In the small country village where my son is, at my parents-in-law’s house, a shell fell on a transformer. More current in the village. Thanks to funds sent to me by my sister who lives in Paris, we were able to buy a small generator. The whole village is at my in-laws around one or two lamps and the last refrigerator that works.
Here in Kiev, we are ready. In every street, every house, every grove of trees there is a cache or a trap. It won’t be easy for them to get in. The night (March 3-4) was calm in the city but heavy fighting is heard in the suburbs. A few humanitarian convoys passed. Food stores that remained open are partly restocked. The rationing is well done. You can find a bit of everything, everywhere. No shortage. Bread is baked on site, in supermarkets. What a strange feeling that good smell of bakery in this sinister atmosphere. Thinking about bread makes me think of Paris! Oh, the delicious smell of Parisian bakeries. After the war, I will return to Paris.
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The city is idling. Garbage is removed, subways run, albeit rarely. Police checkpoints everywhere. It is impossible to travel without your passport. While Ukraine fights, Kiev is eerily calm. Despite what the media says, we believe that Kharkov is resisting despite the bombs. Why doesn’t NATO close the Ukrainian skies? Is it so difficult? Bombs fell on residential areas. Kharkov demands a humanitarian corridor. No answer for the moment. It is said that in the suburbs, the Russians hide the number of their victims by burying the unfortunate at night in mass graves. Reality, lie? Rumor becomes truth in times of war.
But Kherson fell. The Russians forced the civilians to gather in the main square as if celebrating their arrival. Taken, the radio and television began to sing the praises of the aggressors. The Zaporizhia nuclear power plant is on fire. What a summary symbol of this war: yes the war is here but the risk is for all of Europe.