It's Ukraine

Two days of rising tension, 2022

Feb 24, 2026

Four years ago in eastern Ukraine, shelling across the “frozen” battle line by Russian proxy-forces intensified, as hundreds of thousands of regular Russian troops waited across the border. The shelling was a provocation. The Ukrainian military held back, not even sending more troops to back up those already there. If the Ukrainians responded, Russia would have an excuse to send in the waiting army.

A not-very-clever false-flag incident occurred in occupied territory—a Russian-proxy official blew up his own car and claimed it was the Ukrainian’s doing. The Russians bombed a kindergarten in Ukrainian held-territory and blamed Ukraine for it. Russian social media misinformation went into overdrive.

Putin announced the recognition of occupied territories as independent February 21, and the next day Russian troops began moving into those territories as “peacekeepers.” Tanks began to roll across the border.

Feb 20, 2022 email to my cousin: [lightly edited excerpts]

I have friends, and family and friends of friends, in harm’s way. The first casualty - a soldier killed in the shelling a couple days ago - was the father of three. Tens of thousands of such young people are deployed on the border and potential battle zones. I suppose I should also feel concerned for the young Russian conscripts facing them. But, certainly not for the notoriously ruthless Chechen brigades just deployed or the Wagner mercenaries who are probably already in Ukraine preparing something nasty.
I continue to hope that Russia will not attack, despite all the signs to the contrary. We’ve been to what seemed like the brink several times and as threatening as he remains, he hasn’t moved an inch past the border.
In my opinion, the threat would evaporate if the west would send troops, or threaten to. It might even get Russia to move back to internationally-recognized boundaries.
Absolutely no idea what my summer plans are. Lol.
All I know is I have rented this place for 3 more weeks in Lviv. If all has blown over, I return to Kyiv. If not … no idea.
Much love,

Feb 21, 2022, letter to my children:

Hello!
I’m still in Lviv and aware that things may get serious tomorrow, or maybe not. It’s the pattern that’s been driving everyone mad for months. Who knows?
You may or may not recall that I sent myself a box of belongings that were too heavy to carry to Lviv. Now I need to deal with it again. My plan is to ship it tomorrow to [a friend in Austria]. Then, with a light load on my back I can go anywhere, any time. Budapest, Hungary is looking attractive.
I’m fairly certain Lviv will be safe for awhile, but, if tomorrow goes badly - and I can deal with my box successfully, I’ll make arrangements to get out. Even if I have to leave the box. Grr!
Love you!

Shipping that box from Kyiv to Lviv had been a triumph, the release of a burden, a neat, fast solution to a problem. Now it sat oppressively in my Lviv Airbnb, re-accumulating the burden ten-fold as it became clear I was going to leave the country and so had to deal with the box immediately or leave it there.

I also added items from my backpack, which I had overstuffed for the trip from Kyiv. So, now I had two boxes. Because it was an international shipment I had to submit a list of specific items. Personally, I am interested in such telling and evocative historical details such as a list of belongings a displaced person chooses to take with them, then choose to either ship ahead or abandon. But not everyone else enjoys this, so the list is a footnote1.

February 22 I dealt with international shipping. I Ubered to and from a store that sold cardboard boxes, and “scotch” (adhesive tape) because the shipper didn’t sell them. I packed the boxes, filled out the forms and carried them on foot to the shipping office. Once again, the feeling of relief, and sore muscles.

I described the intense, frantic and stressful 48 hours leading up to my departure from Lviv and Ukraine to my friend Jim V. Here it is, edited and with added detail.

I took what turned out to be one of the last flights out of Ukraine at 11:45 pm February 23. I made the decision and reservations - plane and accommodations - two days prior. That barely gave me enough time to get all the required documentation.

I was spurred by the events earlier in the week, particularly by the US embassy staff spending the nights in Poland, not Lviv. Also Putin’s speech announcing recognition of the occupied regions as independent

I originally wanted to cross the border into Poland by train, but could not figure out how to get tickets. The official website just wouldn’t give me that option.

I saw social media that an expat I knew had just driven into Hungary, and another expat posted about being in Budapest. I texted both of them and got advice, found a plane ticket for the following night and grabbed it. One of the expats helped me secure a room reservation at his Budapest hotel.

I had less than 48 hours to get documentation: a PCR Covid test printout and a PRINTED boarding pass. I could not enter the airport or take the flight without these, I was told.

Photo ©2022 William L. Brown, Lviv’s Halytskyi renok (market)

The PCR testing laboratory was outside of Lviv. I took an Uber. They were able to do the test soon after I arrived, but I had to pay extra to get the results in time for my flight that evening. Even so, it would take a few hours. And, the required result-printout would not be available at the lab, but from a bar, the Pravda Beer Pub in Lviv city center. Its the sort of arrangement one can only smile about and say “it’s Ukraine.”

While waiting for the test result, I packed and contacted my Lviv Airbnb landlord who could not grasp why I wanted to return the apartment key three weeks early, yet keep the 4-week reservation. The complex explanation that I was going to Budapest for a week, hoped to return to Lviv, but didn’t want to take the key because there was no certainty I’d be able to return was too difficult to translate.

“So, you check out?”

As if this this was not stressful enough, I also decided to ship my old laptop to a Ukrainian friend. I no longer needed it and I don’t want to carry the weight. It was too valuable to leave in Kyiv, so I took it to Lviv. I intended to give it to my friend when I saw her in the spring, but that was no longer an option.

This required erasing the disc and reinstalling the OS. Erasing was easy. But, after several tries (each about 30 minutes) it was clear I could not do it myself. Apple, of course, cuts no breaks to old computers, they only upload the latest OS, which was too much for my 2015 MacBook Pro. So, I had to take it to a shop. The second shop was able to do it that day, but I had to return for it later. I took the time to exchange my pile of Ukrainian cash for Hungarian currency. I’d kept a big wad of Ukrainian money at hand in case the banks were rendered inoperable. I went to three Bureau de Changes but nobody had Hungarian money. I gave up, and returned to the repair shop, thinking I’d exchange the cash when I got to Budapest. I SHOULD have exchanged for Euros, I didn’t know Hungarian exchange markets don’t buy hryvnia

The repair shop charged about $10 for the fix. Yup, that’s right, and for same-day service. It’s Ukraine. I then took the laptop to Nova Poshta (private mail company) to pack it up and mail. They have, it turns out, strict regulations about shipping laptops. I had to affirm it was operational, turn it on for them, and give them all the details such as serial number. I was glad to be relieved of the weight, it was worth the time, which was getting short.

Photo ©2022 William L. Brown

That’s when I tried to do an online check-in on my Ryanair ticket. After I filled in my name, the form requested “nationality,” which had to be filled in before I could progress.I could not key it in, I had to choose from a list, a long list of every country, organized by EU and non-EU catagories. United States was not an option. A note referred me to the call center. I searched, but there is no call center in Ukraine. I tried the chat assistance. I got a robot which gave me lengthy but useless answers based on a key word I’d used. Finally it offered me a chance to chat with a human. The human told me to open the website using a combination of key-strokes. “I’m using the phone app” I said.

They said I had to use a laptop. So I got out my laptop. Same problem. The human told me to open a window in stealth-mode. I did and found “American” listed this time, and was able to finish check-in, whereas I read, that I must download and PRINT my boarding card or I would not be allowed past the gate. It was about 5:45 pm the evening of the flight. Of course, I have no printer. Hardly anyone owns a printer in UA. Probably about the same number who own laundry driers.

I found a print shop using google search, it was in the opposite direction of the Pravda Beer Bar, where my test result would be available at 6. but walkable. In the rain.

At the Pravda Beer Bar they had no idea what I was talking about. “Result?” Finally one of the staff, standing in front of a white canvas screen said “go out the front door, turn left and you will see the sign for Unilab. I exited and looked left, there was a door with a small Unilab sign on it, and a woman wearing a green medical smock huddled in a tiny space big enough for a chair, table, and printer. Touching her back was the other side of the white canvas screen. So, she was actually in the bar space, but with her own little door and a screen separating her from the bar room. The staff member who gave me directions had been standing directly behind her. It’s Ukraine.

So, now I had to pack, and the landlady’s maid was coming to collect the key at 7:30 pm, When I asked her to come at 8:30 the landlady seemed to have a problem with it, so, I agreed to 7:30. I figured I wouldn’t mind sitting at the airport for another hour. I finished packing, cleaning, preparing a sandwich to take, making a pile of food to give to the maid so it wouldn’t go bad (I was still thinking I’d be back in a week). The maid showed up at 8:00 and we had a long conversation, using Google translate to exchange statements and questions/answers. I disabused her of the idea that I was checking out for good or that I wanted a refund.

When she understood I was leaving because I believed invasion was imminent she was dismayed. She asked if I really thought it would happen. I told her I was not certain, that I had no secret knowledge, but the situation was bad. She shed a tear.

I told her I’d pay for the four weeks, regardless, hoping to return. But, I said, if Lviv became full of refugees in the next few weeks please use the apartment. Apparently, she did, as the Airbnb review she gave me says:

Unfortunately, he could not stay with us for the full duration of the reservation, but he helped other people to live in the apartment that he booked for himself.
Thank you very much!

Generosity is contagious.

As for handing over the key, she said I could leave when I was ready, and put the key in the “secret place” - a prominent utility panel just outside the door, the first place I’d look if I were a burglar. She would collect it in the morning.

She left, I did a final look-round, then called Uber. The Uber-app told me my bank card had insufficient funds. I looked up the card on my bank-app, and it had plenty of funds. I found a work-around using Applepay, and ordered the Uber, The 2 minute wait time evaporated, was replaced by “looking for driver” and said it found one with a 10 minute wait. Of course. It was getting a bit last-minute-y for my liking.

The Uber came, the timing was tight but not too tight. All was well until I got to the airport where the Ryanair desk person told me I could take both my bags on board. I said, “no, I paid extra to check the bag.” They said no, a priority ticket didn’t pay for checking a bag, it paid for carrying two bags onto the plane. I said I was carrying scissors and containers with liquids that wouldn’t pass the screening. They sent me to the main desk at the other side of the airport to pay an extra 35 EUR for checking luggage. I was livid. I was already paying the premium of around 120 EUR - base price was around 50 EUR. With Ryan you pay for every extra such as a carry-on bag, or drink of water. Then mid-flight, the prettiest flight attendant announces the sale of “charity sticker packs for our children’s charity partners. Buy three for the price of two! For the children!”

I will never set foot on a Ryanair flight again!

By the way, I did not need either my printed boarding pass or my Covid test printout.

The laptop was due to be delivered February 24 to Dnipro, the day of the full scale invasion when rockets and missiles fell on on major cities. I figured it would be lost in the chaos, probably plundered. No, it was delivered on time in perfect condition. Its Ukraine.

Native Cpeaker

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