Laughter Offers Free Medicine in War: The story of a family from Chuguyev
The city of Chuguiv, 20 km from Kharkiv, became a zone of intense shelling almost from the first day of the large-scale invasion. While residents were long used to the sounds of their local military airfield, life in the their city and in the skies overhead would change overnight.
“On February 23, you are at work, everything is burning within you, you don't have time for anything and you go to bed with a lot of plans,” recalls Natalya Petrivna, who, when the invasion began, was the head of Customer Service for a large company. “And, then you wake up in the morning and realize: Everything that happened yesterday is completely unimportant.”
Natalya lives with her daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren, including her granddaughter, Sonya, 14. When the war started that day, the family quickly arranged a hiding place in their basement. They never thought about leaving the city. The war and what was happening seemed so absurd and unbelievable--it couldn’t possibly last long.
“I wanted to believe that [it] was about to end,” she said. “The worst thing was enemy aircraft dropping bombs. We are from a city where planes are constantly flying. But, these everyday sounds for us quickly become the scariest that we had heard in our lives. Your body reacts in such a way that you feel physically sick. A state close to a panic attack. And you can't do anything about it. The sound of an airplane is something we won't soon forget.”
In those days, many people left the city—and even their country—simply to get away from the war, not knowing where they would be the next day. Many have since returned because of the struggles to find safe housing, employment, and adapting to the new conditions.
For Iryna’s family, they stayed in their basement. But, just next to their house was Iryna's company—a large factory that had been recently refurbished; everything was “shiny” there.
“You could probably see it from space,” says Iryna. “My manager kept calling me and saying, ‘What are you waiting for? Do you understand that the enemy will lay an eye on such an enterprise sooner or later? It will get hit!’ I pushed these thoughts away from me.”
But, that’s exactly what happened.
“It started on a sunny, beautiful day of March 25. We were catching some air in the yard. And suddenly everything began to explode. A column of black smoke rose,” Iryana recalls. “I [thought about how] the company stored polyethylene packaging, plastic, cylinders. If it all started burning, we would suffocate in the poisonous smoke. The decision was immediate: we must leave.We got into the car with the children, took one backpack, and set off. We were driving aimlessly.”
Along their drive, one of Iryan’s friends suggested they could get shelter at Caritas-SPES in Kamianets-Podilskyi.
“We calmed down a little because we knew where we were going,” says Iryana. “And, someone awaited us.”
They would later learn that they had fled just in time: the massive warehouse and surrounding buildings were burned to the ground.
The family is now settled into the shelter, finding comfort and a semblance of routine and normalcy until they can return home. Sonya studies remotely at her Chuhuiv school and is in touch with the friends, whom she misses so much. Her little brother goes to kindergarten, and Iryna's mother takes care of the large family. In fact, she is the coordinator at the shelter, providing a range of support to the 27 people (adults and children) living there.
“We have a very tightly-knit team,” says Iryana. “First, we are all from the same city. We were friends even before the. And, we all have faced the same distress. It is easier to overcome challenges together.”
“I immediately agreed when the opportunity arose to become a coordinator. Although the messenger sometimes goes crazy over all kinds of requests, these are all life moments that we successfully overcome. So this is a new experience for me, and I am enjoying it,” says Iryana.
Iryna is fortunate for her support system—her husband, Denis; mother, Natalya; and mother-in-law, Olga—who “help with everything,” she says.
“We used to travel a lot,” says Sonya. “We had a tradition: Almost every weekend, we would go to a new city … see sights and places of interest.”
The family even shares funny stories, despite the war. According to Natalya, it helps overcome post-traumatic stress.
“Laughter heals. It is entirely free medicine,” Natalya says. “My grandson and I once went to a store, and he asked a saleswoman for a bar of chocolate. At that moment, a chocolate bar rolls off the display case and falls with a loud sound that reminds a blast. It took my grandson and me a moment to get under the table: he was from below, and I shielded him with myself from above. The sellers lean over the counter and look at us. I imagine what it looked like for people around who did not live under shelling. It was funny and awkward at the same time.”
Natalya laughed as she told the story—and her granddaughter, Sonya, reminded her of another one.
“We had an apple tree. We decided to cut down a branch because it was in the way. Sonya kept sawing it, but it wouldn’t fall. We even had a little fight because she didn't finish her work. We went to sleep, planning to finish it in the morning. There was an air raid at night. When we got out in the morning, the apple tree was gone. And Sonya [said], ‘I told you there was no need to saw it,’”
These stories help create an atmosphere of home for Iryana’s family in a shelter while their real home is still under siege. Chuhuiv remains unsafe, but they have received good news that their house is still standing. The walls of their home are awaiting their owners, for life to begin again.
