Solidarity and French bureaucracy: the Ukrainian refugees of Paris

Issued on: 26/03/2022 – 19:36

The war in Ukraine has stunned the world and triggered unprecedented international solidarity with millions of people fleeing Russian bombs ever since the conflict broke out on February 24. While the humanitarian response has been swift, resources in countries where Ukrainians have sought refuge are being stretched.

“The Paris prefecture is closed over the weekend”, a group of security guards informs a small gathering of disoriented Ukrainian refugees upon their arrival at the “Welcome Ukraine” centre at Porte de Versailles, in south-west Paris on Saturday. The Paris municipal website claims the centre is open seven days a week, from 9 am to 6 pm, but today its administrative services are closed. Only the Ukrainians in need of housing are accepted. The refugees who arrive at the centre stoically accept the news and exit meekly out through the gates of the pavilion, clutching their personal belongings and identification papers.

Martine and her husband Pierre, French citizens, have come to the centre with Svetlana, 53 years old, and her daughter Alyssa, 19 years old, refugees from Ukraine. All four of them seem at a loss as to what to do next after learning that the administrative branches of the centre are closed. They linger in the sunshine of the early spring morning and exchange phone numbers with an authoritative Russian-speaking woman who has showed up with another group of refugees and provides advice on how to navigate the labyrinth of French bureaucracy. 

When asked how they met their charges, Martine says, “Through Mozambique!” a hint of a smile behind her mask. “My son lives in Mozambique where he has a friend who asked him if we could help”. The French couple agreed to come to the aid of the two women despite knowing nothing of their past and having to grapple with a language barrier.

A gruelling trip through Europe

They learned, with the help of Google Translate and Google Maps, where Svetlana and Alyssa had come from: the left bank of the Dnieper River, in a city called Dnipro. They learned that the two women had taken a gruelling five-day trip after leaving Ukraine, traveling by bus from Poland to Berlin, then taking a plane from Berlin to Paris, before arriving in Meudon, a French town a few kilometres away from the “Welcome Ukraine” centre. Martine and her husband had picked them up from another person’s residence that very morning.

The UNHCR counted a total of 3,772,599 Ukrainian refugees on its website on Saturday, an increase of 46,793 since the last count on Friday. Along with Poland, Romania and Moldavia have been taking in most of the refugees and are under immense pressure to welcome and in many cases resettle more and more of those fleeing. Many of refugees are trying their luck and going west, whether or not they have family or friends awaiting them.

While it is still uncertain whether Svetlana and Alyssa will obtain the status of temporary protection in France, “they want to be autonomous and find work, which is the hardest part”, says Martine. As of March 23, France has accepted 26,000 refugees from Ukraine, 10,500 of whom have received temporary residence permits. 

Individuals respond immediately

“Associations are able to provide lodging but individuals are better at providing immediate responses like finding schools for children, feeding people, helping them obtain documents”, says Martine. “It’s natural for me to help because a century ago my grandfather left Odessa in a boat. He was fleeing the civil war in Russia. It touches me to see people going through the same struggles today”.

Svetlana and her daughter, who had left the site to take out money from a cash machine, return, looking surprisingly happy as they stroll together in the spring weather along the avenue Ernest Renan. Rejoining Martine and Pierre, they then walk away from the centre toward an unknown future, their destinies temporary linked because of the war.

At noon, a bus arrives and a large crowd disembarks. Many carry suitcases and backpacks, a baby screams in the distance. Those brought to the centre by the Red Cross, will only stay at the centre for one or two days before leaving for other parts of France. At the same time, Olena and her father, from Cherkasy, arrive at the gates of the welcome centre. 

“I invited my father to France for his birthday and because it was the kid’s vacation, but the war broke out and he stayed with us”, says Olena, a resident of France. “We are here because my father had cancer and if anything happens to his health I want him to be covered by the French security system”.

Her mission today is to obtain the Carte Vitale for her father, the green and yellow card with a microchip that allows holders to access the French healthcare system but they are turned away and told to return Monday.

Olena says that her father will stay with her family however long the war lasts. “Everybody wants to go home”, she says, tears welling up in her eyes.