A Ukrainian woman helping her compatriots in Estonia however she can

We meet Ukrainian Liubov Laur on the morning of 9 March in her home town of Tapa. She plans to take the midday train to Tallinn – lately she often goes to the Ukrainian community centre there, as these are busy times helping war refugees. But 9 March is important for Ukrainians: it is the birthday of their writer and artist Taras Shevchenko, which Ukrainians mark every year. In the evening Liubov hurries back to Tapa for choir rehearsal – next Sunday there is a charity concert in support of Ukraine at St James’s Church in Tapa.

Katrin Uuspõld

“Taras Shevchenko is to Ukrainians what Lydia Koidula is to Estonians!” says Liubov. “Twelve years ago an oak was planted in his honour opposite Fat Margaret Tower in Tallinn, and a memorial stone was laid,” she explains.

This year too, Liubov will go to the oak with other Ukrainians and sing, to a Ukrainian folk tune and Shevchenko’s words, about how the Dnieper (Dnipro in Ukrainian) is as mighty as the spirit of the Ukrainian people. This song, by the way, can also be heard on 20 March at the charity concert starting at 14:00 at St James’s Church in Tapa.

Married to an Estonian

Liubov was born and grew up on the banks of that same Dnieper, in the village of Dniprovske in the Chernihiv district of northern Ukraine. As a girl she often walked three kilometres to the nearest library and borrowed a pile of books. “I don’t know why, but I often took Baltic authors. They wrote about farm life. In Ukraine farmers are traditionally very important – my father was one too. And so, reading those books, I had a dream: I will marry a Baltic man!” Liubov laughs.

After graduating from the Kyiv Institute of Culture she was assigned to Cherkasy in central Ukraine, where she worked in a library and organised cultural events. Later she also studied conducting and sang in a choir. The years went by, but there was no Baltic man anywhere. Until one day in 1991, shortly before Women’s Day, she had to take a train from one of her brothers in Chernihiv to another brother in Sevastopol. Her bags were big and the train was packed. Hoping to find a seat, Liubov poked her head into a compartment. The man sitting there said: it’s possible, but five dollars and a kiss on the cheek! Liubov replied: I don’t have five dollars, but a kiss is no problem! It turned out the man was Estonian. “Isn’t it a funny story – I’m travelling from one Ukrainian city to another, and on the same train sits an Estonian man who is temporarily living in the same city as me, Cherkasy! And he doesn’t look like an Estonian at all: he talks loudly and is very emotional!”

When she went to work at the house of culture a few days later, her colleagues were excited: “Liubov! Guess what! A man called you yesterday – he sounded exactly like Urmas Ott!” – “The timbre of his voice really is like Urmas Ott’s, like many Estonian men’s,” Liubov laughs.

And indeed, the dream came true and she married that Estonian man. Some time later they moved from Ukraine to Tapa. “Allan and I are a good match because music unites us – we both love to sing. He even worked with Jaak Joala at one time. And he still sings,” says the Ukrainian woman.

An organiser by nature

In Tapa, Liubov immediately started work at the special school as a teacher-caregiver, librarian and activities coordinator – 16 years in all. Now she is retired. Of course, no one would believe it looking at her, but next spring she will turn 70.

Soon after she arrived in Tapa, the town government also contacted her. They had heard that Liubov was a great organiser: would she organise get-togethers for Tapa’s Russian-speaking residents too? Otherwise people grumbled that events were only held for them before elections, while they could be regular. Liubov of course agreed, as this is her profession. So she founded MTÜ Orpheus. Incidentally, Orpheus was also the name of the association through which Liubov organised cultural events while living in Ukraine. In Tapa, Ukrainians, Russians, Belarusians and Armenians began meeting at Orpheus.

“When 2014 came (Russia occupied and annexed Crimea – ed.), I didn’t know how to talk to Russian people as a Ukrainian. So my more active work came to a halt. The Russians here still watch Russian channels and believe what they say,” says Liubov.

She is also very worried about the Ukrainian community here. “Unfortunately, the Ukrainian community in Estonia is not united; there are two ways of thinking. The older generation of Ukrainians in Estonia has a Soviet mindset: they watch Russian channels, have lived here for 40 years but have not learned Estonian. They do sing Ukrainian songs, but say we are still brotherly peoples with the Russians, we have one faith, we must get along. But young people who have come here to work in recent years think differently – they want a free Ukrainian state,” says Liubov.

She explains that there is also a big difference between those from western Ukraine and those from eastern Ukraine.

Passing on help

Liubov feels she is now a go-between; people contact her when help is needed. For example, the parents of a Ukrainian woman living in Tapa are on their way to Estonia and need an apartment, as the daughter herself has a big family with small children. Together with other kind people, Liubov helped find them an apartment.

She is also on the board of the Association of Ukrainian Organisations in Estonia and now often goes to Tallinn, where she praises the young Ukrainians who sit crowded in the office, constantly on the phone, sharing information with those in need on everything from refugee bus departure times to organising humanitarian aid.

“9,000 women and children have fled the war to Estonia. Their husbands are fighting in Ukraine. Many hope to return home,” says Liubov, adding that Ukrainians are very grateful to Estonia and Estonians for their all-round help.

She tells of a Ukrainian woman living in Tapa whose sister and niece came from Ukraine to visit – the day before the war began. “Of course they stayed here. I would like to find the girl a chance to do music here in Tapa. She is also singing this Sunday at the charity concert in Tamsalu,” said Liubov.

But how does she keep in touch with her loved ones in Ukraine? She has not been able to reach her nephew on social media for a couple of days. “Two of my brothers have already died, but the third went to visit his daughter – she married and has lived in Israel for years. And my brother was supposed to travel back to Ukraine on 24 February. That very day the war began, and he stayed with his daughter. That was fate!” Liubov is sure.

“A shared worry unites people. It began eight years ago. But whereas before people in eastern Ukraine were still pro-Russian, now everyone is a patriot. The war has united all of Ukraine. Ukrainians living abroad help as best they can; many men have gone home to fight,” Liubov describes. “How much can the Ukrainian soul endure? We are resilient. Ukraine is awakening now.”