She says she loves being able to help, even though she sacrifices her weekends off to take up this work. She switches to English when necessary and helps volunteers of other nationalities on other occasions. For her the most important thing is to spend time usefully, as she says: ‘…at times like this when you come, it’s a very good feeling that we are not alone in this darkness’.

Andi had been living in England for 7 years when the war broke out. She first tried to help from there. But after a while she felt she had to give up what she had built up there and come home since this is where she is needed.

– My cousin, who is a soldier, is missing. He disappeared on the front line. And although I had already volunteered abroad, with a British group, I felt that I had to come home, I had to be here with my family. My cousin and I grew up together and we always had a real brotherly relationship. I came home and started doing the paperwork to find my missing cousin. I wrote applications, filled out forms, and in the process, I found that there was a great need for help in this area as well. So, I undertook to help families like ours, who were looking for their missing family members, within an organised framework as an employee of a Transcarpathian aid organisation. I have been doing this for more than a year now, it’s my job, helping to write applications, drafting requests and of course volunteering where I can. 

When asked how the search for missing people – including her cousin – is really going, Andi answers thoughtfully, taking a deep breath and with a trembling voice.

– I recently travelled to Kiev to look at corpses in pictures, because we must do that, to see if there’s any tattoos or other characteristics on the corpse that can identify our relatives. It’s very stressful. And – I just showed somebody – there is a ‘Telegram’ platform, with different groups within it, where the Russian side posts corpses, prisoners of war, videos of them being beaten. We look at it every day because they used to post people we know that they are there, or the dead bodies. And unfortunately, we are looking at this, I am looking at the bodies, I am looking at the tattoos to see if I can recognise any of the people who have disappeared from Transcarpathia. And the problem is, she says, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand with his fingers, that pictures like this, these very terrible pictures, are usually posted at night. So just when you’re about to go and have a rest, maybe to calm down a bit, they post them on the web – at night, so that you can’t sleep. Well, there’s… there’s nothing to say about it – Andi shakes her head, while her voice fades – this is so… this is so… inhuman.

Andi’s beautiful, round, black eyes look at the toe of her shoe. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t even make a sound for a moment, then continues quietly yet firmly:

– I think there are people who run away from their emotions by putting on the mask that I’m fine, I’m strong, I’m going to go on and they put aside their fears, their lack of understanding, their sadness and try to appear strong. But there are some people who are angry, some people are more upset, so… the situation here is quite difficult. I think everyone has their own trauma, their own story, everyone has been touched by this war.

As a volunteer, Andi not only provides technical assistance, but she also works with people who have suffered severe losses, although in different ways.

– People react very differently to their own losses – she says thoughtfully. For some people, just giving a hug when you see they are desperate is enough to help them and make them feel better. There are people who just want to talk themselves out and then we sit there with them and listen. There are also those who need help, food, anything: warm clothes, shelter, help in finding a job, so we help as much as we can. But they also really need psychological help – she adds.

In Transcarpathia, in Uzhhorod, the sound of bombardment is not heard, the air raid sirens are no longer heard as in the first phase of the war, there is no need to run to shelters to escape the bombs. The city is quiet, perhaps too quiet, yet there is a sense of tense unrest. Moving towards the surrounding villages and settlements, military checkpoints have been set up to make it easier to check the men, the military is now not a matter of choice in the hinterland.

– I can’t wait for all this to be over – Andi says – because I can’t stand it anymore, I’m tired, but I try to help myself by staying at home with my dogs, or just going to church, lighting a candle, then sitting there and crying. I help myself as best I can. Before that, I imagined that at the age of thirty-five I would have a family, 2 children, 2 dogs, a job and peace. Going on vacation – she says thoughtfully – I dreamt of such a nice family, a quiet future, but I could never have imagined that at thirty-five I would be living in a war and looking at bodies and looking for my relatives and helping others find theirs. But here we are, this is our reality now, that abnormal things are becoming normal – she emphasizes – while looking me in the eye as if she is expecting me to reassure her. I encourage and support her in trusting herself that it will end, even if we don’t know when.

MedSpot Foundation, 2024