戰(zhàn)火陰云下的烏克蘭

It isn’t yet dusk， but the sky to the south is darkening with an approaching storm as Denis Dragusevich and Zhenya Kucheryavaya play with their three small boys in a dusty apartment-building playground in 1）Slavyansk.

After pro-Russian rebels declared their own republics in eastern Ukraine this April， Slavyansk quickly became the 2）focal point of the fighting between government forces and the steadily growing 3）militias. Since the end of May， 4）Kiev’s “anti-terrorist operation” has 5）shelled the city on a near-daily basis， hitting dozens of residential buildings and reducing most of the suburb of Semyonovka to rubble.

“Everyone talks about the same thing， about when the war will end，” says Katya， who lives in a two-room apartment with her mother and her eight-year-old son， Gleb. The distribution centre where she worked has closed down， and instead she spends half the day hauling water to the apartment.

The people I speak to tell me that life here has changed 6）drastically： because of the damaged 7）infrastructure， water has been cut off for many since early June， 90% of the city lacks electricity， mobile reception is 8）elusive and some neighbourhoods no longer have gas.

Denis and Zhenya live in a two-room apartment with her father， disabled mother， sister and their three boys， a one-year-old and threeyear-old twins. The family wakes up at 9）first light； now that there is no electricity， the day ends much earlier. After a quick breakfast， Denis and Zhenya go to haul water in plastic bottles from a nearby well. Elsewhere in the city， water towers have run hoses for lines of thirsty people to fill up.

Several times a week， they buy milk at a small cottage in the city where a man keeps a cow， pig and chickens that have been abandoned by their owners. It costs 20 hryvnia （￡1） for three litres —not bad， Denis says， but more expensive than it used to be. Many products have grown pricier as food supplies have been stretched and stores have closed， with the UN estimating that seasonal vegetables are four to five times more expensive than before. The few supermarkets that have electricity are still open， but their many bare shelves portray the difficulty of delivering goods to a city under siege.

Zhenya says her biggest worry is finding food for her mother and children now that the family’s income has dropped off. She previously received 3，000 hryvnia （￡150） a month in child benefits， her parents received 2，600 hryvnia in pension payments， and Denis earned 50 to 100 hryvnia a day working at a tableware factory during winter—Slavyansk is known for its 10）ceramics—and on building sites in summer. But social payments have been cut off， the factories have shut and no one is building anything during the 11）bombardment.

“Earlier， we didn’t have to 12）scrimp on the kids’ food； we bought veal， chicken， milk and sweets，” Zhenya says. “Now we go home and they say， ‘Momma， give me sweets’， and you can’t explain to a child that there’s no money.”

Zhenya says the constant fear has changed the way she looks. “If you look at my old photos， my face has completely changed，” she says.

Only one pharmacy is open， and prices there have risen， so finding medicine for her 13）diabetic mother is another constant concern.

After cooking lunch， the family typically sleeps through the afternoon， while the grandfather often goes fishing. After they get up， the parents take the boys out to play—no farther than the playground in front of their apartment building， though， in case the shelling starts. In the evenings， the neighbours sit outside the stairwell entrance and listen to the news. When it starts getting dark， it’s time to go in， eat a snack and go to bed， Denis says.

The yard smells of waste because of the nearby dumpsters， which residents leave open for the many cats and dogs that now roam the city， having been abandoned by their owners. Tens of thousands have left Slavyansk， and the fruit from apricot trees in the yard is rotting because not enough residents are left to pick it. Life in a war zone is a 14）fetid affair， first and foremost because it’s hard to flush a toilet with the precious little water you’ve managed to haul in that day.

Like many families， Denis and Zhenya have harrowing stories of the attacks they have witnessed. The most infamous of them occurred on June 8th. One shell landed in the belltower of a church. Casualty counts varied， but both sides admitted civilians had been killed， including a six-year-old girl.

When the shelling started in the distance， Denis went to look for Zhenya， who wasn’t home from her daily errands. As he was walking down Svoboda Street， he heard the whoosh of an incoming shell and dropped to the ground. A few dozen yards away， a shell hit the corner of a high-rise and two more hit the apartment building next door， sending bricks flying.

“There was no fear or surprise， just emotion，‘What are you doing， you dogs？ When will it end？ Bastards！’” Denis recounts.

When the shelling starts， Denis and Zhenya take the kids into the entryway of their apartment or the bathroom. The others stay with 15）Babushka in one of the bedrooms where Denis has piled four mattresses against the windows. When the shelling started around 8pm on a recent evening， he took the cushions off the couch and they slept in the entryway. Otherwise， the family sleeps all five together in one bed. One of the twins， Yaroslav， often cries and is almost always in one of the adults’ arms ever since a shell fell nearby.

“When you have to give a three-year-old 16）valerian to sleep， it’s awful，” Zhenya says.

Katya and Gleb try not to leave their neighbourhood in case more shelling starts. They fetch water in the mornings； in the afternoons， Gleb draws pictures or plays with his action figures or his favourite Porsche Cayenne toy car. Katya worries about where Gleb will study in the autumn as his school was recently hit by a shell.

Asked why they don’t leave the city， Denis and Zhenya explain it’s because of their 17）precarious financial situation. Because of Babushka’s condition， they would have to hire a taxi， and that costs 500 hryvnia （￡25） for a trip to the nearby town of Svyatogorsk where thousands have taken refuge， an “unreal sum”， Zhenya says.

The story is similar for other families. Gleb spent much of May at summer camp， but Katya says she doesn’t have the money to send him back. “We all want to run， but where to？ If I go away for a month， I’ll come back to an apartment with no door and no windows，”she says. She worries that her home could be 18）looted.

Katya and Gleb left to stay with her grandparents in nearby Kramatorsk this week after their neighbourhood came under intensive shelling that hit nearby apartment buildings， killing residents. 19）Shrapnel was sprayed across the yard where Gleb played.

“I had such a home， such a family， I was working， but the Slavyansk we knew is gone，”a crying Katya said by phone from Kramatorsk.“What will we do now？ Where will we go？ We left with only underwear practically. They keep killing us and killing us.”

還未到黃昏時分，但南邊的天空卻因即將來臨的暴風雨而變得陰沉沉的。此時，在斯拉維揚斯克市一棟公寓樓下滿地塵埃的游樂場上，丹尼斯·德拉格塞維奇和珍雅·庫舍雅瓦雅正陪著他們的三個小男孩玩耍。

親俄民間武裝人員今年四月在東烏克蘭宣布建立其自治的共和國，之后，斯拉維揚斯克市馬上成了政府軍隊和持續(xù)增長的民兵組織之間的戰(zhàn)斗焦點。自五月底起，基輔的“反恐行動”幾乎每天都在炮轟這座城市，擊垮了幾十棟居民樓，并將謝苗諾夫卡村周邊的大部分地方變成了殘垣碎瓦。

“每個人都在談?wù)撝患隆獞?zhàn)爭何時才會結(jié)束，”卡雅說道，她和母親還有八歲的兒子格里布一起住在一間兩居室的公寓里。她工作的那家配送中心已經(jīng)關(guān)門了，而她得要花上半天時間提水到公寓里。

與我交談的那些人告訴我說，這里的生活發(fā)生了徹底的改變：由于基礎(chǔ)設(shè)施被破壞，從六月初以來很多地方都斷水了，城市90%的地區(qū)斷電，手機信號很難收到，有些社區(qū)也不再供氣了。

丹尼斯和珍雅住在一間兩居室的公寓里，同住的還有珍雅的父親、行動不便的母親、妹妹，以及他們的三個兒子，一個才一歲大，還有一對三歲大的雙胞胎。一家人天一亮就起床；如今屋里沒電，日間生活更早結(jié)束。簡單地吃完早餐后，丹尼斯和珍雅便用塑料瓶去附近的井里提水。在城市的其他地方，水塔連著膠皮管讓排成長隊的口渴民眾裝水。

他們一周到城里的一間小農(nóng)舍買幾次牛奶，那里的住戶收留了被主人們拋棄的一頭奶牛、一頭豬和一些小雞。三升牛奶賣20格里夫納（1英鎊）——還不錯，丹尼斯說，但比以前貴。由于食品供應緊張，不少商店關(guān)門，許多商品的價格越來越貴。聯(lián)合國估計，時令蔬菜的價格比以前貴四到五倍。為數(shù)不多的幾間尚未斷電的超市還繼續(xù)營業(yè)，但里面許多空蕩蕩的貨架描繪了向遭遇圍城的城市運送貨物的難度。

珍雅說，由于如今這個家庭的收入減少，她最大的擔憂是為其母親和孩子們尋找食物。她以前每月可以收到3000格里夫納（150英鎊）的兒童福利金，她雙親的養(yǎng)老金有2600格里夫納，而丹尼斯在冬季時去一家餐具廠打工，每天能掙50到100格里夫納——斯拉維揚斯克市因其陶瓷器而聞名——夏季則到建筑工地工作。但社保福利金已被中斷，工廠皆已關(guān)門，在炮彈轟炸的日子里也沒人會修建任何建筑。

“以前，對孩子們的食物我們從來不??；我們會買牛肉、雞肉、牛奶和糖果，”珍雅說?！叭缃裎覀兓氐郊遥麄冋f：‘媽咪，給我糖果，’但你沒法去跟一個孩子解釋，家里沒錢了?！?/p>

珍雅說，持續(xù)不斷的恐懼改變了她的樣貌?！澳憧纯次乙郧暗呐f照片就會知道，我的面容完全改變了，”她說。

只有一間藥店還開著門，藥價也已飛漲，因此為其罹患糖尿病的母親尋找藥品也是另一無盡擔憂。

做完午飯后，這家人通常會睡過整個下午，而外祖父經(jīng)常會去釣魚。等他們起床后，父母親就會帶男孩們出去玩——即便如此，最遠也是走到公寓樓下的游樂場而已，以防炮擊又開始。到了傍晚，鄰居們都會坐在樓梯入口處聽新聞。當天開始漸漸變黑時，就是時候回家了，吃些點心，然后上床睡覺，丹尼斯說。

因為附近有垃圾箱，院子里總飄著一股垃圾的味道，居民們總是開著箱蓋，以便那些被主人們拋棄，游蕩于城市中的貓兒狗兒們?nèi)∈场?shù)以萬計的人離開了斯拉維揚斯克市，而院子里的杏樹果實也在腐爛，因為留下來的住戶不夠多，來不及采摘。戰(zhàn)區(qū)的生活充滿了惡臭，最主要的原因是當天好不容易才提回來那一點珍貴的清水，是很難拿去沖廁所的。

如同許多家庭一樣，丹尼斯和珍雅在進攻時期也親眼目睹了許多悲慘的故事。其中最臭名昭著的事件發(fā)生在六月八日那天。一枚炮彈落在了一間教堂的鐘樓上。傷亡人數(shù)統(tǒng)計不一，但雙方都承認有平民喪生，其中包括一名六歲的女孩。

當遠方的炮擊開始時，丹尼斯前去尋找珍雅，她那時正因一些日常跑腿工作而不在家。當他走下斯沃博達街時，他聽見了一枚炮彈嗖嗖地飛過來，落在地面上。幾十碼之外，一枚炮彈擊中了一幢大樓的一角，接著另兩枚擊中了隔壁的公寓樓，磚石橫飛。

“那時候感覺不到任何恐懼或驚訝，只有滿腔怒火，‘你們在干嘛，你們這些狗東西？這種事幾時才能結(jié)束？雜種們！’”丹尼斯敘說道。

當炮擊開始時，丹尼斯和珍雅將孩子們帶到公寓的門廳或浴室里。其他人則同外祖母一起待在他們的一間臥室里，丹尼斯已經(jīng)在那間房的窗口處堆了四層床墊。在最近的某個傍晚，炮擊于八點左右開始時，他將沙發(fā)坐墊拆出來，全家都睡在門廳里。不然就是一家五口人擠在一張床上。自從一枚炮彈落在附近地區(qū)開始，雙胞胎之一的雅羅斯拉夫就常常哭泣，總是要父母抱在懷里。

“當你不得不給一個三歲的孩子喂頡草讓他入睡時，感覺真是糟透了，”珍雅說。

卡雅和格里布盡量不離開他們的社區(qū)，以防遇到更多的炮擊。他們每天清晨取水；到了下午，格里布就畫畫，或者玩他的卡通人物模型或最愛的保時捷卡宴玩具車?？ㄑ艙母窭锊嫉搅饲锛静恢撊ツ睦锷蠈W，因為他的學校最近被一枚炮彈擊中了。

當問及他們?yōu)楹尾浑x開這座城市時，丹尼斯和珍雅解釋說，是因為他們不穩(wěn)定的財務(wù)狀況。因為外祖母的身體狀況，他們將不得不雇一輛的士，花費500格里夫納（25英鎊）才能到達附近的小鎮(zhèn)斯維亞托戈爾斯克，成千上萬人在那里避難。這是筆“不現(xiàn)實的花銷”，珍雅說。

其他家庭的情況也都差不多。五月的大部分時間里，格里布都待在夏令營里，但卡雅說她沒錢再把他送回去了。“我們都想要逃離這里，但是又能去哪里呢？如果我離開一個月，等我回來以后，我公寓的門窗就都不見了，”她說，擔心自己的家會被洗劫一空。

卡雅和格里布這周離開了，去附近的克拉馬托爾斯克市與她祖父母住在一起。他們的社區(qū)遭到了猛烈的炮轟，炮火擊中了附近的幾棟公寓大樓，炸死了一些住戶。彈片在格里布平時玩耍的院子里橫飛四濺。

“我曾擁有這樣的屋子，這樣的家，我曾有工作，但我們所知的斯拉維揚斯克市已經(jīng)一去不復返了，”卡雅從克拉馬托爾斯克市打電話回來哭著說?！拔覀儸F(xiàn)在該怎么辦？我們該去哪里？我們幾乎是只穿著內(nèi)衣逃走的。他們一直在殺害我們，一直在殺害我們?！?/p>