REPORT. In Paris, Ukrainian refugees arm themselves with patience while waiting for precious help and a bit of stability

A thick gray blanket surrounds Nina Senyk, all dressed in black. The forties patient for three hours at the Porte de Versailles, in the 15th arrondissement of Paris, by 4 ° C, in the company of her sister. Since Thursday March 17, the exhibition center has reserved one of its halls for the reception of Ukrainian refugees driven into exile by the Russian invasion.

Nina’s children stayed warm. “We must prevent them from getting sick”, explains that Sister Svitlana, settled in France for several years. The young woman accompanies him in the steps to obtain the European temporary protection status which will give him access to care,‘asylum seeker allowance and the exercise of a professional activity.

“She does not sleep well, she does not have the morale”, breath Svitlanawho has been hosting her 17- and 13-year-old sister and nephews for a week. “She’s tired of it all, just tired.” At 9 a.m., the doors of the “hub” of the exhibition center begin to open. Nina, who is at the start of the queue, will be able to pass today in front of the services of the prefecture of Paris. This is not the case of everyone.

The capacities of the new reception point are limited and the queue too long. Anna Strebkova, 19, and Katya Stepanova, 20, will not be able to return. They are given a summons inviting them to return at a later date. “It’s the fourth day that we’ve come to a reception point. Sometimes we’re in the rain for hours… It’s cold”, says the youngest. The girl with impeccably straightened hair was a microbiology student in Kharkiv before the war broke out. “I didn’t want to leave without my family, but my relatives asked me to take shelter.” It was on the road to exile that Anna crossed paths with Katya. A friendly crush. Since then, the students have not left each other and would like to be allocated accommodation together. “We are like kindred spirits”says Anna.

This sisterhood found in the war is what Yuliia Zhaha, 25, who only knows her boyfriend in Paris, lacks. “He supports me a lot in this ordeal, she assures. But now, I’m stuck here, I can’t go back to Ukraine.” There are indeed her boyfriend’s friends, but the language barrier is quickly felt in the exchanges.

The young Ukrainian still considers herself “privileged”. Residing in France since January, Yulia did not hear the bombardments, nor witnessed scenes of war. Before the invasion of the Russian army, the young woman worked for the civic organization VoxUkraine, in the hope of combating misinformation. So, since February 24, in front of her computer, while her spouse is at work, Yuliia tries to check the information circulating on the conflict. “It’s like a habit for me. Besides, I need to occupy my mind.” She acknowledges that exercise is not ideal for her mental health. “But I take breaks. Sometimes I go to the bakery to buy a lemon pie, and it gets better.”

Like the hundred other Ukrainians waiting at the Porte de Versailles, she needs to regularize her situation with the administration. Present on the territory for three months, she can no longer return home because of the war and hopes to obtain, too, the European status of temporary protection.

This arbitration is carried out by the prefecture, which occupies a quarter of the Parisian “hub”. The French Office for Immigration and Integration (Ofii) also issues the ADA card there, allowing access to allowances intended for asylum seekers. The rest of the building is managed by the NGO France Terre d’Asile and by the French Office for the Protection of Refugees and Stateless Persons (Ofpra), with the joint work of several associations, institutions and the City of Paris.

In this huge space partitioned off by removable walls, the refugees are welcomed with a sweet snack and hot drinks. Interviews are organized by the twenty employees of France Terre d’Asile, in the company of a dozen volunteer translators, to allocate housing solutions. The “hub” also offers to accommodate around 500 people on camp beds, but only a few dozen places were filled overnight from Thursday to Friday.

In a corner of the “hub”, colorful drawings are displayed on the walls. “These are just those accumulated since yesterday”, marvels Aurélie, 39 years old. An animator for the town hall of Paris, she volunteered to take care of the youngest while their families try to find a solution to their precarious situation. “Some children are stressedshe acknowledges. Yesterday, one of them, sitting on a chair, was crying. He must have been 12-13 years old. The older ones have seen things, they understand what’s going on.”

Beside them, the refugees wait for assignments. France Terre d’asile, which works with the prefectures, offers six destinations throughout France. Mainly hotels. Marisa, a French teacher in Ukraine, would have liked to be closer to Toulouse, where her eldest daughter has resided since February 21. “She knew the war was coming and didn’t want to stay any longer,” explains the 50-year-old. But it is not possible to choose.

After “one night too many”Marisa also decided to hit the road last week, accompanied by her two other children: Anastasie, 16, and Sophie, 19. While the two sisters were in the hallway of their apartment in the heart of kyiv, a bombardment occurred in the middle of the night. “There was an explosion, we jumped. The little one screamed. She shouted at me to come and hide in the hallway, away from the windows. She was shaking all over”says Marisa.

“Before the explosion, Anastasia didn’t want to leave kyiv, but that was one night too many. We hid in a parking lot next to the house because we didn’t have a cellar. But we can’t spend all of our nights in a parking lot. So we left.”

Marisa, Ukrainian refugee

at franceinfo

We had to cross Ukraine, Poland, then Germany, before arriving in France. “We haven’t slept for two days”, says Sophie, who holds the leash of Nika, a little 11-year-old dog, on the roads because of the war, too. The girl looks forward to their housing assignment, so she can seek medical help. His diabetes also motivated their departure. “In kyiv, there was no more insulin for me.” At 11 a.m., the verdict falls: the three women will take a bus the same day, heading for the suburbs of Caen, in Normandy. “It’s great, you’ll see, there’s the beach”, exclaims one of the volunteers. The trio does not respond. It’s not really time for sunbathing.