa.”
“Why?”
“Because of papers, for our house and my school.”
“Can’t they do it online?”

She shakes off, not. Silence.

“I hope you will be safe and will be safe back.”
She nods. A somewhat awkward silence falls down.
“You’ll see your family back?”

I try to comfort her. She lets a small smile escape.

She is going to a dangerous area, by bus 48 hours away, she said. Also for her school there, as she combines school here with that in Ukraine. For when she goes back, she doesn’t want to lose time and wants also a degree in her country. Lena takes classes online since the war started, sometimes she even has exams at the same time as us and combines them. These are periods when you notice she is on the verge of a breakdown.

She has a pale face, large eyes and a hidden smile. I knew her for some weeks now. Helping her out with translations. We follow the same creative writing classes.

I didn’t question further. I continued to give some more language tips and asked if she is going to keep a diary. She immediately said: “yes, I already do”. I gave her an encouraging pat on the back. Like old friends do.

“And send me some photos with the point of view from your house to the sea,” she told me that their flat has a balcony overlooking the Black Sea, “and from the Potemkin stairs.” Yes, she was definitely going to do that.

“Only when it is safe outside.” I emphasize to her.

That port is very important, both for Ukraine and Russia, and the rest of the world. The rain keeps pouring down. I have to be careful not to lose control. There is a war nearby and far away in the world and here there is flooding, a consequence of our industrialized society, just like the power and greed of so-called leaders that causes the rest of this misery.

I wave the thoughts away and turn on the volume of the music.