Connecting Alaska to the World And the World to Alaska
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

A Ukrainian family finds solace in America but cannot escape heartbreak

Amira, the younger daughter in the Koliubaiev family, sits quietly by herself in Arlington, Va., on April 9. She and her mother and sister are staying with a host family after fleeing the war in Ukraine.
Shuran Huang for NPR
Amira, the younger daughter in the Koliubaiev family, sits quietly by herself in Arlington, Va., on April 9. She and her mother and sister are staying with a host family after fleeing the war in Ukraine.

Two days after Russia invaded Ukraine, the Koliubaiev family joined a small caravan with friends and drove more than 500 miles to the Hungarian border. Steps from the checkpoint, Artem Koliubaiev said goodbye to his wife and children, not sure when or if the family would reunite.

Eka Koliubaieva and their two daughters are in the U.S. now, where they have found safe haven in a Washington, D.C., suburb. They've been here for more than a month, hosted by an American couple who learned about them on social media. (In Ukraine, as well as several other countries of Eastern Europe, the paternal surname may be varied slightly based on the family member's gender.)

Eka Koliubaieva shows her Virginia host family how to dance as they did in Italy while her husband, Artem Koliubaiev, plays a video from their time there.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Eka Koliubaieva shows her Virginia host family how to dance as they did in Italy while her husband, Artem Koliubaiev, plays a video from their time there.

"Our first desire was to stay, not to go," Koliubaieva says. "But the next day, there were explosions all around and our windows were shaking, our furniture was shaking, and we realized we have to go.

"It was unthinkable to imagine that in the 21st century, somebody would come and bomb a European city, our downtown — that was impossible to accept," she says.

Artem Koliubaiev and younger daughter Amira listen to their host, Susan Thompson-Gaines, while stuffing Easter eggs with snacks and candies on April 9.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Artem Koliubaiev and younger daughter Amira listen to their host, Susan Thompson-Gaines, while stuffing Easter eggs with snacks and candies on April 9.

President Biden has said the U.S. will accept 100,000 Ukrainian refugees who are fleeing the war, but only a trickle have resettled so far. Koliubaieva and her daughters made the journey to America on tourist visas that are scheduled to expire in September. For now, they're grateful for a safe haven in Arlington, Va., near Washington.

"After all of our experiences, everything we lived through, this was at least a place where we could sleep normally and regain our physical strength," Koliubaieva, 42, said on a recent spring day as she sat in the backyard of Susan Thompson-Gaines and David Gaines' home.

Erika, the older daughter in the Koliubaiev family, gently touches a stuffed bunny while making Easter eggs.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Erika, the older daughter in the Koliubaiev family, gently touches a stuffed bunny while making Easter eggs.
Hosts Susan Thompson-Gaines and David Gaines show the Koliubaiev family their wedding photos while making Easter eggs at their home.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Hosts Susan Thompson-Gaines and David Gaines show the Koliubaiev family their wedding photos while making Easter eggs at their home.

The couple says this isn't the first time they've invited strangers to live with them. Last year, they hosted an Afghan family that now lives on its own nearby. Thompson-Gaines stumbled upon a Facebook post by a friend of the Koliubaiev family saying that a Ukrainian mother and her two daughters who had escaped the war were looking for shelter.

"It's opening up your heart in your life to let people in," says Thompson-Gaines, a self-styled "kindness activist." "It doesn't matter where you're from. Every person wants the same thing. We all want safety. We want a warm place to sleep. We want food. We want our children to have education."

Host Susan Thompson-Gaines received a pot of borscht, a sour soup common in Ukraine, from a Ukrainian neighbor.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Host Susan Thompson-Gaines received a pot of borscht, a sour soup common in Ukraine, from a Ukrainian neighbor.
David Gaines guides Erika as she puts tomato sauce onto pizza dough.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
David Gaines guides Erika as she puts tomato sauce onto pizza dough.

A night of celebration before the invasion

The war in Ukraine has fueled the fastest-growing refugee crisis since World War II, one that advocacy groups predict will last for years. Most of the nearly 5 million people who have fled since February have resettled in nearby European countries. The United States granted refugee status to just 12 Ukrainians in March, down from 514 in January and February during the Russian buildup to the war, according to U.S. State Department data. Just how many may have entered through other pathways is unclear. People who obtain official refugee status are able to access temporary government assistance and a path to U.S. citizenship, both of which are more difficult to obtain for those who enter on visas.

A family selfie in Ukraine.
/ The Koliubaiev family
/
The Koliubaiev family
A family selfie in Ukraine.

Feb. 23 had been a day like any other, perhaps even better than most. Eka Koliubaieva (her full name is Kateryna) had a meeting about expanding her jewelry-making business. That evening, she attended a major film premiere with her film producer husband and their daughters. They stayed out past midnight. But within hours, they went from celebration to terror as Russia began bombing Ukraine.

Two days later, at the Hungarian border, Koliubaiev, 34, said goodbye to his family — like all Ukrainian men age 60 and under, he was required to stay behind. He has joined volunteers from the Ukrainian film industry to provide essentials like food, clothes, diapers and medical supplies to some of the 7.1 million people the U.N. says have been displaced within the country's borders.

A father surprises his daughter on her 16th birthday

Koliubaieva, who flew with her daughters from Budapest to Washington, was left torn and emotionally numb. "I certainly don't feel any guilt for not being there now, but I can't say I feel any relief for being here either," she says. "What I do feel is just a sense of despair."

They had been at their hosts' Virginia house for about a month when there was a knock at the door late one night. The surprise guest was Koliubaiev. He had managed to fly to the U.S. on his filmmaker's visa to celebrate daughter Erika's 16th birthday as part of a business trip that included stops in Warsaw and Paris. He didn't tell the family in advance because he didn't want them to worry.

The Koliubaiev family walks to Penrose Park in Arlington to play basketball on April 12.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
The Koliubaiev family walks to Penrose Park in Arlington to play basketball on April 12.
Left: Eka Koliubaieva talks to younger daughter Amira at Penrose Park in Arlington. Right: Erika plays basketball with her father at the park.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Left: Eka Koliubaieva talks to younger daughter Amira at Penrose Park in Arlington. Right: Erika plays basketball with her father at the park.

And so, for a week, the family was briefly reunited, away from the bombs and shelling. Sharing tea and cake with their hosts as birds chirped in the spring sunshine, they sat close to one another, Koliubaiev wrapping his arm around the youngest, Amira, 11. She sat quietly, her hair covering part of her face, while the rest of her family described their flight from Kyiv, which the Koliubaiev family has called home for some five generations.

Koliubaieva and the girls avoid watching news coverage of the war, keeping up instead through social media as well as friends and family back home. Some of the stories are gruesome. Koliubaiev told them about reports of Russian soldiers nailing neighborhood dogs to a fence and eating them after they ran out of food rations. "It's more horrible than on television," he says.

Artem Koliubaiev kisses Amira on her forehead after more than a month of separation. Koliubaiev could stay in the United States for just a short time but flew in to surprise the family.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Artem Koliubaiev kisses Amira on her forehead after more than a month of separation. Koliubaiev could stay in the United States for just a short time but flew in to surprise the family.

Knowing his wife and daughters are safe in the U.S. has provided major relief for Koliubaiev. "I stopped [being] nervous about them and I can handle something else in Ukraine so I can put more attention on the daily work," he says.

The kindness of strangers helps the family settle in

Mother and daughters have tried to regain a sense of normalcy. They take walks, go on runs and play basketball, while Koliubaieva has started a new line of jewelry. They often share meals with their hosts, plant sunflowers together and participate in local activities.

Eka Koliubaieva worked as a jewelry designer with her own brand in Ukraine. Now, neighbors donate beads to her and she has started a new line.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Eka Koliubaieva worked as a jewelry designer with her own brand in Ukraine. Now, neighbors donate beads to her and she has started a new line.
Left: Koliubaieva shows a new ring that she made in the basement where she lives in Arlington. Right: Koliubaieva shows one of her necklace designs.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Left: Koliubaieva shows a new ring that she made in the basement where she lives in Arlington. Right: Koliubaieva shows one of her necklace designs.

"I really can't imagine not helping someone who needs a safe place to stay," Thompson-Gaines says. Her partner, Gaines, urged more Americans to do the same. "You should not be thinking about what sort of a hardship it's going to be for you, but rather, this is an opportunity to enrich your life," he says. "So do yourself a favor and help someone out."

The Koliubaiev family stands for a portrait in Penrose Park in Arlington, Va., on April 12.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
The Koliubaiev family stands for a portrait in Penrose Park in Arlington, Va., on April 12.

The Koliubaiev family's tourist visas expire in September, and what happens next is unclear. Anticipating a possible return to Ukraine is simply "too difficult" for Koliubaieva to think about right now. "It's changed for everyone, for the whole country of Ukraine, and I understand there is no return to the way it was before the invasion," she says.

Her teenage daughter, Erika, has no plans to go back. She wants to study acting and directing at a film school in the United States. Even before the war, she imagined a world beyond Kyiv. "And with war, of course, I can't imagine myself there now," she says.

For Koliubaiev, his time in the U.S. was brief. He is back in Ukraine out of a sense of duty. "It's not a question for me because I don't want to be [an] illegal man who crossed the border and hiding somewhere out of my country," he says.

"We need to live in the moment. I don't know what will be tomorrow — nobody knows. As you see, nobody wants to fight with Putin except Ukraine."

Copyright 2023 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.

Eka Koliubaieva and Artem Koliubaiev embrace after making pizzas in Arlington, Va., on April 9. Koliubaiev's time in the U.S. was brief. They had a week together before he had to leave.
/ Shuran Huang for NPR
/
Shuran Huang for NPR
Eka Koliubaieva and Artem Koliubaiev embrace after making pizzas in Arlington, Va., on April 9. Koliubaiev's time in the U.S. was brief. They had a week together before he had to leave.

Corrected: April 21, 2022 at 8:00 PM AKDT
In a previous audio version of this story, we incorrectly said A Martínez was in Kyiv from Feb. 12 to 22. In fact, he was there from Feb. 3 to 12.
Olivia Hampton
[Copyright 2024 NPR]
Barry Gordemer is an award-winning producer, editor, and director for NPR's Morning Edition. He's helped produce and direct NPR coverage of two Persian Gulf wars, eight presidential elections, the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, and hurricanes Katrina and Harvey. He's also produced numerous profiles of actors, musicians, and writers.