Volunteer Jennifer Grueninger entertaining children in Przemysl station.Ĭalm is also how Przemyśl Deputy Mayor Bogusław Świeży describes it. An emergency responder wears a clown nose and makes kids laugh. People waiting for trains talk and check for news from home. Volunteers hand out food, toiletries and sim cards. The station goes through periodic rushes of activity when trains pull in or when buses arrive from the nearby humanitarian centre – which is still housed in the giant Tesco.īut outside of this the charming 19th century building can be almost serenely calm. I’m only young and I won’t be able to stay soon if I don’t get money.” Tanya’s from a town close to Odesa and she’s going to stay with a friend in Katowice, Poland, before potentially moving to Berlin. Travelling in the opposite direction is Tanya and her dog Fedir. Symon appears to be taking things in his stride, enjoying a mini-easter egg handed out by one of the volunteers and playing with a miniature helicopter. “We have to try to have a normal life and to help Ukraine.” Seven weeks later Natalia says it is time to return.
Natalia and her son Symon previously passed through Przemyśl in early March during a three day journey to stay with her cousin near Dresden, Germany. Yet people leaving (and returning to) Ukraine still stream through the train station throughout the day. Nearly two months later officials in the local government say the city is now relatively calm.
Within days the population of the city spiked from 60,000 up to 100,000 and several large buildings – including the train station, a theatre and a disused Tesco superstore – became temporary homes for thousands of people. Céimin Burke reports from the Poland-Ukraine borderĪ STONE’S THROW from Poland’s border with Ukraine, the city of Przemyśl immediately became a major hub for refugees fleeing Russia’s war when the invasion was launched in late February.