Russia-Ukraine War
"I asked Nestia what she needed. She looked at me and said, 'I just want to go home.'"
Yana Kogan, 25, a native of Ukraine, knew as soon as war broke out in her home country that she intended to stabilize and help.
Thus, in Dror Israel's delegation, she assisted and cared for children who were ejected from their bombed-out homes.
In the nursery, between the rubble and the field beds, an unusual connection was made between her and a 14-year-old refugee
Jana Cogan
26/03/2022
Saturday, 26 March 2022, 02:43 Updated: 02:50
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In the video: The number of refugees fleeing Ukraine crossed the 2.5 million mark (Photo: Reuters)
I remember my flight to Israel, when I immigrated from Ukraine.
I left a country I really liked.
A city I was happy to call home.
The beautiful neighborhood, the most beautiful central square in the country.
The yard with the fruit trees my mother would send me to pick and eat some cherries and apples.
A childhood home that I loved so much.
The city of Kharkiv.
Until now they have not really heard of this city in the country and now it is ringing familiar to you.
Not as a beautiful city, but as a bombed-out city.
Hurt.
"Barbarian attack," wrote one website.
"Humanitarian disaster," described another.
My mom and I stare at the screen, read the newspapers and the heart, like the city, explodes.
The beautiful large expanse in the city center has been deleted.
boom.
A neighbor told us that the house where I was born suffered a direct hit.
boom.
The garden was destroyed and with it all the fruit trees.
boom.
All my and my mother's childhood experiences were simply erased.
Boom Boom Boom.
Very quickly it became clear to me that I had to do something.
Happily I did not have to look far.
As a member of the Dror Israel movement, I immediately had nowhere to turn.
This movement, the alumni movement of working and learning youth, has experience in providing assistance in war zones.
They were in Kosovo, addressing refugees from Syria and of course knowing how to help the people of the north in the Second Lebanon War.
Immediately after the outbreak of the current war, Dror Israel's pioneer teams went to a number of countries bordering Ukraine to understand the needs that arise from the territory in which we can help.
The need was immediately identified - to address mothers crossing the border with their children, without the fathers left behind.
Four million children.
Is it even perceived?
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Jana and Nestia (Photo: Courtesy of the photographers)
And so, I went back to my homeland.
almost.
Close.
Not to the country itself but to its people.
So close to my childhood home and so far away.
I did not know what to expect.
What will I see?
Will I recognize anyone?
Will they recognize me?
We ended up at the Expo complex in Warsaw, the city's exhibition grounds, only that instead of a car show there were refugees, masses of refugees on masses of folding beds, but not in black and white, as we are used to seeing, but in color, like me and you.
With clothes like mine, shoes like mine, hairstyles like mine, faces like mine.
But the bag is small, and the face is sad.
Those who do not cry look sore.
Those who are not hugged look lonely.
And the sound, I have a hard time remembering it.
A kind of anxious silence with touches of crying on the sides of the room.
Occasionally one hears someone screaming broken cries, probably from news that came to me from her bombed-out country.
our.
I walked between the beds in the dark expo and at the end of it we discovered a room with a small light shining on the great darkness.
Like an oasis - a colorful room.
Became the opposite of the black beds in the great hall - the nursery.
This room shocked me.
From the feeling of hardship.
Reminded me why I came.
The colorful room was full of toys and paintings.
Some radiated optimism, others were full of pain.
I shook myself again.
And so are my friends and girlfriends to the delegation.
We unloaded the toys we had brought, put on the blue vests of Dror Israel and reminded ourselves that we did not come to cry next to them, but that we came to help.
And so, like the familiar transition from Remembrance Day to Independence Day, we began to rejoice.
Music, songs, dances.
At first alone then a girl joined, and another boy.
Then some more, and more.
How quickly children return to being children.
My heart, burning with pain, suddenly once in joy.
Inside this small room we managed to create a world of joy, of love, with music of laughter and singing.
With hugs.
No, no hugs - cuddles.
Jana and Nestia (Photo: Courtesy of the photographers)
Quiet children, who did not want to dance or talk, sad children, some with only tights on their bodies, who had a hard time trusting, underwent a process within a few hours.
Not because of the conversations, the treatment or the game.
The atmosphere that was in the nursery is an atmosphere of home, of love and of security because every guide who came there wholeheartedly and wholeheartedly in this little nursery.
You could feel in the air that people just love you there for who you are whether you are blond, gypsy, cute or a little violent, anyway you will see attentive and loving eyes and get a warm hug.
It was healing trauma with love.
With the hours and days, a personal connection developed between us.
With the little ones we would do craziness and creations, with the big ones we would watch series and talk about the war and what they would do when it was over.
Each of us fell in love with some of the kids.
Nestia, 14, is the girl who caught me the most in camp.
She has three siblings, black hair and the saddest eyes I have ever met.
She told me about life in Ukraine, about her good friends, Nestia Welda, that she was afraid of not seeing them again, about her home that she knew that at least in the near future she would not return to and that she would have to start a new life here.
She is a very mature girl for her age, takes care of her siblings and every time I manage to convince her to come she goes back to being a girl for a few moments, until she is called again and stands up to help mom.
On the penultimate day, I asked her - what do you need?
Do you want me to try to take care of you from Israel?
Play?
chocolate?
Tell me, anything.
She looked at me with her sad eyes and said to me "I just want to go home".
Yana Kogan and a Ukrainian refugee (Photo: courtesy of the people photographed)
Such a legitimate request, which should be small.
A tired 14-year-old girl who is tired and wants to go home, but this is the most painful and in fact the only request I have heard from her in our time together.
The next day, just before we left and were replaced by another delegation from Dror Israel, we received the news that Nestia and her entire family had found an apartment in Poland and would leave with us.
I have no words to tell you about the sense of well-being it brought on me.
On the way back home my heart kept beating.
In my life, I felt like that day when we immigrated to Israel.
Wondering about the house I left behind.
About Nestia and all the kids.
Their mothers.
Long before landing it was clear to me that I must continue to work for them.
To my delight, Dror Israel did not disappoint and has already announced plans to support hotels in Israel.
Of course I signed up.
I wish I did not have to travel.
I wish I did not have to see the sights and hear the cries of grief and the sobs of loss.
But how glad I am that I had the privilege of being there for them and how proud I am of my movement and my country for all that has been done to help and assist.
Who will give and we will always be privileged to be on the giving side.
Nestia and I are still in touch.
This week we talked in a video call.
She thanks everyone, and that her new home is lovely.
Confirmed.
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