A Drop in the Ocean
Being a small drop is powerful, no matter the size of the ocean
This article was originally published on my first blog at buymeacoffee.com on April 4, 2022, when the war was reaching its first 40 days out of the current 940. It was one of my first published pieces, and here are the impressions I shared at the time:
WHEN WE WAKE UP TOMORROW MORNING, April 5th [2022], we will have completed 40 days since one of the most unfortunate events of our time in history. The invasion was conducted by a nuclear autocracy, commanded by a war criminal, against a peaceful and much smaller nation that only wants to pursue the freedom to choose its own destiny.
To mark this date, I don't want to talk about politics—it has already been discussed too much by now. My point is only to share some lines about my personal experience during these 40 days.
My family had already made a plan a few days before the invasion. Living in the capital, not far from Chernobyl and the border with Belarus, it seemed feasible to have a plan to find somewhere to go as soon as the situation got out of control. So we had already packed the most basic necessities a few days before the invasion and started reaching out to acquaintances we knew in Poland.
Actually, few people in Kyiv really believed this would happen. Most people thought it was just rhetoric escalation from the dictator. Restaurants, movie theaters, and shopping malls were operating as usual. We even took our five-year-old son to dinner at the nearby mall two evenings before everything happened.
So, the morning of February 24th started like this in the outskirts of our capital:
We immediately took our pre-packed belongings, documents, cash, and the laptop I use for work, and before the morning ended, we crossed the 10 km distance between our home and the Railway Passenger Terminal, located in the city center, to catch the first train heading toward Poland.
We regretted having sold our old car months before, but it turned out to be fortunate because the trains provided much more safety than driving through roads full of checkpoints and the threat of Russian shelling. It was a tense journey, but everything went alright, and by evening we were already in Lviv. From the station, we took a van ride of about 80 km straight to the border with Poland.
I had already heard on the train that men between 18 and 60 years old would not be allowed to leave Ukraine, but we still tried to cross the border together. I had never touched a gun in my life, and I am still afraid of the slightest sound of a shot, so we hadn’t considered that I might be required to fight in a war. We failed to make a better plan for separating our family. My wife wanted to stay with me in Ukraine, but we finally agreed that the safety of our son was the highest priority, so they proceeded through the border.
Soon, the guards confirmed that I would not be allowed to leave. It was a sad moment, but at the same time, I was filled with a strong and different feeling. I felt that I was necessary to my nation.
Later, I felt I was also necessary to fight against evil and in the name of freedom. I was ready to offer my humble share of efforts, not only to save my country but also to build a better world, realizing that even a man averse to guns and war can make a contribution.
Sometimes we think that our individual role in a fight is insignificant, like a drop in the ocean. But as a Ukrainian caught in the middle of a war, I can say that being a drop in the ocean is a very powerful feeling of empowerment, capable of changing any form of injustice, discrimination, and intolerance on our planet.
Fighting on the side of justice is one of the most gratifying sensations I have ever felt.
Peace and love to all the ocean drops of the world.
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