The War Next Door

 I've been in a war. Wars are horrible. But I am currently in Romania for the month of July and I was wondering prior to arrival if I would see any evidence that I am next door to a war.

Romania shares a border with Ukraine. I actually illegally entered Ukraine briefly many years ago. We were on an excursion in the Danube Delta, at a place where a river divides the two countries. We crossed the river to the other side simply so we could say we were once in Ukraine. 

The somewhat high-ranking Romanian border official who was conducting the trip told me it was a bit reckless to do so, since being found there even in the remote possibility that Ukrainian authorities appeared on the scene would have meant that I, a former Intelligence officer, would be detained for probably some days while they sorted out that the incursion was harmless. We did it nonetheless, by my insistence.

But I think back on it now, in light of Ukraine having its sovereign territory invaded by another country and I am ashamed I did this. It was, in principle, wrong. I mean, sure, it goes onto the long list of things I have done wrong in my life, but it was indeed wrong and I own it as such.

I was downtown in Bucharest yesterday. I half expected to see a number of US soldiers there. A few thousand extra US soldiers have been stationed at bases we have here in Romania as part of NATO's ramp up of forces to show Russia we are willing to protect our eastern front. I thought that some of these US soldiers might be showing up as tourists in the downtown while they enjoyed time off from duty. But the fact is, these bases are nowhere near Bucharest. They are probably enjoying Constanta and the Black Sea coast, not the charming downtown of this city.

Evidence that we are next door to a war is not completely non-existent however. We invited our neighbors Vali and Virgil out to our favorite pizzeria here. Working there right now is a Ukrainian refugee named Svetlana. We had met her a few days previously while inviting another friend to that spot. Svetlana speaks no Romanian and very broken English. She works very hard while she is all alone here in Romania. Her only family is a mother still in Odessa. Trust me, she is not stealing a job from some Romanian. The staffing shortage/crisis is as bad here as anywhere. 

She is late 20's, very blonde. And she doesn't really ever smile. Under the current circumstances, you can't blame her. With her broken English, we had been able to learn her name and her situation. But last night while she was clearing our table of plates, my wife told our neighbors her back story. And my neighbor Virgil, knowing they don't share a common language wanted to express solidarity with her. He put two fingers below his eyes, drew them slowly down, signifying tears, then touched his heart and pointed to her. 

She said, "Thank you." Virgil does know what that means. And she smiled.

This simple yet profound gesture of sympathy for another person moved me greatly.

As a priest under the Patriarchate of Moscow, I pray at every Mass "May this sad fratricidal war speedily cease." The unwillingness of my Patriarch to speak out against this war is, in my opinion, a moral failing. 

A look at CNN right now does not acknowledge that there is a war in Ukraine. And so, I set out into another day next door to that war--a war I fear is barely discernible anymore outside those borders I once also breached.