For the past week, Anna Bereznyak has had a new morning routine: Wake up. Grab her phone. Confirm her family is still alive.
鈥溾�橝re you OK? Are you still there?鈥欌�� Bereznyak said, describing the messages she sends. 鈥淵ou are waiting impatiently for them to respond because you literally don鈥檛 know what happened while you were sleeping.鈥�
Born and raised in Ukraine鈥檚 capital, Kyiv, Bereznyak emigrated to the U.S. two years ago. Her parents and her niece still live in the Eastern European nation. Since Russia invaded Ukraine a week ago, her mother and niece have moved to the countryside to avoid the fighting in Kyiv; her father has stayed.
Each hour she doesn鈥檛 hear from them, her worry mounts.
鈥淭hree hours after your last contact you are like, 鈥榊eah, they are fine, they just don鈥檛 have network,鈥欌�� Bereznyak, who lives with her husband and two kids in Georgetown, said. 鈥淓ight hours you鈥檙e getting anxious. By 12 hours, you start calling all the possible emergency services checking on them.鈥�
Austin鈥檚 foreign-born Ukrainian community is small; in 2019, the U.S. Census Bureau estimated there were fewer than 1,000 living in the city. But Ukrainians in Central Texas have been organizing and attending daily protests outside of businesses and government buildings.
鈥淲e all know that when something like this happens you got to find your people,鈥� Bereznyak said.
KUT spoke with Ukrainians living in Austin to understand how they鈥檙e dealing with daily life as war rages thousands of miles away in their home country. Three women described an almost electric current of constant fear 鈥� an anxiety and helplessness that pulses through them.
Nataliya Kovalchuk said the past week has felt like a 鈥渂ad dream.鈥� But in order to wake up from a dream you have to sleep first; that鈥檚 something Kovalchuk is not doing.
鈥淪ometimes it鈥檚 hard to breathe. It鈥檚 been hard to sleep at night, too,鈥� she said. 鈥淓ven physically I feel like I鈥檓 in pain. It鈥檚 hard being here and knowing so much destruction is going on. I feel helpless.鈥�
Kovalchuk鈥檚 parents, brother and nieces were living in Ukraine when Russian troops invaded last week. Since then, her nieces have fled with their mother and one set of grandparents to Italy. But the rest of Kovalchuk鈥檚 family has stayed behind in their small hometown in western Ukraine, a region of the country not yet bombarded by Russian military attacks.
Regardless, they鈥檝e been hunkering indoors, leaving the house only when they run out of food.
鈥淭hey鈥檝e heard the sirens alarming that there is a possibility of airstrikes. They heard military aircrafts over,鈥� Kovalchuk said. 鈥淸On Tuesday] my mom said there was a big drone she could see from her window.鈥�
Kovalchuk said she has the news on as often as possible, struggling to watch the decimation of her country while also feeling these are events she needs to witness. Her son, who is 6 years old, has noticed a change in her.
鈥淗e sees me crying. He sees me being not emotionally with him because I have to check messages [from family and friends] all the time,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 know that he wants to play. He wants me to be his regular mom that takes care of him, goes to the playground, has fun. But I can鈥檛.鈥�
On Tuesday, Russia bombed Kharkiv, a region in Eastern Ukraine where Kovalchuk鈥檚 husband, Vitaliy Myronenko, is from. He watched as Freedom Square was showered in dust and debris. As a university student, he often walked through the large public square in the center of the city.
鈥淚t鈥檚 heartbreaking,鈥� he said, gasping as he fought back tears.
The images of destruction are hard to reconcile with Kovalchuk鈥檚 memories of her country. She said she keeps thinking back to last summer, when the family traveled to Ukraine. They spent a week in the Carpathian Mountains in the western part of the country; there, they walked the hills and collected wild berries.
鈥淚 treasure that memory so much right now,鈥� she said.
What has helped Kovalchuk and her family is to join rallies throughout Austin in support of Ukraine. This weekend her 6-year-old son, Alexander, asked if he could join her; Kovalchuk has struggled to explain war to him, but decided he could come.
At first, he was amazed.
鈥溾�橭h my god, Mommy, there are so many Ukrainian flags here. There are so many people here,鈥欌�� he told her. But his fascination, she said, quickly turned to recognition.
鈥淗e saw the same emotions amongst those people that I had. Then he realized that something bad is going on.鈥�
As of March 1, the United Nations said it had recorded more than 200 civilians killed during the war. More than 1 million Ukrainians have fled the country.
Darya Ledesma鈥檚 family is not among them. Her mom, sister and niece have spent the last few days cowering in a house in the countryside outside Kyiv where the violence has recently escalated.
鈥淭hey could hear loud explosions, could see fire from the window,鈥� Ledesma, who lives in Austin, said.
As of Thursday, her family was attempting to drive to Ternopil, a city in Western Ukraine. While they remain unharmed, Ledesma said, she worries about long-lasting trauma.
鈥淢y sister is scared of every noise, whether it鈥檚 a teakettle, whether something falls. She鈥檚 scared of the night. She鈥檚 scared to go to bed,鈥� Ledesma said. 鈥淢y family is scarred forever and probably for generations.鈥�
Ledesma said she worries most about her niece, who is 7 years old. Ledesma鈥檚 sister told her recently the young girl screamed at the adults around her.
鈥淧lease, everybody be quiet!鈥� she reportedly yelled, griped by exhaustion. 鈥淪top talking about war.鈥�
Ledesma, of course, doesn鈥檛 want people outside Ukraine to be quiet.
鈥淧lease join our rallies,鈥� she said. 鈥淐ollect humanitarian help. Donate. Call on your senators and congressmen. Share the truth. Speak up.鈥�
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