In the Territory of Wolves

     Quick programming note. I'm beginning to post photos to an album on my G+ page. The link is here if you are interested. It'll be mostly photos/videos I've taken that weren't deemed necessary to go on the blog. I've realized that there are so many things that have become common to me that would still be interesting to other people. So you now get to see them. And now on with our irregularly scheduled blog post.


     Probably the most common question I got before I left for Ukraine in July was a variant of, "Aren't you worried about the war?" In some ways I was. The situation was tenuous as best for over a year and a half. Protesters were murdered on Maidan. A Malaysian airliner was shot down. Soldiers were dying almost daily in a war zone close enough to drive to in under a day. For the longest time, I had a terrible outlook on it. Out of sight, out of mind. But as time has gone on, I've learned exactly why that is the wrong feeling to have and what my view really should be.
      I was reading an article by Lt. Col. Allen West on Wednesday and was inspired to tell a little about my feelings of being here. Back in August I wrote a little about the war in my only political posting to date. This post may change that distinction. The military vehicles I saw on display started a change in my thinking. Seeing the bullet holes and scorch marks put the war into the most clear perspective I've seen outside of news reports.
     As a primer for those who haven't been following the war here, Luhansk and Donetsk are two large regions (similar to states) on the eastern border of Ukraine. It is roughly nine hours drive from Kiev to the border of these regions. Luhansk and Donetsk have been taken over by rebels supported by Russia. After the 2014 revolution in Maidan, the central square of Kiev, Russia incited rebellion in these areas as well as orchestrating the theft and annexation of the Crimean peninsula. Since the beginning, over eight thousand people, military and civilian, have been killed.
     There is a human cost to war (whether declared or subversive). The bullet holes and scorch marks tell the military cost. But what of the civilians, the people I'm here to serve? Daily I read about what is happening in the east of Ukraine. But when I meet someone from there, it puts into perspective what lengths a former Soviet official turned maniacal dictator will go to.
     My translator at this year's summer camp was from Mariupol, one of the southernmost cities in the Donetsk region. It's on a major route between Russian and occupied Crimea. Had Russia decided to make a land connection to Crimea, her city would have been captured and subjugated. She told me about the worries she had over her family still living there.
     Last Sunday at English club, I met a young woman who came from the east. She told me about the difficulty of finding a job in Kiev. Not having job experience can usually be gotten around in your home town. But in a big city where nobody knows you makes it much more difficult.
     A friend of mine has family who live in the areas affected by the war. Some of these relatives daily lived under the threat and/or reality of mortars destroying their villages. However, worry and stress aren't just facts of life in a war zone. They extend to even the capital city where safety is (almost) guaranteed.
     The stories go on and on. Almost everyone knows someone who is from or lives in Luhansk or Donetsk. Since this is the capital, many thousands of refugees have moved here to escape the fighting and death. However, the good news is that the fighting seems to be dying off (pardon the unintended pun). Casualty reports from the front aren't as grim as they were only a few weeks ago. I suspect that has something to do with Russia's focus on Syria and undermining US efforts there.
     That brings me to my point. With every day that goes by, I wonder how I can better answer the question, "Why go to country at war?" It's not an easy one to articulate or express. Yeah, the fighting has been reduced. But the threat is always there. If Russia chose, they could give up all pretenses and openly invade tomorrow.
     Thinking about what that fact means, here are some of my "greatest hits" I used for answering the question.

• The fighting is really far from where I'll be. 
• I'm not worried about it. 
• I feel safer in Ukraine than I do in major American cities.

     My old answers were wrong for one simple reason. What you don't know can still kill you. There are no do-overs in life; no reset button. To walk around life blissfully ignorant of the danger just nine hours away is stupid.      Ultimately, all of those are poor answers to a truly serious question. I've begun to realize that my reason for coming here, in spite of the situation, is because my certainty in life and death is stronger than any worry I have about war. I want to share that certainty through service and friendships. I believe the benefits far outweigh the potential risks. It's the same reason any missionary has when answering the call. Last year, one of the American team members at camp answered the question in this way. "Because I know what will happen to me when I die. I want you to be certain of that too." And that is exactly the right answer.