Sept 18
We awaken to yet another air raid siren around 2:00 AM. Again, I slip on my clothes hurriedly and meet Nestor outside my bedroom door. He is on his phone, checking texts. Then, he turns to me, saying in his broken English “We go to basement.” So we gather up the dog, head downstairs and meet his neighbor in the basement corridor. Rolling out an old mildew-smelling remnant of beige shag carpet, we sit and wait out the moments. Nestor checks his phone constantly. Finally, “The missiles have been diverted from Lviv to a town southeast of here.” So back upstairs we climb and back into bed. I am able to go back to sleep, and I have no idea how.
When the sirens sound, rows and rows of soldiers in uniform trot down the sidewalk, heading for the park. A former Soviet military academy, it was never built with a bomb shelter (WTF??). It’s just one more example of how little that country considers its own citizens. The scores of troops, some jogging, others walking, is another reminder of living in a country at war.
I elect to stay home again. The fatigue is catching up with me and I know I need to rest up for my long and grueling trip back over the border.
September 19
I pre-pack, and haul over to Superhumans to say goodbye and hopefully create one final portrait. (read more)
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