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For Moldova it is time of war and fear again – Emanuela Iurkin

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For Moldova it is time of war and fear again – Emanuela Iurkin

01 August 2022 09:57

The first day of the war I felt only horror, disbelief and indignation. The words were over. It was as if a rocket had hit my tongue and shattered every single word. We were told a terrible scenario, but what happened on February 24, when Russia invaded Ukraine, was worse. Then I finally opened my mouth to speak, and I cursed. Soon, silent prayers took the place of cursing.

I doubt that in Chișinău, the capital of Moldova, the most fervent supporters of the Russian federation expected what happened. On the evening of February 23, they celebrated the day of the defenders of the fatherland when in Russia and other post-Soviet countries, the first recruitment of the Red Army is commemorated in 1918. Then on February 24 they celebrated the war by drinking vodka and flaunting the letter. Z, designed on Russian military vehicles and became the symbol of support for the invasion. Others seemed discouraged, sad, worried.

Ours is a people who believe in utopia. We see things differently, our commitments are approximate and firm, and our anger simmers. While the increase in poverty only makes the situation worse.

With the suitcases ready
Most of the Ukrainian refugees crossed Moldova to go elsewhere, but some remained. As a percentage of the population, we have welcomed more refugees than any other country. Prices have risen, partly due to local jackals, but fear has also increased. The Moldovans were paralyzed by terror and were tempted to flee for safety, towards Iași, the capital of the Moldavian region in Romania.

On February 26th I was heartened to see how ordinary citizens had organized themselves and had begun to collect basic necessities for the newly arrived refugees, but fear continued to haunt me. I wanted to collect my things so that I would be ready if we were forced to flee. I am not proud of it, but first I packed my bags and then I also brought some aid to the refugee center. On my way home, the news reports confirmed the presence of daily trains to Iași. I told my mom we would wait another couple of days. We didn’t know anyone in Iași, but if things got worse we would get on a train the following Monday.

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I unpacked on May 9th. In the following days I read the list of weapons Ukrainians needed, posted on Twitter by Mykhailo Podolyak, advisor to Ukrainian President Zelenskii. I have read about the strategic bombing of Russia, about the cities razed to the ground, about the near annexation of Ukraine. Maybe I unpacked too soon.

The conflict of the past
Fear was, and still is, the most palpable feeling. Fear of the past surfaced to the surface of the present and exploded. The memory of famine, deportation and forced collectivization mixed with the nightmare of a war you see on a phone screen.

The first few days most of the news was terrible, but one photograph particularly struck me. I couldn’t look away. That shot took on a symbolic value for me. At a checkpoint, a mother and child were crossing the border between Ukraine and Moldova. The boy was holding a small houseplant in his arms. He had been forced to leave his house and had brought the plant with him. That photograph helped me not to drown as other nightmare images followed each other day and night.

March of this year marked the thirtieth anniversary of the outbreak of the war in Transnistria, a Moldovan region that in 1990 declared its independence, but was not recognized by the UN countries. The ceasefire was decided only three months later, but this conflict has never stopped tearing the population apart. And it was precisely in March that we learned about the terrible crimes committed in Buča and throughout Ukraine. The people of Chișinău started talking about fallout shelters in Moldova, wondering if they existed or not, and what state they were in.

The Cartier publishing house announced that it would celebrate its annual “night of books” on 8 April. The volumes would be sold at a discount, so many people gathered at the central bookstore, in a basement near the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Everyone spoke of barbarism and war. I realized that the central library was probably the best fallout shelter available to us. With all those books around, anyone would be less afraid of dying.

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Moldova is a neutral country, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t care about its security

My mother wanted to paint the bathroom. I obviously protested. I reminded her that we didn’t know what was going to happen, that we lived very close to her military base and hospital, and that those were potential targets. “I’m just freshening up. Stop reading all that news. She is not good for you ”. My mother’s voice was completely calm. She started painting and so I started cooking her Easter, a typical dessert of the Easter period. The war seemed to give us some respite.

Then, on the evening of Holy Saturday, I found myself crying while reading angrily how to make Molotov cocktails. That day I learned about the bombing of Odessa. A grandmother, mother and child had died in their apartment. Christ is risen!

Per Radonitsa, the Orthodox commemoration of the dead which falls on the second Tuesday of Easter, I went to the countryside. My uncle Vasile asked me when the conflict would reach us. He had fought in Transnistria in 1992. I replied that the war would not have come this far, and that the recent explosions in Transnistria were a kind of test. The pro-Russian separatists wanted to keep us on the tightrope. They weren’t going to lose power, but they weren’t going to fight either. For them it’s just a question of money.

“A fortune teller from Edinet told me that I will die in a few months. I hope it happens before the conflict comes. After 1992, I have a lot of hair out of the war, ”said Uncle Vasile. He raised a hand above his head. I tried to calm him down. “That woman was working,” I told him, “she needed the money. Don’t be naive ”. Uncle Vasile nodded, lit a cigarette, sighed and went to drink. A few hours later I heard him shout on the street: “Bessarabia (region of Moldova bordering Ukraine) is burning! Bessarabia is burning! ”.

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I was anxious about Victory Day, which we celebrate on May 9 in remembrance of the Nazi capitulation at the end of World War II. Everything took place with the display of the usual black and orange ribbons (pro-Russian military symbol), and with the usual arrogance and insensitivity. People were paid to get on buses and go to town to celebrate, much like people hired to vote for certain candidates.

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We heard more and more often about weapons donated from abroad. Moldova is a neutral country, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t care about its security. Top military experts and Moldovan generals have continued to repeat the same script: we are in no danger of being invaded by the Russian army.

In reality, the biggest danger for Moldovans is represented by scammers. Some wear the black and orange ribbon, some don’t. Mass deportations of Moldovans began in June 81 years ago. We would do well to remind ourselves of this as we watch the Ukrainians forced to flee.

“After what happened in Buča, we will set up a national commemoration day. We will never forget. We will not forget it ”, wrote Iuri Andruhovâci recently in the Romanian magazine The Old Dilemma. I hope the Moldovans do the same.

As buildings collapse in Ukraine and prices soar in Moldova, my mother began to accumulate provisions. I told her we had better pack our bags again. People buy anything she can get their hands on. An elderly couple behind me were discussing dried peas. The woman told her husband to put them back in place: “It takes a long time to boil them and the gas is expensive. The porridge and noodles will be fine ”.

We will be able to talk about this war later. We will be able to analyze it correctly. And I hope honestly. For now, I fear that we are slowly but surely getting used to the terror. As for poverty, we have been addicted to it for some time.

(Translation by Davide Musso)

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