OLENA
BackStefania - Kalush Orchestra
I was missing one. Just one more. Just one more, and I could finally send in my application for dual citizenship. I went there with my hands in my pockets, a lump in my stomach, to this Norwegian oral exam. I knew there would be two of us — partners before the examiners, to show that we could carry on a conversation. It was Olena, Ukrainian, already at a good level after just a year here. Four children, a car, and a brand-new job. First topic for her, second for me. Then we spoke about the children together. I moved on to the state’s role in vaccination programs, and we finished with her last oral task. The last one. Simple, fairly common. Should one follow the news? One expects a standard, predictable answer. A few adverbs, a logical structure. One does not expect tears. When the follow-up question was drawn to keep the conversation going, she apologized. No, she wasn’t following the Norwegian news. There were her friends, her family. There were her tears. The oral ended there. She left quickly, a little embarrassed. We glorify soldiers so much that we forget the women. The women who flee, the women who remain. The women who do everything men can no longer do. The women who care, who educate, who comfort. The women who fight for milk, for a bit of bread, against illness, to avoid being raped. The women who have to pretend everything is normal, when nothing is as it once was. The women who must be there for the soldiers, yet must not complain, because they are not there, in the horror. I met Olena the way I met that song — by chance. Because it was in the news. Without Eurovision, I probably would never have heard it He spoke of his mother. His mother, who didn’t wake himer during the storm. There was the pale green of the violins, the vibrations of the traditional instruments, and the sudden, striking force of the rap, arriving when least expected. I had to stop painting after a few weeks. Googling the Ukrainian forests, the multicolored castles, the rivers carved into the rock. I learned to recognize a few words from the chorus. Mom. Lullaby. I never saw any weakness in Olena. No, rather a woman carrying so much — a family, responsibilities, and also the memories of a country being torn apart.