Welcome to Poland. It’s a phrase hundreds and thousands of Ukrainians are hearing each week as they flee their war-torn homeland in search of safety – and sometimes it’s said in an Australian accent.
Russia’s invasion has sparked one of the biggest refugee crises since the second world war. In just four weeks, nearly 3.5 million people have fled Ukraine, with more than a million crossing one of eight border checkpoints into Poland.
There, the United Nations, the Red Cross and NGOs are being assisted by an army of volunteers – regular citizens from across Europe and beyond – who have come to help.
In the chaos of Przemyśl station or at one of the makeshift reception centres in Warsaw, languages from across the continent are spoken. In English, some of the accents are Australian.
The Ukrainian diaspora in Australia is small – the last census recorded 13,000. But they are tight-knit and passionate about their homeland. Some have headed overseas to help.
Stefan Romaniw, who co-chairs the Australian Federation of Ukrainian Organisations, has just spent a week travelling between Poland and parts of western Ukraine. He met with Ukraine’s foreign affairs minister, Dmytro Kuleba, and the mayor of Lviv, Andriy Sadovyi.
Romaniw was there to get an understanding of what was needed on the ground so Ukrainians across the globe can coordinate their aid response.
“We spent some time on the border on both sides – if you can imagine thousands of people with a handbag or suitcase, or young children with one toy in their hand, being marched through an area to be processed,” he said.
“Big shopping centres, full of stretchers, 1,000 to 2,000 people sleeping there with nothing more than what they brought. There are field kitchens, medical facilities, play centres for children. The infrastructure is very good.”
Romaniw said the Polish government was doing an “extraordinary job” handling the crisis but the grief of those pouring over the border was immense.
“When you speak to people there are different reactions. For some it’s shock, for young children, they’re tired, they’re dragging their feet. For those who are older, you can see the despair.
“You ask yourself how it could happen in 2022.”
Romaniw wants the Australian government to provide more help – including humanitarian and military aid. He said the situation on the ground is terrifying and “there is no place safe in Ukraine anymore”.
Viktoriya Nikitina is a dual Australian and Ukrainian citizen who runs a window and door manufacturing business in Melbourne. She heard families were struggling to get the right help in Germany and, given she speaks English, German and Ukrainian, she booked a plane ticket to help.
“It came to my attention that some families, mainly women with children, that made it to Germany, they’ve found it difficult,” she said. “I hope using my contacts and language I can make a difference.”
On 4 March, the European Union announced Ukrainians would be permitted to live, work, and study in EU member states for up to three years.
Nikitina said the language barrier had made it difficult for some Ukrainians to access services so she has been contacting government organisations on their behalf.
“There are language barriers; the German government, they don’t want to register them with [the] special Ukrainian status, they’re trying to register them as refugees. So [they] have no right to work, [they’re] not able to leave the capital,” she said.
People she has met just want to put their kids in school and get some form of income before they can go back to their own country.
“They’re not friends, they’re not family [but] they’re still Ukrainian. It’s about trying to help.”
Not every Australian helping has a strong Ukrainian connection. Isabelle Robertson, an expat who lives in Salzburg has set up “Free Rides West” with a group of friends. They’ve been driving six vans over to Poland, dropping off supplies and picking up people who need lifts back to western Europe.
“We are just a group of friends offering lifts to those who need it,” Robertson said. “We saw an opportunity to help.”
Robertson said in places the infrastructure was straining to keep up. She said one reception centre was so full they were having to choose who got to stay inside and who was left to fend in Poland’s harsh winter.
“The people not in priority groups are being pushed out. It’s freezing cold and people are only carrying what they can,” she said.
A family of four elderly relatives, one in a wheelchair, had been struggling to find help before one of the vans picked them up.
“No one wanted to take them. Transporting someone with a disability, there are more logistics, it’s so horrible, they’re put in a position to prioritise human beings.”
The group has transported 92 people from the Polish border to countries across Europe – organising plane tickets for them if it is too far to drive. Every story is different.
“We had dinner the other night with professors from Ukraine, deans from universities and their kids. Another mum spent 5 days in a bunker with a six-year-old and a two-year-old and would have to go out for supplies, not knowing if she would come back.
“Another family from Odesa were in good spirits, we talked work, soccer, and how beautiful Odesa is, we turned on the news, Odesa was preparing to be shelled.”
The vans have picked up a 19-year-old girl separated from her parents, a 15-year-old boy who was just young enough to leave who was travelling with his mother, a grandmother and five kids going to Bologna. The group has translators on the phone ready to answer any questions.
“We can only help a handful. The reality is when there are over three million [people] this is a small drop,” Robertson said.
