I Hope Your Family is Safe – Anya Tsaruk  

My cousin Maksym and his mother Iryna at their home in Khmelnytskyi.

‘I hope your family is safe.’
I’ve heard these words so many times since the beginning of the Russian full-scale invasion of my homeland, and I still don’t know how to reply. What is safety in a country at war? 

Artist : Anya Tsaruk 

Series : I Hope Your Family is Safe 

Website / Instagram

My grandmother Maria holds a chick. Karpivtsi village, Khmelnytskyi region.
A destroyed building in Khmelnytskyi city centre.
My friend Yevhenii, who now serves in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, rests in the kitchen of his mother’s flat during his short vacation away from duty. Khmelnytskyi.

I was born and raised in Ukraine and left my country nine years ago — first for Poland, and later for Germany. Since then, I have never felt the urge to return as strongly as I do today. To see how my homeland has changed. To challenge the oversimplified portrayal of Ukraine and its people as mere victims. What is my Ukraine today?

I can’t find words, and I am looking for visual hints. A car destroyed at the frontline, trenches where my dad underwent military training, a wedding suit and mourning scarves hanging side-by-side at the market. I hear that our neighbour’s brother was killed on the frontline and that my uncle joined the Military Forces. I see a black-and-white photograph of my childhood friend in the alley of fallen defenders, accompanied by a remembrance candle. 

A windshield of a car that was destroyed on the frontline. Khmelnytskyi.
Kamila with the “Best Actress” award for her part in “The Snow Queen” play.
A public beach on a Sunday afternoon in Khmelnytskyi – a city in the West of Ukraine.

Here, death is at every corner, and yet, so is life. A full public beach on a Sunday afternoon; a friend’s newborn baby; my grandma’s little chicks. Ukrainians fall in love, adopt dogs, volunteer, and celebrate Christmas. There is love, there is joy, and there is beauty that coexists with enormous pain and tragedy. I see my people in all their resilience, dignity, and desire to be free.

In my country, filled with trauma and torn by the war, I feel as alive as anywhere else. I am unsafe because of Russian rockets flying over my head. I am safe because it is my home. 

My friend Kristina. Khmelnytskyi.
Trenches on the outskirts of Khmelnytskyi where my dad underwent military training at the beginning of the Russian full-scale invasion. A year and a half later, the blue and yellow flowers started blooming there. Khmelnytskyi.
Pokrovsky Nunnery in Kyiv, a view from my friend’s flat.
My friends Nastya and Pavlo in Kyiv during his short vacation.
Khmelnytskyi Market: Ukrainian traditional wedding towels (rushnyky) and a wedding suit hanging alongside the black mourning scarves and fake flowers for the graves.

© Anya Tsaruk – All rights reserved

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