Of war and Warsaw

Something must be said of the people around me. Of Polish people — my people, my neighbors — of how at this moment they’re again rising.

How they’re lining up here in Warsaw at the blood banks, at the donation centers, at the gas stations filling up because they’re headed for the border.

How they’re passing information along like spreading wildfire: ways to help, and what to bring, where.

How they’re adding their names to the lists of people willing to provide shelter to someone, or to other lists such as the ones for people willing to foster or adopt an animal.

All around me I see buildups of boxes and bags overstuffed with goods to go. I see baby strollers stacked up at the corner designated for strollers.

I see diapers and wipes, toiler paper, toothbrushes, socks, jackets, underwear.

Water, baby food, dog food, canned goods, shoes.

Batteries and chargers, pots and pans, cups and cutlery.

Bandages, disinfectants, medicine.

Coloring books and crayons.

Here in Warsaw, one doesn’t have to look far for a place to bring these items. So many restaurants and businesses have volunteered also to become makeshift donation points. And if one must travel further to such a spot, Uber is providing free rides to these places. (And there is a good chance also that the Uber driver will be eager, for a huge part of the driving and delivery and service workforce here has long been made up of Ukrainians who’d already come here looking for help, for a better life.)

At the time of this writing, it is Monday, February 28, or Day 5 of a war in which a country is being bombarded by a madman and his minions. Around here, where there are still bullet holes in some of the old plaster and brick, this echoes loudly. Maybe that’s why. Why I look up and see what I’m seeing.

I set it down here because in these last few days there have been people checking in from afar, friends from America or places elsewhere asking how we’re doing and what it’s now like.

Well this is what’s it’s now like. It’s nervousness. and pain. And beauty.

Nothing will ever reflect back to us the full folly and also the magnificence of humankind, as war. And here in Warsaw, where there is a Christmas tradition of always leaving an empty setting at the table in the event of a stranger or neighbor showing up at the doorstep hungry or in need, well it seems that this next Christmas these places at the table may well be filled.

Let it be. Here in Poland, where I am growing more proud of the blood I carry, we say Zapraszam, or we invite you.

—

Please consider donating to a verified, appropriate cause in support of the people of Ukraine. Several can be found at globalcitizen, or Time, or on social media.