“Hello, grandfather. The Russians are bombing Kyiv and other peaceful Ukrainian cities. Your granddaughter is a refugee, headed to Germany. The Germans, like many other European nationals, are welcoming us and offering shelter and support.”
– Kora Smirinova, March 3rd, 2022
Kora Smirinova and I became Facebook friends in 2014. I was in Ukraine reporting on the Maidan Revolution and her post was going viral. Now in 2022, there is a lot of international support for Ukraine, but 2014 was different. Kora was loud and proud of her Russian roots and described herself as a Russian Ukrainian. She posed in a suit of armor in her photo and wrote with passion:
“I remember very well that my grandfather and his family came from Russia to Ukraine after the war. I am thankful that Ukraine adopted us, strangers. They gave us a home, a job, protection, and never offended us. In my entire life not once was I reproached for speaking my native language or singing my native songs, I was never called ‘Moskalka’ (this is a derogatory term for Russians). What sort of beast does one need to be to now decide to chase away and kill their host while yelling that this is their home?”
Today, Kora Smirnova, like over one million others, is a refugee who had to leave her beloved home. I don’t know Kora well, but I have followed her posts for eight years now. I have always admired her bravery and the love she has for our country and for animals. Together with her two dogs, one cat, one friend, and one complete stranger, she managed to leave war-torn Ukraine safely.
Kora Fleeing Kyiv
“What I am writing now isn’t a complaint. This is just my story that might help someone soberly assess their strengths. Since day two of the war, I have been living in a car.
Day 1:
The first day – I did not sleep, the bombing began.
Day 2:
The second day – I was just about to fall asleep at 5:00 a.m. (05:00) when the shelling began. It lasted until 1:00 p.m. (13:00). I was terribly frightened, wondering how I would run with my menagerie of furbabies to a bomb shelter. But there are none nearby, and besides, how would I feed them when food runs out? Amidst this crazy stream of thoughts, a voice intervened. It belonged to my rationally-minded Israeli friend.
The friend explained safe places to hide as well as where and what to cook. She strongly advised me not to wait until the situation got worse. Urging me to leave while I can, she told me that I was not alone; that I had somewhere to go. She gave me a contact to a stranger, who was ready to accept me with a poodle, a hairless cat, and a bull terrier, without even knowing me.
I left right then and there and began driving. On my way, I managed to pick up a friend, who had been living in a basement for two days due to the shelling.
Day 3:
I did not sleep. We kept driving. Thanks to a dear friend, and another voice of reason in my head, we were able to find a place to stop for the night. I wasn’t able to sleep but I did manage a little nap. In Lviv, we picked up another woman and helped her leave. We did not know each other, but after everything we had all been through, we felt like family.
Day 4:
We were already closer to the border. Our group of three women, two dogs, and one cat found shelter for the night. Friends of a friend who we didn’t know took us in, fed us, and gave us shelter. Thank you. But once again, I couldn’t sleep until 4:00 a.m. (04:00). I couldn’t stop hearing constant explosions, feeling them reverberating through the earth, even though there were none. By 6:00 a.m. (06:00), I was wide awake.
Day 5:
I was already in line to cross the border. It wasn’t possible to sleep because the line was inching forward. I had to stay awake and keep driving.
Day 6:
Still in line at the border. I finally managed to get some sleep, if only for two hours. I had closed my eyes and when I opened them, two hours had passed. Spending two days in a car in the forest without a bathroom or a shower was quite the challenge.
But locals did everything they could to help us. They served us food, hot tea, and delicious coffee. They brought us baked goods, meat pies, water, and napkins. All for free out of the kindness of their hearts. It was an incredible morale booster.
The most delicious soup I have ever tasted I ate while in line to cross the border. I cried every time I was offered help. I will always be grateful to the residents of Закарпатья (Zakarpattia Oblast).
Day 7:
We were safe in Hungary! I was able to sleep for four hours. Without the help of a stranger, we would have had to sleep in our car like many others, because finding a vacant hotel room was impossible.
Day 8:
I am completely safe in Austria. You would think that I would have been able to sleep, but my body rejected it. If you had told me that I could remain sane and keep going after such a long time of driving, stress, and almost no sleep, I wouldn’t have believed you.
But I am responsible for the lives of two people and three animals. I had no choice but to stay clear-headed and keep going. Of course, my past experiences traveling Europe by motorcycle and living in a tent came in handy.
The human body is astonishing. With high levels of the stress hormone cortisol and adrenaline, I no longer felt pain. Normally my back hurts even if I sit in the most comfortable chair for two hours. Throughout this entire ordeal, I did not feel so much as a sore back.
On that day, I was finally feeling better. The sun was shining. The road was good. I kept driving and felt joy. But suddenly, I heard that something was wrong with Angel, my bull terrier. So I stopped the car. My furbaby was very sick; he was hunched over in pain and could not move. He screamed out in pain at the gentlest touch. Something similar had happened to him half a year ago. We had gotten him an ultrasound, done x-rays, and run all possible tests.
Instantly, I myself started to feel very ill. I looked around, spotted a cafe, and asked my friend to help me get to it. I began feeling a wild twisting pain. It wasn’t clear where it is coming from. Everything started to dim right before my eyes. I managed to get to the bathroom, but that was where I fainted. I felt myself coming in and out of consciousness. I didn’t understand anything, comprehending just fragments through a fog. My best decision was to lay down on the floor so that I didn’t hit my head as I fainted.
My friend did not hesitate; she began a rescue operation. This was her first time abroad and she didn’t speak the language, yet she quickly found help and brought me pills. I was tested for COVID, but the test came back negative. My friend contacted the man who offered us refuge and he began working on a way to help me.
The pills started working, relieving my pain. My friend found a local resident who helped find us a hotel nearby. They helped get me there and I fell into bed, my mind swimming in and out of consciousness just like when I was on the bathroom floor. The bed was certainly more comfortable, but I am also grateful to Austrians for the clean bathroom floors.
Once again, I’d like to remind you of what I said at the beginning of this post. This is not a complaint. The people in Ukraine have it a thousand times worse. What they are going through is so much harder and more painful. This is just my story to share with others who are considering fleeing the country. Do not underestimate the journey. Take time to rest for a day or two along the way so that you remain healthy and safe.
Angel, the bull terrier, is also doing well. I gave him medicine and he is no longer in pain and has even managed to eat. Tomorrow, I will be in Germany.
In a couple of days, we will be in the Netherlands, our final destination.”
From Germany, Kora imagined what she might say to her Grandfather now:
“Hello, grandfather. The Russians are bombing Kyiv and other peaceful Ukrainian cities. Your granddaughter is a refugee, headed to Germany. The Germans, like many other European nationals, are welcoming us and offering shelter and support.”
What folows is what I wrote about Kora Smirinova in 2014, with a few improvements to my original translation. When I asked for her permission to write this article, she told me that the original post was removed in 2020 by Facebook after it was flagged by Russian users. This made me especially grateful that I had preserved it on the internet in all its glory.
Kora Smirinova: a Russian Ukrianian in 2014
Kora Smirinova posted a photo of herself on Facebook on March 12th, 2014, and it wasn’t just an ordinary photo. Many girls, including myself, love to take selfies and post duck-face pictures showing off their cleavage. But Smirnova did something a little different. She’s a modern woman and definitely no damsel in distress.
Before you read her message, please note that she uses harsh language and that her anger isn’t directed at the Russian nation as a whole, but only at those who are fighting to make Crimea part of Russia, which she opposes.
This is what she wrote in her photo’s caption:
“I am Smirinova, and I remember very well that my grandfather and his family came from Russia to Ukraine after the war. I am thankful that Ukraine adopted us, strangers, gave us a home, a job, protection, and never offended us.
In my entire life not once was I reproached for speaking my native language or singing my native songs, I was never called ‘Moskalka’ (this is a derogatory term for Russians). I was born in Poltava. Ukraine raised me as her own, and when I moved to Kyiv, not once did I hear the word ‘limit’.
I am 100% Ukrainian! Even though I don’t have a single drop of Ukrainian blood inside me. It doesn’t cross my mind to yell, “I am Russian, there are many Russians here so that means this land belongs to Russia!?”
Some of you other Russians in Ukraine, your memories are completely false – how is this your land? You ungrateful monsters! You are all guests here, who were given shelter and welcomed as kin. What sort of beast does one need to be to now decide to chase away and kill their host while yelling that this is their home?!
Crimea is Russian? B******s with a short memory. You forgot what your fathers did to the Tatars? You forgot how much blood of the Tatar men you spilled and how many tears of grief of the indigenous population you caused? How you boarded Tatar families into trains and transported them to Siberia?
You all need to spend the remaining Millennium begging on your knees for forgiveness. I am a Russian Ukrainian! I will chase bad Russians out of my native Ukraine together with my fellow Ukrainians.
P.S. Stepan Bandera is a hero of Ukraine, who spent his whole life fighting, by all means, necessary for the freedom of Ukraine. So yes, I am a ‘Banderovka’ (a term used for people who share and support Bandera’s ideals).”
I had to re-read her post several times to soak it all in. Smirinova has clearly had enough with all that had been going on and this is what came out. There are many Russians who are outraged at what is going on in Crimea. There were thousands of Russian protesters in Moscow this weekend. Ukrainians had never imagined seeing so many Ukrainian flags in Moscow.
February 2022
Fast-forward back to 2022, and once again we can see thousands of Ukrainian flags in Moscow, St. Petersburg, all over the country, and even the world. As a Ukrainian living abroad, I cannot feel anything but pride and anger for the brave people in Ukraine, not just those who are Ukrainian by blood.
My biggest takeaway from her story is how kind strangers have been to her on her journey. Without them, she would not have made it. They asked for and received nothing in exchange for helping her. I never expected extreme violence to bring out the best in so many people.
Ukraine is a nation of heroes that is coming together like never before, and I am looking forward to the day that we rebuild our cities and celebrate a victory. Even in the darkest moments, Ukrainians are showing their true nature. It warms my heart to see videos of surrendered and captured Russian soldiers given food and tea and offered phones to call home to their worried mothers.
Slava Ukraini! Donate to reputable organizations helping Ukraine here.
