Day.5, June 17th,Medyka-Lviv

The weather was cloudy and the temperature was 13 degrees Celsius. Chilly.

Today's mission is to go shopping for fresh food, then split into two vehicles to deliver food to three evacuation centers, and meet up with Daniel and Anna, members of PARACREW, in Lviv to deliver medical supplies to them. We packed up quickly and departed from 84. There were probably close to 200 people gathered around the gate last night. Women with liquor bottles in their hands were still standing. I wonder if last night's drunks drank this alcohol.

I went shopping at my usual Cash&Carry store. I was greeted with a "Oh, you're here again? I was greeted with a "Oh, you're here again? Today I bought 8 carts of fresh food. These purchases were funded by donations collected at a charity event Sally held in the UK.

Simon and Sally boarded the Bettie, and Travis and I boarded the Bertha. The two vans, filled with food and medical supplies, head for the border.

Communication between the two vehicles on the move is via walkie-talkie.

The line of cars from Poland to Ukraine is still the same. Even those of us with passes for humanitarian aid groups had to wait about an hour at this point. There were especially many buses on this day, and it seemed to take a long time to check them at the checkpoints. There are seven border crossings between Poland and Ukraine: Berdishce, Zosin, Doukhovychów-Kolonya, Hrebenne, Korchova, Medyka, and Krosichenko. Travis sometimes enters Ukraine from Kroschenko (70 km from Medyka) if Medyka is too crowded, but he has only done so once because it is more efficient to wait in Medyka, as it is a mountain road that takes 2 hours each way. However, since it is a mountainous road that takes two hours each way, he told us that he had chosen this method only once.

Entering a checkpoint. This is my second time entering Ukraine. I knew what to expect, so I helped with the paperwork (Simon and Travis took out the leftover pizza from last night and ate it with care). (Simon and Travis took out the leftover pizza from last night and ate it with great care.) (Simon and Travis took out the leftover pizza from last night's dinner and took great care of it.) We handed over our luggage lists, passports, and humanitarian aid plan to the officer. As before, we left Poland and entered Ukraine without any problems. At that time, I had no idea that this immigration procedure would be a problem.

We entered Ukraine. We stop at two shelters before heading to the center of Lviv.

The first shelter is a high school that has been closed. Although the school was closed, the grounds were neat and clean as evacuees had been living there since the time of the invasion. In the plaza, a catty was exploring.

Not only schools, but also public buildings and churches are being used as shelters within Ukraine. About 50 people are living in this school. Because of the frequent deprivation of supplies, large entrances and exits have been sealed off with sandbags. The school building is dimly lit and smells of disinfectant. It resembles the construction of a Japanese public school. A hallway, classrooms, lunchroom, and lunchroom. Food is brought into the storage room next to the lunchroom. In the dimly lit lunchroom, a man was eating. Was he a soldier? He was wearing a military uniform, round-cropped, sharp-eyed, and in his mid-thirties. His right hand was bandaged from shoulder to elbow, missing from the elbow.

The caretaker of the shelter was a lady with the air of a "Ukrainian mother with a big heart," and she and her husband, probably a man with a log-like body, helped us unload the van. She looked at the back of the van and gave us precise instructions on what we needed. I carried them silently with Uncle Log. The man who had been eating in the lunchroom was gone before I knew it, and Simon, who was very close to his mother (though she and his uncle both spoke very limited English), gave me a hug and said goodbye, "I'll be back," and "Come back again. I hugged her too. I almost cry. Why do we have to kill each other with weapons when we are all human beings?

In the next town, we stop at the courier service counter. A Ukrainian who has taken refuge in London wants to send a package to his relatives. ABW is also responding to this request, as it is much cheaper to ship from within Ukraine than from London. This kind of support is a small thing, but I think it is very important. Large NGOs and governments cannot provide this kind of support. Individual connections become a community, and through the community, the circle of mutual support expands.

There are about 20 people at the collection point. We deposited four boxes. We hope they will arrive safely.

While we wait, we confirm our next arrangements. Unplanned things happen everywhere we go, but we middle-aged men and women are unfazed by them.

After shipping our belongings, we headed to the second evacuation center. This shelter was also a school. Seven men and women helped us unload our belongings, but all of them were so exhausted that they did not have a smile on their faces. The inside of the school was not sanitary, dusty, and reeked of toilets. Laundry was left hanging out to dry in the courtyard, and children's bicycles were drenched in the rain. We silently carried our belongings and left the shelter without exchanging a word.

Heading to Lviv in the rain, east on the M11.

An hour and a half away is Lviv. Since the invasion in February 2022, the city has been frequently bombed with cruise missiles, causing damage to military installations in the suburbs and nearby civilian facilities and power generation facilities.

The streets are pedestrianized and many people are walking around. There are all kinds of loose stores. The "USUPSO YUYATO" shown in the video is a variety store, similar to UNIQLO in various designs. And there are a variety of items on display that are out of design. People chatting while eating and drinking on the terrace of the restaurant or window shopping. It was a "peaceful" and "normal" evening in a historical city in Eastern Europe.

I meet up with Daniel and Anna from PARACREW at a kebab restaurant. We eat dinner for now. 'Well, it's wartime, isn't it?' The dinner time is so "normal" and "peaceful" that we have the impression that we are in the middle of a war. We wait for the food while reporting each other's recent status.

I, who was tired of meaty meals, ordered a chicken salad, and Travis gobbled up the spare ribs.

After eating, we move to the parking lot to transfer the medical supplies we brought from Medyka to PARACREW's car. After dinner, we walk around for gelato.

The cobblestone streets are beautiful. I was probably the only Japanese.

Stay for about an hour. There are approximately 200,000 internally displaced people living in Lviv. For more information on the situation of internally displaced persons in Ukraine, please see this UNHCR report.

Thirty-six hours after this photo was taken, a drone bomb exploded about 3 km from this location. It was not "normal" and "peaceful."

We will meet at the rotary square in front of Lviv train station to start reloading supplies. The time is 7:30 PM.

Simon will be asked to speak about his past efforts with PARACREW.

Somehow Travis has an impression of the dinner.

Daniel should introduce himself.

Introducing themselves to Anna, the two will then travel to Kherson in the south to deliver medical supplies to a town where a dam has burst. This is how the Last Mile is connected. No one else will do it for us, so we will do it ourselves. There are not many people who are willing to take risks, so people like Anna and Daniel are very valuable. I would like to interview them when their activities have come to a close.

We returned to the Medyka border about 2 hours after Lviv, just after 23:00. Leaving one van in a free parking lot by the Ukrainian checkpoint, Simon and I cross the border on foot. At the Ukrainian exit gate, I hand over my passport to be checked, and then go through the Polish entry gate. A male Polish officer stares at my passport. He is consulting with a senior-looking female officer in the next booth about something. The female officer's eyes widen with an expression of "What? I don't miss the look in her eyes.
After all, I am a facilitator, a profession that requires a high level of human and situational observation. I do not miss a momentary change in atmosphere. There is clearly a problem. Something is happening to my passport, or rather to me.

A male officer beckons me to come over here and takes me to another room (a plain white room with only a steel desk, four chairs, and a surveillance camera). He asks me in English, "Mr. Nagao, how did you enter Ukraine?" I am asked in English, "How did you enter Ukraine? I think it was "How did you enter Ukraine? I think it was "How did you enter Ukraine? I entered with Simon, who passed through the gate in front of me this morning. I drove in. No, that's not what I'm asking you. No, that's not what I'm asking. Your passport has a Ukrainian exit stamp, but not an entry stamp. How is that possible? （What's !) Let me see my passport.

It is true that it is not stamped. The entry and exit stamps of Ukraine and Poland were stamped on my passport the day before yesterday, but today's entry stamp is definitely not stamped. Why is it not stamped?" the male officer asked me calmly, wrinkling his brow. I thought for a moment. I was not sure how best to answer in such a case. I was suspected of smuggling or smuggling goods between Ukraine and Poland. And I answer, "I don't know. Don't know why. Don't know why. Naturally, this song begins to play peacefully in my brain.

The male officer's response was, "Yeah, well, yeah..." and my attitude was, "How am I supposed to know that? I entered the country, so I got an exit stamp, so it's your mistake, right? I was very proud of myself. If I had said anything like excuses or explained the situation in detail, it would have been a hassle. It is important to have the courage to say "I don't know" when you don't know something.

Simon was waiting for me outside the gate. What's wrong?" I was told that my Ukrainian entry stamp was not stamped.

This is the sidewalk you take when entering Poland on foot from Ukraine. The sidewalk that people both evacuating and returning to the country pass through.

The distance from the gate to 84 is about 200 meters, and there is a small clearing by the sidewalk where, until last summer, a large amount of relief supplies were piled up in a pile of cardboard boxes. Aid groups had also set up tents here to provide various support activities to the evacuees, but they have now been cleared away without a trace. The photos used in this news item, and the photos used in this news item, and the photos used in this news item were taken at this location.

What can I do for the estimated 14 million refugees of the Ukrainian invasion?