Among the people of Lviv, 'they will not bomb us' - THE REPORTAGE

"The Russians will not attack us, they are afraid: we are the land of Bandera".

Liubor is 20 years old, the suspenders, the bow tie.

With his two friends Oleg and Ilya he drinks tea at the Grand Café Leopolis, amidst red drapes, ceramics and gypsy music.

People parade on the market square and the war, here in Lviv, seems just a drunken nightmare.

Were it not for the sirens, the carousel in the shelters, the checkpoints with the Frisian horses and the nervous soldiers who protect the city.

Lviv is the stronghold of the west: Habsburg face, Ukrainian heart.

It is now a capital by chance.

With pieces of the state apparatus on standby, ready to take action if Kiev falls, and the cream of world diplomacy busy rebuilding missions.

Lviv (in Ukrainian) is this and much more, a crossroads of everything: refugees on the run, headquarters of the resistance, hub of European aid, den of Russian spies and saboteurs (they say), free port for returning exhausted journalists from the front.

Here you can breathe a very different air than in the rest of the country.

Bars and restaurants are open, as are pharmacies, supermarkets and shops.

Only alcohol is off-limits: a (probably wise) decision by the city authorities.

But a lot is found the same.

Lviv is now a kind of Central European Casablanca, no doubt one day it will be at the center of a novel from which they will make a film.

The plot can already be glimpsed.

Only the ending is missing.

Because the conflict is approaching and on all the lips of the city run the same questions, the same anxieties.

Will the war overwhelm us?

"

Diplomats meet in hotel lobbies closed to the public, to enter you need passwords.

You can find those too, if you know how to look for them.

The embassies of Brazil, Hungary, Estonia, Lithuania and India are reconstituting their activities here.

Italy and France represent the G7.

Great Britain, the USA, Canada, Japan and Germany, for example, did not dare to put their nose here and operate from Poland.

Spain did the same.

In short, being in Lviv is not taken for granted: the mere presence is a political message.

And one day they will come to terms, depending on the ending.

Diplomats meet in hotel lobbies closed to the public, to enter you need passwords.

You can find those too, if you know how to look for them.

The embassies of Brazil, Hungary, Estonia, Lithuania and India are reconstituting their activities here.

Italy and France represent the G7.

Great Britain, the USA, Canada, Japan and Germany, for example, did not dare to put their nose here and operate from Poland.

Spain did the same.

In short, being in Lviv is not taken for granted: the mere presence is a political message.

And one day they will come to terms, depending on the ending.

Italy and France represent the G7.

Great Britain, the USA, Canada, Japan and Germany, for example, did not dare to put their nose here and operate from Poland.

Spain did the same.

In short, being in Lviv is not taken for granted: the mere presence is a political message.

And one day they will come to terms, depending on the ending.

Italy and France represent the G7.

Great Britain, the USA, Canada, Japan and Germany, for example, did not dare to put their nose here and operate from Poland.

Spain did the same.

In short, being in Lviv is not taken for granted: the mere presence is a political message.

And one day they will come to terms, depending on the ending.

The apprehension for now comes from the north.

What will the Belarusian dictator Alexander Lukashenko do?

Just today he ruled out entering the conflict because "it would be a gift to the West".

But his promises are worth less than a sailor's, and 'open intelligence' accounts describe suspicious movements of his troops.

In the city, in the meantime, we get organized.

Stepan 'Stefko' Perfeniuk coordinates the activities of the Dykyi Dim (Wild Soul) cultural center.

"The night before the outbreak of the war we had a party here, techno until the wee hours," he says.

"We all woke up drunk and boom, we're at war. So we got organized right away."

So off with the subwoofers and into the mattresses.

Now they host refugees.

"At least 140 people have passed through here since February 24 and now we are gearing up to assist a hundred in the next few days."

All self-financed or through donations.

And as always, most of the fugitives are women or children, coming from the east of the country.

Here, the east.

We often talk about the difference between the two branches of Ukraine, one more nationalist and one more prone to Russia.

Maybe, in the past.

But Putin's tanks have swept everything away.

"There is no more east and west".

Oleg from the Grand Café is sure of it.

"We are a unique people, now there is only Ukraine and we help each other as we can", he assures us.

All three joined the territorial militias.

Not necessarily to shoot the enemy.

"I'm going on patrol," says Ilya.

"It is our homeland, who can help it but us?".

The outside world, of course.

And on this they all agree.

The EU and NATO should do more.

"Putin is like Hitler, he will not stop at Ukraine: we are defending all of Europe", scratches Liubor.

His is a very widespread opinion.

Everywhere.

Yet, not even in the 'nationalist' Lviv, always accused by Moscow of being the black soul of Ukrainian fascism, no one hates the Russians.

They only have it with Putin.

"We don't hate them and they don't hate us," Stefko swears as he moves packages of aid.

"I have many Russian friends and they are just uninformed. I assure you, they have made them into zombies."

It snows lightly outside.

A melancholy jazz is played in the street.

Lviv awaits.