#orikhiv

And it's... Strange.

Like this one is a road we would walk to get into the center of the town, it was probably made next to a bakery that had been always there, "Marichka" store that sold incredibly tasty cakes. We always went in before visiting our friends to get some nice treat for a dessert.

That one is the interstate road. The caved-in roof housed a vet shop. Next to it is visible a cafe and a spa, I think, I don't really remember anymore, never visited it really. But next to it was a supermarket that was always, always full of people. In COVID, we would go there late at night, because that store worked 24/7, so there would have been less of a risk. And it worked - we still haven't got COVID. That store was always so clean, so well cared for. I remember when it first opened, I was still at school, I remember going there with my late grandma. To the side of the road in the photo, was a square where flowers were sold. And a small farmer's markets, where we have bought potatoes and onions from a man, Mykhaylo, who was killed with his wife in their own yard, preparing for lunch. This was the road I took every week to Zaporizhzhia for Uni. It was the intersection I was learning to drive on with traffic lights - it was the first road that had them in our town - just shows you how peaceful my town really was.

Every building had a story. In my dreams, I walk the streets, whole and not ruined. I see people that will never ever see again. I think "oh, it would've been nice to visit that ceramic shop, the plates there were great", and then remember I never will. I think of the bazar, remembering how I had to manoeuvre around rain puddles, how slippery the main entrance was in winter. How it smelled of Christmas trees in December, that were sold nearby. And coffee, that was brewed in the back of the van.

The river. Our beautiful river, with swans and frogs and storks. It had been so peaceful, away from the roads. In summer, children were playing on the playgrounds there, teen-agers were kayaking down the river. It was blazingly hot, but near the river it had been just a tiny bit cooler.

My home was violently taken from me. And when others leave their home in search of a better life, or as a part of growing up - they have a choice. We did not. And it hurts. It's like mourning a loss that will never heal. It feels like it's fine at times, but then you remember some benign detail, and it's heartbreaking to know you will never experience that peace again.

That's what deputy mayor of the city of Orikhiv, Svitlana Mandrych ,wrote:

And resident of Orikhiv,that also witnessed it all:

#UCRANIA Mapa Situación Militar 30.SEP.23 Rusia avanza al Norte de #Bakhmut /#AFU al Sur de #Orikhiv

(Updates may be sporadic over the weekend, I have family coming into town.)

Under the cut:

Ukraine’s army boasted of territorial gains near the strategically vital southern city of Kherson on Wednesday as Nato allies delivered new air defence systems in the wake of Russia’s recent missile attacks across the country.

More than 90,000 Russian fighters have been listed as “irrecoverable” military losses since the beginning of the war in Ukraine, according to a report by the Russian media project iStories.

Russian troops struck the central market in Avdiivka in the morning, killing at least seven people and wounding eight, Donetsk Oblast Governor Pavlo Kyrylenko reported on Oct. 12 [Updated numbers have the number of dead at 9.]

Ukraine says Russian forces continue assault operations, with Orikhiv in the  Zaporizhzhia oblast hit by more than 300 shells Wednesday

Power has been restored to Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant, which is surrounded by Russian troops, according to the head of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA)

To all my Ukrainians - I know you know you can go through it. We all endured even worse, and it's just a time that needs to be survived. It happened before, and, unfortunately, it may happen again, because we know no one in the world cares about us, so we will need to care for ourselves. But you will be fine.

Remember I was posting about half-damaged city center? Where only roofs were gone? Well. This is the city center of Orikhiv now.

From this ⬇️ to that ⬆️

Watching new photos from Orikhiv is painful. It looks almost like it did before - calm, a bit grey as everything is in winter, but the destruction is visible.

The anti-drone nets. Glass-less windows. Empty streets. Usually this close to holidays the town was bursting. Kids running around the square Christmas tree, Christmas market, festive decorations on shops front and inside them, the smell of cold winter, oranges and hot coffee.

Now, it's forbidden to enter the city because ruzzians drones hunt civilians.

But once, it was beautiful. We had new, radiant fountains that coloured rainbow in sunlight, the main streets were packed with cars, people were roaming the farmer markets, you could meet old acquaintances by accident at every time of the day, and just... Living. Without fear. Without a constant state of anxiety.

I took this photo on the stairs of the building that is no longer there - the post office. The post office was a military target for ruzzians apparently. Pre-covid times, the end of the summer, blazing heat of Ukrainian step, the same street the previous photos had been made, just a little down the road. It's literally unrecognisable now.

My home town is unrecognisable. I lived there for 27 years. I can't recognise parts of it that before I knew like the back of my hand. Is this the building where that bakery was? Or is it the place where my clothes were altered? Or is it my grand-aunt house? Who knows now.

I remember watching a documentary some time ago about hurricanes in the states. How when the surge comes, it will be close to impossible to understand which street is where because it will be covered by water, the usual landmarks washed away.