Alyona

“

It all started with a call from my uncle, who lives in Canada: “The war has begun.” The first couple of days were full of uncertainty, then there was electricity, water, and heating cut-off, and in early March, the strong explosions began. We did not give up. We wrapped ourselves in warm clothes and collected the rainwater – at that time there were queues to get it. Drinking water was sometimes distributed near the hospital – we took it for ourselves and shared it with our neighbors, the old ladies who had difficulty walking. When the gas was turned off, we began to cook our meals over the fire. There was no Internet or communication, either.

We slept in the corridor. We heard the loud explosions around us because the Russians were trying to seize the regional hospital nearby. All the street fights also took place around our house.

However, during all that time, I cried only twice.

The first time was on March 9, when I heard extremely powerful explosions. Then many houses around us burned down – so did our house, but only a half of it. But the high-rise building opposite us burned down completely, the firefighters could not get to it because the street was blocked by the accumulation of tanks.

My father is a pastor in the Protestant church, so after that, he offered us to move there. One morning, I heard the explosion that causes the windows to get blown out. My first thought was, “I’ve just cleaned there.” We went down to the basement, and that was the second time

I cried because my cat, named Persyk, ran away.

Fortunately, we found him later. Dad got wounded by shrapnel in his leg and face.

We found out about the evacuation by accident – we quickly packed up and left. We had to pass through the roadblocks every 50 meters, we were thoroughly checked there. They checked whether the men had the tattoos, and they checked my mother’s hands and mine to see whether we were shooting. When we reached the relatively safe place, the first thing that surprised us the most was the silence. I had no Internet access this whole time, and I thought that everywhere in Ukraine the situation was the same as in Mariupol. The second thing we were thinking of was a shower after two weeks without one.

I adore shooting videos, so I started filming everything that happened in Mariupol. I wanted to show it to my relatives because the words cannot convey how it was. My phone was old, and even though we had the power banks, I turned it off immediately after taking a shot. For me, this is a kind of creative project.

These videos capture the moment and are a reminder of the past.

Although I don't rewatch the footage from Mariupol, I would rather keep it as an artifact.

Now I am in America, I have the opportunity to study here, and I plan to study the art of directing. I was inspired by the fact that many world media such as The Guardian and Independent TV, published my videos. I dream of the end of the war, of people being more tolerant to each other, and of my Dad being able to leave the country.