Odesa’s Early Notes
Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen
Publication (Outlet/Website): Medium (Personal)
Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2024/06/13
When we first arrived to Odesa from Chisinau, Moldova, it was relatively clear. The pall of war set over the mood of Ukraine. Not in a feeling of the people, but in a sense of the space, Ukraine is a war zone.
Remus Cernea and I began surveying landscapes. What we found, they’d bombed a science centre, fine art museum, grain port, hotel, UNESCO cathedral, and more. No militarized buildings around; no command and control, it’s strange.
Cernea warned me. War is not normal. “Things will seem normal, then you will realize within a day. Things are not so normal.” He was right. Even simply on the bombing of civilian centres, I’d walk by these demolished buildings from explosives and reflect: Who lived here?
What were their names, attire, hates and loves, liked foods and music? Gone in an instant. Either their livelihoods in the loss of material for memory, or in their lives, it’s profound. I am reminded of the times walking in the cemetery of my home town, Fort Langley.
I used to walk in that cemetery all the time. I never wept there. It wasn’t sad. It was somber and sober. It’s the semblance of clear sensory experience awaking in the morning well-rested. Death is clarity. Moonlight on a grave clear, quiet–everpresent.
These targeted attacks reflect the facet of war as terror. The Russian Federation isn’t engaged in war alone: It’s engaged in acts of war in order to instil terror and install defeatism on civilian populations throughout Ukraine. Ukrainians are not.
Devastation of the Christian church was present. It was an UNESCO heritage site. Above, it was destroyed by the missile. Inside below, worship centres for Ukrainian Christian’s survived. People continue. Outside, devastation, there was a contrast in this destruction. Again, I was drawn back to the Fort Langley cemetery.
We were having a Kafkaesque experience. We woke up each day transmuted into different creatures: Wandering, meandering observers into the hellscape of war. We were tourists. They were civilians used to the most literal version of Russian Roulette: A missile or drone could kill them, though small chance, at any point in time.
The United Nations warned any traveller that nowhere in Ukraine is entirely safe. Odesa is among the safer cities. The reason for this is the West of Ukraine, generally speaking, is safer than the Eastern portions of Ukraine.
Life continues for Ukrainians, but air raid alarms can happen anytime. Then everyone goes to shelters or bunkers. I had my press body armor and combat helmet for the more dangerous parts of the trip. Several journalists have been killed.
The informal ‘policy’ appears to be to shoot journalists on site for Russian Federation soldiers. On anniversary of the Ukrainian Holodomor, when we were there, Russia did a record drone strike on Kyiv for four hours. It was in the morning. The biggest attack since the start of the full-scale invasion.
My surgery and the time zone jump, plus the jet lag and medications made me very, very sleepy — keeps mouth pain at bay, at least. No hard foods for most of the trip. Cernea showed me a bunker too. There was two entrances/exits. His military press pass helped with this. All reflecting the daily life for Ukrainians now, or for ‘tourists of war.’
After surgery and a drive to the airport, my friend’s last words, “You’re crazy.”
“Yes.”
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In-Sight Publishing by Scott Douglas Jacobsen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Based on a work at www.in-sightpublishing.com.
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