DNIPRO, Ukraine -- In Ukraine, New Year's is a time for family and friends to come together, to eat, drink, and exchange gifts, and reflect on days past and future. But what is normally a joyous time is now being marked for the second year under the shadow of all-out war in the country as Russia continues its full-scale onslaught.
Millions have been displaced from their homes, and there have been 315,000 Ukrainian casualties so far -- a number increasing daily.
For the displaced who now live at a shelter in Dnipro, in southeastern Ukraine, life must go on, and the second wartime New Year's will be marked. Speaking with RFE/RL's Ukrainian Service, the residents are finding small ways to celebrate, each act of gratitude a small victory over Russia's drive to break their spirit.
"At least here, in this space, peace should reign," says administrator Nina Bondar. "We must help each other."
People come to the shelter in varying states of trauma, each with their own burdens and demons, and all share a grief at the loss of "home." The volunteers do their best to make life at the shelter supportive -- offering psychological counseling and help with documents -- and to foster a sense of gratitude for each day.
In the 18 months it has been in operation, 10,000 people have passed through the Dnipro shelter, the majority of them at the beginning of the full-scale war when areas of south and eastern Ukraine were being actively evacuated. Now, people who come here can stay as long as they want, as long as they help out with the community in return.
'My Children Are All I Have Left'
Valentyna Romanyuk and her four children have been at the shelter for just a week. They had lived under Russian occupation in the Kherson region for a year and a half before managing to escape to Norway.
She recalls the time under occupation as one of fear and uncertainty.
"[Russian forces] kicked people out of their houses, especially older people. They came in and decided which is the best house and then told the people there, ‘You have 24 hours to leave.' They took everything from the houses -- even toilets and underwear."
At her children's school, she says, the students were told how the Russians had come to "liberate" and "protect" them. "The children, of course, were terrified," Romanyuk says. "We all were."
She decided to flee her hometown once the new school year came and went without the schools opening.
Several months ago she returned to Ukraine and tried to live in Dnipro, but her savings soon ran out. Now, she is adjusting to building a life at the shelter. A seamstress by trade, Romanyuk is looking for work. She also used to grow vegetables and sell them, and says she'd like to do the same here.
"I really want my home," she says. "I have nowhere to go back to. My house was destroyed."
There is no festive atmosphere, Romanyuk says, but adds she is thinking about small gifts for the children and setting up a festive table.
New Year's was "always fun" at home, she recalls, with a large group of relatives and neighbors.
"This year, I don't know," she says. "I have one dream: a good education for each of my children. The children are all I have left. If I can see my children smiling, I can survive anything."
For now, she is preparing to take the children outside into the snowy afternoon: "Now we will go for a walk, throw snowballs, lift each other's spirits, buy ice cream. It is another day, and we are alive."
'One Day It Will All End'
Yuriy Shmanov, a teacher from Lysychansk, lives next door to Romanyuk at the shelter. He has a place to sleep, with room for a desk and laptop, and has lived at the shelter since May 2022.
His brother was killed by shelling in their hometown. The windows of Shmanov's apartment were blown out on February 24, 2022 -- the day Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine. He says he survived because the curtains stopped the glass from flying in.
Shmanov lived in Lysychansk for three months during active hostilities before being evacuated by Italian volunteers.
Now he works part-time as a teacher for the Lysychansk Mining and Industrial College, and he holds classes online.
"I live with the thought that one day it will all end," he says. "Nothing is forever, and after war comes peace. I hope to return home because home is home. If our house is destroyed, we will repair it, rebuild it."
This New Year's will be Shmanov's second at the shelter.
"Last year, we all gathered together. I suggested we meet outside -- we had a bonfire, roasted meat. That's what we did, and we can do it again," he says.
'Necessary To Keep Living'
Oksana Lisova is from Vilnyansk in the Zaporizhzhya region. Her city is under constant fire and is half-destroyed, she says. She left there with her husband and 5-year-old daughter in September 2022. Her grandmother stayed behind.
For the first month, they lived in Poland. But then they returned to Dnipro and rented a place. But soon the shelter was their only option, and they have been here for six months.
Lisova says she is grateful that there is hot food and psychological support for her family.
"The children talk with the psychologists, and I do, too," she says. "Sometimes I lose my temper and shout. I try to restrain myself, but [it is difficult]."
Lisova's husband is a welder, but he's out of work at the moment. She herself is an electrician by trade, but she recently completed a beautician course and dreams of opening her own manicure business.
"God willing, maybe someone will help fulfill the dream: to buy the tools. I want to do this here, give the girls manicures and beauty treatments. If I had the tools, I could do it right here, in the shelter," she says.
Lisova remembers the New Year's holidays at home with fondness and is hopeful that she can recreate the same atmosphere here at the shelter:
"We have already put a Christmas tree up in the room, strung up garlands for the children. I want a homey atmosphere. Yes, we have these times now, but it is necessary to keep living. We cannot get stuck in one place.
"As always, I will cook Olivier [potato salad], pizza, pies. I like to spend time in the kitchen. There is no particular festive cheer, because one child is sick, but we will create the festive feeling ourselves."
She is hopeful for the new year, but it is a hardened hope. "We will return when the war is over," she says. "I want to go home so much, my soul hurts."
'Peace Shall Reign'
Lolita Glotova is a youth initiatives' specialist for the Luhansk region. She has been displaced twice: first in 2014, when she left Alchevsk for Lysychansk, and then after February 2022, when she left for Dnipro.
She volunteers at the shelter, which was created in 2022 by refugees from Luhansk with funding from international organizations. The volunteers provides activities and training for the residents, such as in digital literacy, accountancy, manicure classes, Ukrainian literature, painting, fitness – all aimed to foster purpose and routine for the residents as they struggle to adjust and grieve for what they have lost.
Glotova runs creative workshops for children and adults twice a week. She also organizes educational and entertainment events.
"I lead both painting and decorative arts, and I try to somehow guide the participants to understand their identity, belonging to both Ukraine and the Luhansk region. We paint patriotic pictures by numbers, relaxing, drinking coffee, listening to classical music…. They were surprised that it is possible," she says.
Administrator Nina Bondar is from Lysychansk. She says the shelter survives thanks to the humanitarian aid of international donors and several grants.
Like most of the residents, she, too, is trying to adjust to the new city, because there is no talk of returning home yet. But for now, she is here and caring for others. Like last year, New Year's will be celebrated.
"Whether it will be a common table or each room separately, we are still deciding. But I think there will be a sweet table, with cakes. I'm also preparing a surprise for the residents, maybe inviting a surprise guest…. I plan a lot every day; I can't do without work. Put things in their places, wash something somewhere, prepare for something. That's what we live for," Bondar says.
