book (1)

Tatiana

Surprisingly, there was absolutely no free time (despite the fact that I was not working and got up from bed at 5 am). How quickly the time flew! I tried to determine: 1) bringing water - from one hour to three; 2) market, shops

–a couple of hours too (you have to run around to different shops and to stand in queues (how not to remember the '90s?), until I bought the most necessary things; 3) attempts to phone somebody - from half to three hours; 4) cooking and washing dishes in the absence of water also takes a lot of time. And since there was no refrigerator, cooking for the future was impossible. So, I used to cook every day; 5) Momtwo hours (washing, feeding, processing wounds, etc.). That's not counting affairs such as cleaning, laundry, etc. And if to consider, that at 7 pm day basically ends (It is getting dark), it turns out that free time did not exist.

But got enough sleep for the rest of my life: I went to bed around nine. At first I slept without waking up, I woke up in three - three-thirty most recently, I felt briskly ... And the first time in June and July, I was sleeping all the time during the day, I walked as a sleepy fly. No, better not to have enough time, otherwise you will become dull and turn into a vegetable ... By the way, my sister had insomnia after the shelling of Lugansk had stopped. She always listens; she is waiting for the shot. I think she is not the only one...

Vera

"Yellow-and-blue" patriots-mortar regularly shell residential neighborhoods from the side of the city Schastye, which is controlled by Ukrainian army, and aim in line for bread and water, bus stops, markets, schools...

Unbearable heat!!! Everything around is pegging out (it's the most suitable word), the sky isn't blue, it's dull white. The attacks have continued unabated for the third day. Water is not expected, and the driver changes the position of the importation every time. But I still go in exploration for water. The crowd of people is waiting in the yard of a nine-storey building, they are whispering, walking on eggshells, even the animals are creeping. On the eve mortal men have fired two cars with water only in our area. And as always, as soon as the mortar attack is started, everybody run home with empty bottles. People are disappearing in a matter of minutes, the street is empty.

It doesn't fit in my head: how to hunt for people, ordinary people who are standing in line for bread and water? People who are deprived of the rest and sleep, who don't know what is going on with their loved ones, who live in the other side of the town. Those who call themselves patriots of Ukraine, they simply do not consider us people, probably, so it's easier to pull the trigger. What motivates them? Not love to Motherland, that's for sure.

Tatiana

Nature abhors a vacuum; I‟m convinced at this again.

Now it is confirmed in relation to friends. Never before had I been so happy if I met a friend on the street. Colleagues, friends, former neighbors, we all become almost beloved relatives. Staircases at entrances become clubs. In the houses where were electric stoves, residents cook collective meals on a fire, and eat them together. I wonder if after the war, these relations will continue. Or again we will hide in our “egg shells”?

When you try to analyze your inner state then almost complete lack of emotion strikes me. You are like ice, it is the emotional burnout. I am in a state of some emotional dullness, I do not miss my friends, I do not regret myself, I am almost not afraid of attacks. The brain refuses to analyze the situation and issue forecasts. I try not to think about the future. And how to think about it, unless you know what will happen to you in an hour. And I've always loved to plan my life...

For some of my friends there was a revaluation. A friend of mine, as I thought, a friend (our relationship more than 30 years), while there was a connection, she did not bother to call and ask: "Tatiana, are you alive? Maybe you need help?” My acquaintance from Poltava(we met a couple of times at conferences) rang constantly offering assistance. I was touched to tears by her suggestion: "Maybe you need money? I have 500 hryvnia. "And I

know that the money she had no superfluous, she would

tear them away from her, to send me, if I agreed ...

A childhood friend, who now lives in Moscow, called every day until there was a connection. My old friend from graduate school found me on the home phone and called three times a day, trying to cheer me up. And, of course, two of my best friends have been tested by the war.

Peace will come, certainly. And the relationship with friends will be based on experiences. Apparently, their number will not reduce, instead of one, who fell out of the cage, several new appear. Maybe with your prayers, guys, I'm alive...

And deep down inside, there is the sense that everything will be fine. What does that mean - I cannot explain, even if you really ask. I simply know - everything will be fine...

Vera

It has finally rained today, and I've even managed to collect some water, whereby I have done a lot of things: I have washed clothes, have made wet cleaning with the same water and I have poured barely alive cucumber with its remains. Clean! I have brought home two bouquets of garden flowers. It have became easier to breathe. Putting an end to attempting to get bread, I have baked a cake decorated with roses from the remnants of the flour. War is war, and beauty on a schedule!

In preparation for the feast of the Transfiguration I collect apples, pears and grapes on a neighbor's backyards and decorate the basket with flowers. Festive service is bright and festive. We were very happy to meet Tatiana in the temple, because now every encounter with friends is a celebration: human is alive! The feeling is that all of us who are remaining here, as beads are connected by an invisible thread. Everyone is saying "Lord, have mercy!" and we are all keeping each other up and getting an invisible assistance. One of the priests said, "It Will be easier soon," and I concluded that the end of this war is not in sight. The main thing now is not to think, who to blame and who started first, and to perceive everything as a test. You need to pass it and not turn into an evil humanoid creature…

Tatiana

September 3rd, there is very specific anniversary ... The city lives a month without electricity and water. It is already very annoying. I have to look for water (many natural water sources to which I had gone before, stopped working). And it is getting dark faster. We have to go to bed at 9 o'clock. And in a couple of weeks, shall I go to bed at eight? I was the whole time dreaming about peaceful life: the light in the apartment, talking on the phone, friends ... I missed those all! During the day I do not recognize myself in this, but at night the subconscious produces.

People began to return to Lugansk. Six schools, kindergartens, universities began to work. Arrived people are surprised that in the city, at first glance, everything is fine; on the streets there are no corpses, no debris. They came when the city began to recover; they have not seen gaping emptiness broken windows, broken fragments of trees, and smoke from the burning of the Central Market, blood stains on the pavement. Only those who have survived those terrible months, looking at Lugansk, which heals wounds, remember where they were.

On the streets is already as during a May Day demonstrations (though, only in the morning). Sellers and buyers appeared on the market. Lugansk is preparing for the Day of the city: parks, streets are in order. If only for that day would give electricity and water!

Vera

Today is the day of the city. Promised for the holiday lights and water have not been given. Too much damage, and materials, as professionals, are not enough.

It's a sunny, but cold morning. The last warm days... We have visited the mother in law, and have been able to get the real bread. And it's already a holiday. Carefully laying out grey fragrant loaf, I remember grandma's words "Bread is the staff of life!" Later, slicing it into thin slices for dinner, I remembered every stale or covered with mold piece of bread, which have been thrown in a time of peace by me. Mother-in-law received humanitarian assistance, and we, tearing open bags of groceries, all together feasted with the pasta with a Russian stew. Today exactly three months to our republics. It sounds more unusual. Days, months, years passed before the war... a Military day is quite different, different in composition, sound and smell. Awakened from sleep, and, without even opening eyes, you thank God for another night and going to live another day. You are going to do the most mundane things, and at the end you are happy to the successful outcome. Every hour of our life is meaningful.

Tatiana

During the war the values change. You do not need new clothes. It isn‟t so important for you a new haircut. You rejoice, if you managed to get water in the morning from natural water source without waiting, or buy fresh bread, standing in a line only 10 minutes.

The concepts of «beauty», «make-up» also have undergone changes. If you have washed your hair, then you are beautiful. Putting mascara on the eyelashes is impossible because in the evening I cannot wash it off.

Therefore, in the morning you “denote” with a pencil your eyes (let people know what they are), before going out you apply lipstick. And still persisting peacetime habit is perfume. If you look from the side, probably, this is ridiculous. I dress like so, to fall to the ground during the shelling without pity about clothes: t- shirt, accordingly, no ironing, jeans ironed by soldiers method (under the mattress), and at the same time I redolent "Chanel" or "Dior". Yes, living well is not against the law.

During the war the character of Lugansk residents has changed a lot. If at first the scandals and quarrels often erupted in line at the pharmacy, for water, for bread, but now I cannot hear them. After shelling the center of Lugansk everyone living there, as something akin to each other, they greet all in line for water, help each other. More than once I caught myself on the fact that I speak to strangers and they willingly respond me.

Vladimir

Everyone who stayed in the city during the war, have changed incredibly. Yes, it was the worst time for our Luhansk. The time when the Ukrainian Luhansk died to be born, from its ashes renewed, like the Phoenix. I have been seen so much horror this summer, that, perhaps, such amount would be enough for 10 lifetimes. I saw how people died, the good people who have had their very own loving families, friends, hobbies and their meanings of life. And all this was erased in one second by mine, shrapnel, bullets, artillery shells, cluster bomb

... There was a person, a living soul and here no person. I remember the appearance of mobile connection in the area within 1 km from my home . Just two spots in this area. It was the real happiness, to finally know how are your loved ones doing, say the most important words to them. “I`m Alive!” Or something that we didn`t have time, strength or something to say before the war approached. So, there, in this spots, people died too, at times, unable to contact their families beyond the city borders. There were also saboteurs with mortars shooting in small groups of civilians, innocent people, who just wanted to say just one or two sentences to people they love. We saw how people die, which we knew, respected, loved, even the ones we did not like, did not like or did not have time to get acquainted with before the war, we have died ourselves. Inside ... Died to be reborn again, together with the city ...

Tatiana

I never thought that so many people in the city willing to work for free as volunteers. One of the women volunteers (a financier by profession), delivered humanitarian aid to bedridden, she told me that after her company, where she had been working, was closed, "not to go crazy at home, I went to the volunteers." And there are a lot of people, who did the same.

During the war, I have mastered a new profession scavenger. After two visits to the executive committee finally machine came to pick up trash. But the rubbish in front of the boxes appeared in bulk. And I personally, with my hands, remembering the experience of archaeological works, sketched with a shovel three containers all sorts of rubbish. Oddly enough, my heightened gag reflex has gone somewhere, and I slipped away my usual squeamishness. But now in our yard is almost pure. The rest was cleaned every other day. By the way, when we called for help three men (as we scavenged with three neighbors) from a neighboring house, they looked at us as fools. In short, the garbage was removed only by women. If only my friends could see me as I was cleaning the glass with a shovel and all garbage in the trash, and how I tried to kill the smell of garbage with perfume aroma "Gardens of the Nile" by Hermes..

So, about the heroism ... This word, seems to me, has

several levels of perception. The generally accepted: the hero is one who makes coming out of the ordinary bold