It was the body of Uncle Hena who was the last to be retrieved, his wife watching with wet, gray eyes.
At the same time as rescue teams were making their way through the rubble, thousands of people were lining up at various locations in the city to wait for water. Mykolaiv, home to half a million people before the war and maybe half now, doesn’t have potable water because in April The Russian army blew up all the pipes supplying the city with fresh water. That has made people here dependent on leaflets.
In a shopping mall parking lot, a huge crowd gathered after two trucks carrying bottled water arrived. The crowd wore thick coats. Their panting breaths were evident in the thin cold air. They trudged forward as one.
“Don’t panic!” a soldier shouted from a megaphone, standing next to the trucks. “There is enough for everyone. But don’t cross the line to get more”.
Miss Bas waited with the two children.
“All is miserable. Schools are closed, and learning is online, but we don’t have internet at home,” she said. “My husband works at a car wash, but business is not good, so he only brings home 200 hryvnias a day,” or about $5.
The temperature is falling. And she wasn’t sure when she would get hot.
“It’s not like we were rich before the war,” she said. “But I never had to ask for documents.”
“I’m trying to be strong,” she said. “I’m pretending to be strong.”
She turned to leave. The 10-year-old daughter ran after her, walking briskly. In her hand she clutched the package of chocolate chip cookies she had just been given. But in her eyes, she looked as if she was almost lost in the growing crowd.
Oleksandra Mykolyshyn contribution report.
