'Tragic and surreal': Ukrainian Americans watch former homes turn into war zones

Sitting in his Carmel home, scrolling on Twitter and watching a war unfold in Ukraine, Henry Mestetsky was shocked to see people huddled together in underground subway stations in Kyiv.

This was his childhood city. His family’s former home. He remembers frequenting those same stations as a boy — today, makeshift bunkers — where families are sheltering against possible Russian airstrikes. A “transportation lifeblood,” as he remembers, turned into a lifeline for civilian safety. 

“It’s tragic and surreal,” Mestetsky told IndyStar. “Those are the two words that keep coming back.”

He’s one of many in the Ukrainian and Russian diaspora watching the ripple effects of a war thousands of miles away. Late Wednesday evening, Russian troops invaded Ukraine on multiple fronts, continuing attacks in the following days despite international condemnation, new U.S. sanctions and pleas of peace from Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky. 

Live updates:Russia hits Kyiv with gunfire, rockets but US says Moscow's momentum has slowed

More:Why is Russia invading Ukraine? Could it be the start of WWIII? Here's what we know

Though the two countries have been in conflict for years and tensions have especially been mounting in the last few months, Americans with Ukrainian and Russian roots are left asking the question: How could this be happening? 

“We were prepared for the fact that Russia might start moving a little bit deeper into the eastern parts of Ukraine, but we didn't believe that it will be full scale” said Nataliya Shpylova-Saeed, a Ph.D. candidate at Indiana University. She grew up in Ukraine and still has family in Cherkasy, a central city about 120 miles from Kyiv. 

“We didn't believe that civilians will be affected," Shpylova-Saeed said. "We didn't believe that they will launch actually shelling across the country. We didn't expect this.”

Her family is living hour by hour in overwhelming anxiety, she says, too afraid to go to bed. They don’t know what they’ll wake up to in the morning. 

“That's something that breaks my heart because I call my mom and she cries,” Shpylova-Saeed said. “She cries not because she's scared. She cries because she watches TV, she listens to the news and it brings a lot of pain. She feels sorry for those who lose their lives.”

It’s not just soldiers, she says, but women and children, too. More than 137 people in Ukraine have been killed as of Friday, according to USA TODAY, and hundreds more have been injured. Regular civilians have pledged to take arms and fight back against Russian troops, and even the language against oppression has evolved in the last few years, Shpylova-Saeed says.

When Russia annexed Crimea and the parts of the Donbas in 2014, she remembers hearing slogans like “Save Ukraine.” Now, she says, people are much less passive, using active phrases like, “Ukrainians will resist.” 

She points to the 13 Ukrainian soldiers, who died defending Snake Island, telling the attacking Russian warship, “Go f*** yourself.”

“We became agents of our own fate and of our own country,” Shpylova-Saeed said. “What really, really makes me applaud my compatriots is that they really want to resist. They don't want to be under occupation, full scale, led by Russia. They really are heroes in my eyes today.”

In Indianapolis, Megan Hershey is also anxiously watching developments in Zhytomyr, a northern Ukrainian city where her beloved colleagues at Last Bell Ministries care for orphaned youth in their teens and early 20s.  

“They've been through so much trauma in their own lives,” Hershey said. “So there's a lot of just being with them, checking in on them. Making sure they have their basic needs met right now.” 

Though the nonprofit is officially based in Indianapolis, Hershey says the Ukrainian and American staff across both cities are like family. Over the last few weeks, they stocked up supplies and food, according to Hershey.

“They have a lot of fear in their eyes,” Hershey said.

Now, they pray. 

'For democracy and freedom and humanity'

Though Mestetsky and his family left Ukraine when he was 9-years-old, a few years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the ongoing conflict offers a chance for reflection: the questions of 'what if.' The gratitude for his parents who immigrated to Indiana as Jewish refugees.

"It's impossible to truly wrap your head around the choice that my parents made to keep my family safe," Mestetsky said. "And watching what's going on in Kyiv now ... it really becomes clear what alternatives could have been for my life had we stayed." 

For Shpylova-Saeed, much of her story is centered around language. Like many other Ukrainians, she speaks both Ukrainian and Russian — and she's proud of that identity.

She came to the U.S. more than a decade ago, eager to continue her passion for studying how people express themselves. She "fell in love" with English at a young age, she says, and is now completing her doctorate in Slavic and East European languages.

“I really enjoyed the possibility of being more free in terms of what you can do with the material that you would like to study,” Shpylova-Saeed said. “I would say freedom is one of the key moments for me, in terms of studying in the U.S.”

She hopes the same for her home country.

“I just hope that international communities will stand by Ukraine and will support this fight,” Shpylova-Saeed said. “Not just for Ukraine but for democracy and freedom and just humanity … that's what Ukraine is choosing right now.”

Contact Rashika Jaipuriar at rjaipuriar@gannett.com and follow her on Twitter @rashikajpr.