While many who’ve fled war in Ukraine feel a longing for their homeland, they’re coming to the realization they now belong in Canada
From her home near Kyiv, Kateryna Karpenko saw one of the first acts of a long, gruelling war and predicts she might not go back even after the guns fall silent.
“I was watching through my window, the black Russian helicopters and heard explosions … I was hiding in my bathroom with my cat,” said the 36-year-old.
The airborne Russian coup de main failed but the war surged into her hometown of Irpin, north of Kyiv, where her apartment block became a battleground and a temporary refuge for the enemy.
“My house was on the front lines and the Russians resided for a month there,” said Karpenko, recalling the green military ration packs left behind by the retreating invaders.
That trauma and fear for the future was enough to convince the woman to flee her country, first heading to Poland, then Germany.
But Karpenko said she’d read about Canada and sensed it was her destiny.
“In my hopes and dreams, I was already living in Canada,” she said.
She arrived in Regina in October 2022 — her passage aided by the Saskatchewan government and her settlement smoothed by federal benefits and visa policy.
A year later, Karpenko moved to Calgary, where she found a job working remotely as a web developer.
When asked about her future plans, the woman muses about a peaceful future in Ukraine and returning. But the longer the war drags on, the less likely that is, she said.
And even if the war winds down, Karpenko added, a malevolent, vengeful Russia will remain on the country’s doorstep.
“I’ve prepared a passport for my grandmother just in case something bad happens in (her part of) Ukraine,” said Karpenko.
“Now I have a lot of friends, a stable job and I’m thinking of getting permanent residency and bringing my parents here.”
Home might not be where the heart is
It’s a common sentiment among Ukrainian newcomers who now number nearly 250,000 in Canada — more than 70,000 of them coming to Alberta — a full one-third of all those who’ve emigrated to the province during that time.
According to the province, 33,000 have come to Calgary since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine sparked a wider conflict now heading towards its fourth year, though the Ukrainian Canadian Congress (UCC) says not all of those have stayed.
They’re not considered refugees or asylum seekers but have been issued visas that allow them to work and stay in Canada for as long as the war persists, said Olysia Boychuk, president of the UCC’s Alberta branch.
Anna Tselukhina, who came to Canada with her husband in October 2022, also said she’s leaning toward seeking permanent residency.
The couple were living in China when Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, part of which surged into her native region of Luhansk in the country’s east.
At the same time, they’d soured on living in China but with the war in her homeland, moving back to Ukraine wasn’t an option, she said.
Her hometown of Sievierodonetsk, had been held by Kyiv’s forces during the more limited conflict that began there in 2014, which saw Russia supporting separatist militias in the Donbas region.
Amid the chaos of war, Tselukhina only discovered months later that tragedy had stuck her family.
“My mom perished in the beginning — volunteers couldn’t evacuate her because of the shelling … only a few months later we found out she’d already died,” said the 47-year-old.
“Eighty per cent of the buildings were damaged or destroyed and only 15,000 of the population of 200,000 people stayed — probably a lot of people from Russia moved there.”
With little reason to move back, Tselukhina and her husband have settled into a life in Calgary that includes jobs as cooks at a café in the Foothills Medical Centre.
They cherish the peace, freedom and safety of Canada, she said, but the agony of their homeland is ever-present.
“Calgary is a wonderful city, we really like it here but Ukraine’s in your heart,” she said.
“From the outside, it looks like a normal life, you’re smiling, but in the inside there are all of those thoughts.”
Hopelessness, homesickness among Ukrainian newcomers
Homesickness is common among Ukrainian newcomers who carefully monitor the progress of the war for signs they could possibly return, said Tselukhina, who sees little reason for hope.
“Many people are still homesick and are hoping the war will be over but it doesn’t look like (the Kursk incursion) will work,” she said.
Even so, while some friends appreciate their decision to emigrate, others back home question their love for their homeland, she said.
“Most of my friends I worked together with for a long time understand it’s a choice for everybody but some say ‘you’re in Canada, your life is wonderful,’ ” said Tselukhina.
“They say ‘you’ve left, you’re not really Ukrainian, you’re not patriotic.’ ”
Here, they managed to continue careers they’d started in Ukraine — she in physical training and he in the solar energy business.
“We’ve found good jobs where we can use our skills, and it’s safe,” said Teterych, 27.
‘It’s impossible to live in an occupied territory’
Like other countrymen, the woman watches the war in Ukraine grind on as a third difficult winter approaches under Russian missile bombardment.
“We’re not planning to go back to Ukraine,” she said.
“We’ll maybe move between the provinces, but we won’t leave Canada.”
Two years ago, Teterych reflected on how they couldn’t return to their Mariuopol, at least as it exists now.
“It’s impossible to live in an occupied territory — there’s no future there,” she said.
Help from not only governments but the province’s pre-war ethnic Ukrainian population of nearly 400,000 has aided in easing the way for the newcomers, she said the UCC’s Boychuk.
Given their large numbers and the trauma of their exodus, “it’s a miracle they’ve been able to get through it, get settled,” she said.
“As we did 130 years ago when we settled this land, we continue to carry on and contribute.”
Calgary agencies working to settle those fleeing the Ukraine war say their flow into the city is continuing, though it’s slowed and could further abate once Ottawa special visa for them expires at the end of next March.
‘We need the war to end, we need more solutions’
But given the city’s housing shortage and the large numbers of people moving to the city, some of the war-displaced are forced to turn to emergency shelters, he said.
And the end on Aug. 31 of a provincial program housing Ukrainians for up to 14 days at hotels has added another challenge to finding them accommodation, said Morales.
“We’re working with landlords willing to accept Ukrainians under certain conditions — some are receptive, some aren’t,” he said.
Calgary settlement agencies say the influx of newcomers to the city from all directions has placed a huge strain on their resources, with Morales saying the solution to one source of them is obvious.
“We need the war to end, we need more solutions,” he said.
“When you have these numbers of people coming in a short amount of time, we’re tapped out.”
Since the beginning of the year, about 60 Ukrainians have relocated to rural areas that often badly need a human infusion, said Morales.
“We knew space was becoming a challenge in urban centres and I would love to see rural Alberta benefit from immigration to help sustain these communities,” he said, adding the program has enlisted 80 employers and is processing more than 150 newcomer applications.
Ukrainian newcomers adapting but challenges remain
“There are more than 7,000 people on waiting lists. Even in ours, it’s 1,000 people and that’s a real problem,” said Ernst.
“We’re trying to increase the volume of people in our language classes.”
Generally, he said, newcomers in Calgary — including Ukrainians — are adapting well because they’re driven to do so but the challenges can’t be ignored.
“But the vast majority we see (to offer assistance) are very short-term.”
He noted federal government immigration supports for Ukrainians expire on March 31 of next year — an expected progression in a country facing successive waves of crisis newcomers.
“It’s starting to wind down, it changes our focus to provide services to a broader range of newcomers,” said Ernst.
Of seven respondents, just over half stated they were dissatisfied with their life in Canada though nearly all of them said they were adapting either easily or “neutrally” with finding a job and the language barrier the main challenges.
They were nearly unanimous in saying they plan to stay in Canada permanently.
Making long-term decisions remains difficult for some
Mariana Sirko said that while she “really loves Calgary so far,” it’s tough to make any kind of decision on where she’ll spend the rest of her life.
“I can’t say I want to stay in Canada forever,” said the 26-year-old, who arrived in the country last March and lives in Brentwood with her mother, who works as a housekeeper.
But she said a lingering, “permanent anxiety” felt by many Ukrainians over the dangers of a war with no end in sight was enough for her to leave her country.
The woman, who fled Kyiv at the war’s start for western Ukraine before coming to Canada, said she hasn’t yet found a job in her preferred field — museums — but she volunteers at the Confluence Historic Site and Parkland, formerly known as Fort Calgary.
“It’s a similar situation for many Ukrainians who haven’t found jobs related to their experience,” said Sirko.
It’s one reason some have returned to Ukraine, she said, “or they’re homesick, they have ideas they should return, with the language (barrier) and cultural mindset.”
Kateryna Zarvii returned to Ukraine earlier this year for a 10-day visit to see family and friends but said if anything, it solidified her decision to continue making a life in Canada.
“I would definitely go back to visit but I see the future of my life here,” said Zarvii.
“It’s really hard to start your life over again and I do like how my life is here.”
Since arriving in Canada in the spring of 2022, the woman’s been helping immigrants at the Calgary Centre for Newcomers and now teaches English on the side.
While the cost of living is high in larger Canadian cities, it’s fast become far worse in a Ukraine stressed by war and shortages, said Zarvii.
“I can’t imagine how people are making it there,” said the 28-year-old who hails from Kremenchuk, Ukraine.
“It’s hard for them to hear about a life (like mine) that’s got a predictable future.”
Ukrainian newcomers, she said, are gradually getting better jobs as their English improves and are making more friends.
“It warms my heart to see people adjusting,” said Zarvii. “It was really hard to predict two years ago, many had never left their hometowns and many people had to start from zero.”
She knows of some countrymen who’ve returned to Ukraine but that number is small, said Zarvii.
While new Calgarian Anna Tselukhina is grateful to live in relative peace and stability, she shares a yearning with other displaced Ukrainians for some kind of closure with and salvation for her homeland.
In her case, it’s to properly grieve by reconciling the death of her mother in a war-ravaged hometown of Sievierodontesk, now occupied by the Russians.
“I would go to visit friends and I would love to visit to see if my mom’s apartment is still there, if any of her pictures are there,” said Tselukhina.
“Who knows if it will happen.”
