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'Now we are like one family': Despite past tensions, Poles open their homes to Ukrainians in wake of war


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KRAKOW, Poland – They’ve lived together for only a week and don’t speak the same language, but Marcin Browarski and his new Ukrainian houseguests already joke about who makes better food. 

Space for cooking is tight in the tiny, Soviet-era flat, which Browarski and his 10-year-old son share with three Ukrainian refugees. Cooking is done on a hot plate, and whatever doesn’t fit in the fridge is stored on the chilly patio outside. 

Despite the cozy quarters, refugee Viktoria Zvierievska superbly executed her Ukrainian borscht within days of arriving. The following week, it was Browarski’s turn, with Polish schnitzel on the menu.

“Now we are like one family,” said Browarski, 46, a manager in the steel industry.

Since Russia invaded Ukraine in February, thousands of Polish families have opened their homes to Ukrainians seeking refuge. More than 4 million Ukrainians have left their homeland, 2 million of whom went to Poland. Many moved farther west, but hundreds of thousands want to stay close to Ukraine in hopes of returning soon.

What makes the warm Polish welcome remarkable is the nations’ history with each other. Toward the end of World War II, Poles and Ukrainians killed each other at the same border Ukrainians are crossing. Ukrainian nationalists killed at least 100,000 Poles, then Poles retaliated and killed more than 20,000 Ukrainians. 

Since then, and especially after Russia invaded eastern Ukraine in 2014, more Ukrainians have come to Poland to work, often for less money, causing resentment among some Poles. Before February, Ukrainians were the largest foreign national population in Poland, many working in service industries. 

The nations' bitter history seems to have faded. As residents of a former Soviet satellite, many Poles said they sympathize with Ukrainians, who, in turn, said they have been overwhelmed by the Poles’ generosity.

“The border is there, but it doesn’t feel that there is so much separating us at this point,” said Maciek Marzec, 32, a Pole in Krakow who has arranged housing for Ukrainian families. “We share the same pain, being close to the Soviet Union and Russia. We know who the common enemy is, and that brings us closer.” 

'It was natural': Polish father didn't hesitate to host refugees 

Browarski, the steel manager, lives in Krakow’s Nowa Huta neighborhood, which was built by the Soviets in 1949. It was conceived as the socialist ideal of a city, named for and constructed next to a massive steel mill that employed most of its residents. It’s a common spot for Ukrainian refugees to land.

Nowa Huta’s Soviet urban design of wide boulevards and blocks of orderly cream-colored apartment buildings, each one with its own school, grocery shops and amenities on the ground floor, has worked well for Ukrainians fleeing Russian bombs. 

Browarski grew up here in the waning days of the Soviet Union, learning Russian and Polish in school. He said he has always felt a connection to Ukraine and empathy for its people and has several Ukrainian friends and co-workers.

Once the war started, he immediately wanted to offer his flat. His son, Stefan, agreed to give up his room to help.

“It was natural,” said Browarski, who is divorced. “It was also a way to show my son the importance of helping people.” 

He, along with many Poles, are concerned that their country, even though it's a NATO member, could be attacked next.

“Something like that can happen to any country,” Browarski said.

Zvierievska, 40, and her sister, Nadia Kirilyuk, 43, both of Dnipro in eastern Ukraine, came to Browarski’s apartment through a Facebook connection. 

After traveling four days to get out of Ukraine, they arrived in Lublin, Poland, on March 9 by train. They tried to find housing there, then in Warsaw, then in Krakow’s city center. Nothing was available, so they ended up in Nowa Huta. 

Zvierievska left her husband, adult son and family cat, Sausage. Asked what the past week felt like, she said, “My soul hurts.”

But, she said, “I feel good because I can count on the Polish people.” 

Nightly chats with tea, cookies and Google Translate 

She tears up at the mention of her family. Her son is a firefighter, cleaning up the rubble and extinguishing fires from Russian bombs. Her husband is a retired police officer. She did not want to share their names out of concern for their safety.

Even though she is a refugee living out of suitcase, Kirilyuk works full-time remotely as a manager for a network of cosmetic stores in Ukraine. Work occupies her days, along with studying Polish.

After working a full day, she and her sister study vocabulary words online and from a workbook volunteers gave them at the train station when they arrived in Poland. 

Yulia Litkovska, 22, who worked selling flowers in Irpin, a suburb of Kyiv, moved into the apartment a few days after Kirilyuk and Zvierievska. 

She sleeps on the couch in Browarski’s living room, while the two sisters sleep on a fold-out couch in one bedroom. Browarski and his son share the other bedroom.

Litkovska’s cheery disposition and smiles mask a tumultuous life. She said that after her mother and brother died in a house fire in 2018, she moved in with her sister, who is still in Ukraine. She said that once the bombs began to demolish the buildings next door and shake her own flat, she knew she had to go. 

“I was a witness to the war,” she said, putting her hands at the side of her head and shaking them to illustrate the effects of the shelling. “It is very difficult for me to express.” 

She cleans rooms in a Krakow hostel with Zvierievska –  jobs Browarski helped arrange.

Zvierievska, who is single with no children, said she hopes she can find better work and build a life in Poland. After managing retail stores in Ukraine for more than 22 years, she will have to start over, she said. Kirilyuk, her sister, plans to return to Ukraine as soon as it is safe.

All five in Browarski’s apartment work different schedules, but the brightest part of their day is shared in nightly chats over a pot of tea and a plate of cookies. Google Translate is on everyone’s phone and used frequently, kind of a live text thread between them

One night, Kirilyuk listened to Polish lessons on her computer while Litkovska hung out with Stefan and his friend as the boys played video games. Zvierievska cleared dishes off the kitchen counter to make room for the hot plate. As soon as her borscht was ready, she scooped some into a bowl for Browarski. 

Despite the war, she is thankful to end up here. Browarski, she said, “takes care of us.”

Actually, Browarski said in appreciation of Zvierievska’s cooking, “she takes care of me.” 

Katelyn Ferral ,an investigative reporter for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, taught English to college students in Ukraine 10 years ago. She was on assignment in the Ukraine region to cover the conflict for the Paste BN NETWORK. Email her at kferral@gannett.com. Follow her on Twitter at @katelynferral.