1,982 kilometres

By Assia Satella and Markiian Ferenchuk

Just five years ago, I thought it was almost impossible for a Ukrainian to get to England. However, if I were to meet my fifteen-year-old self now and tell him that I’m studying at a British university and have been here for over four years, he’d say, ‘That’s a load of rubbish.’

I’m now nineteen, and in October I’ll be turning twenty! Even now, it’s still hard to believe that I’ve spent my teenage years outside Ukraine, having been here since May 2022. It all began with a pair of frightened young eyes, an airport, and a sheet of paper bearing my mother’s name. Clambering into the car together — my mum, my younger brother, our sponsor Claire and I — we set off on a journey that continues to this day.

A new, unknown world opened up before me — driving on the left, London’s skyscrapers in the distance, my first words in English to a real Englishwoman. And Claire understood me! It seemed that several years of private English lessons had finally paid off. A mixture of confusion, slight apprehension and curiosity made for an unforgettable journey to a house about which we knew nothing.

Upon arriving in a picturesque village near the town of Taunton in Somerset, we settled into a separate house beside our hosts’ home, connected to the main building by a glass tunnel. It was a new and unique experience, as we were living in a house that had served as a stable in the Middle Ages and now offered a panoramic view of the grove. Our hosts’ home is an ancient farmstead, enveloped in lilacs and vines, built as far back as the 15th century.

Over the next few days, we settled into our surroundings and got to know a family of fellow Ukrainians living nearby. It was here that I met my first friend in Britain, with whom I was due to attend the same school. I was also extremely surprised to find that the artist Antonina Matviienko was living with this family; she turned out to be a kind person who was open to making new friends.

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A few weeks later, my first friend abroad and I arrived at the secondary school for a tour. It was incredible — at first glance, the school didn’t look like a school at all. A huge playground, school uniforms, separate buildings for each subject — everything looked new and unlike anything I’d seen before, as Ukrainian schools look completely different.

As the deputy headmaster showed us round the school, I noticed that we were catching the attention of all the pupils who were in their lessons. Their curious glances met my own darting eyes as we scrutinised one another, from the black shoes on every pupil’s feet right up to the curls and locks of hair on their heads. It felt as though they knew that new pupils from Ukraine were due to arrive at the school.

A few days later, I was already sitting at my desk. A completely new language, changing classrooms for every lesson, different pupils in every subject – it was all quite a shock for someone who’d only ever had lessons in two classrooms back in Ukraine. On top of all that, I struggled to understand many of the teachers’ accents and had to make the transition from Year 9 to Year 10.

All these factors left me in shock and at a loss as to what was going on around me. Fortunately, I was able to adapt quickly, thanks to the teachers and, to my great surprise, my classmates, who were always keen to chat with me and make friends, regardless of how ‘cool’ they were considered to be. I was given a warm welcome, which meant that by the end of the school year I was already confidently applying the knowledge I’d gained in Ukraine to the tedious English homework assignments.

Over the summer, I got to know Ukrainians from the surrounding area and the town itself. We all became friends quickly because we were united by common experiences — homesickness, exploring new surroundings, and adapting to a new world without knowing how long we would be staying. Among these Ukrainians, I found friends who supported me on my difficult journey whilst I was in Taunton. Some of them became my closest friends and are among the best people I have ever met. We remain close to this day.

Throughout my final two academic years at school, I prepared for the exams that would determine which college I could get into. However, alongside this, I continued to integrate into English society. During this period, I began to realise that, despite the support of those around me, life wasn’t getting any easier, as communicating with the English was becoming more difficult.

This was because we were very different — whilst I was getting to know people, I began to feel like a friend to the locals, but because I did not fully understand their mindset and was not yet fluent in the language, I felt as though I didn’t belong there. Despite constant words of encouragement, I felt that these words were empty.

Because of this, I realised that I should get closer to my fellow countrymen, who would understand me just as I would understand them. It was not an easy period in my life — exams were just around the corner, I was constantly studying, and I was homesick for the Ukrainian Carpathians. Despite everything, the year passed quite quickly, and I have some wonderful memories of it too.

Realising this both inspired me to have faith in the future and gave rise to fear, as I did not yet know or understand whether I would remain Ukrainian if things continued in this way. Would home no longer feel like home? Would the forests in the mountains no longer feel familiar, their place taken by the green British hills?

Despite these worries, I carried on with my life. I managed to pass my exams and get into the college of my choice. We moved right into the town of Taunton itself, this time into our own rented house, having expressed our gratitude to the sponsors who had welcomed strangers into their home.

I was able to make new Ukrainian friends outside Taunton — I started travelling to nearby Exeter, giving free rein to my youthful energy, walking around all day at weekends and exploring new places. This was a time when I began to interact with lots of new people, both at college and outside it.

I joined the Association of Ukrainians in Devon, attending their events from time to time, keeping in touch with fellow Ukrainians and maintaining my connection with Ukraine. This was a period when I truly matched native speakers in terms of my language skills and sometimes even surpassed them.

I realised that, although I had become part of English society — and aspects of it had become an integral part of me — I had not forgotten that I was Ukrainian. My love for Ukraine had become, and remains, far greater than it was before Muscovy’s full-scale invasion.

I began to study Ukrainian culture, and my main focus became Ukrainian song, language and poetry. I did not simply set about studying and reinterpreting songs by classic Ukrainian artists about whom I had previously known nothing; rather, I explored their history and developed a deeper understanding of the struggle against aggression that lay behind the lyrics, behind their beautiful meaning, behind the sheet of paper. This transformed my understanding of Ukraine and my attitude towards it. This understanding began to bear fruit.

At the same time, I began to doubt whether my thoughts were right. The main question I am still grappling with is one of morality. Sometimes, my heart is torn by doubt: is it right to praise and love Ukraine without even being there? Knowing that I am thousands of kilometres from home, safe from the bombings while thousands of soldiers are dying every day, I ask myself: am I really in the right place? Shouldn’t I also be sharing in the suffering of the people in Ukraine? Have I become too detached from the current realities of Ukraine by becoming so accustomed to life in England?

My answer to this question is my goal — to study in Britain and, armed with the knowledge I’ve gained, return to Ukraine to use that knowledge to help my motherland prosper. However, my anxieties still won’t leave me, because there’s a sense of uncertainty about the future; I don’t know if I’ll even be able to return to a free Ukraine.

At the same time, the question of settling down also adds fuel to the fire. Having been here for four years now, I’ve started to put down roots in England. My sense of home has changed — when I return to Taunton for the holidays, I feel a gentle warmth glowing in my heart. The familiar bridge over the river, my quiet local canal, the familiar flowers in the park – I feel that I am in the right place.

The last time I was in Ukraine, old, warm memories flashed before my eyes. Despite this, lying on my old bed, I felt like a guest. The view from the window at night was not the one I had grown used to. Realising this made me feel a little sad; for me, the gardens and hills of Somerset have also become home and bring me happiness.

Sometimes I wonder whether it’s worth leaving home again and starting all over in the future. Perhaps I should marry a Ukrainian woman here, start a family and live a quiet, peaceful life? Yet that sense of nostalgia left me with memories of my old home, of the misty Carpathians, of the broad mountain trails, which are forever etched in my heart. I realised that wherever I am, that is where my home is. Wherever I live, that will be my home, but my homeland will always hold a special place in my heart.

With this vision in mind, I applied to university. I realised that if I truly wanted to achieve something greater – not just my personal goals but also goals for the sake of the Ukrainian dream — I needed a high-quality education and the opportunity to meet like-minded people who could help me reach my goal.

This year, I tried to join the society’s committee, but I didn’t manage to win the election. However, I’m not giving up or despairing over the defeat, as this isn’t a loss but a learning experience. The disappointment passed quickly, and the experience has inspired me to become an even more active participant in the Ukrainian movement so that I can join the committee next year.

I recently began working with a local councillor who is actively involved in supporting Ukrainians and promoting their recognition in Britain. Thanks to him and the efforts of many others, the cities of Bristol and Odesa became partner cities in time for Ukraine’s Independence Day. This is a major step towards cooperation and strengthening ties between Ukraine and the United Kingdom.

The first official exchange of expertise took place two days after the agreement was signed — two opera singers, a violinist, a pianist and a concert presenter travelled from Odesa. I managed to meet many active members of the community, which took me another step forward and helped strengthen my connection with Ukraine.

In addition to this, on Independence Day and a few days later, I performed in front of an audience, singing a Ukrainian song. I am extremely proud of this, as not everyone would have the courage to sing in public. I believe that this courage and my active involvement make me who I am as a Ukrainian and a Hutsul, and I am proud of that.

Generally speaking, I’m glad to live and study in the United Kingdom. I have many things here that I didn’t have in Ukraine — reliable friends, people who are ready to support me in times of trouble, and a better financial situation than I had in Ukraine, which means I don’t have to work in the fields or tend to livestock every day.

Despite this, Ukraine remains one of my top priorities in life, even though I am not there. Despite the difficulties of life in Ukraine, my love for my homeland remains in my heart, and I am really looking forward to the moment when I can once again drink water from a mountain stream, let my voice ring out across the mountain tops and breathe in the scent of pine needles.

I want to go back, but as a better version of myself, to help my people and rebuild Ukraine after our heroic victory!