Night Train to Odesa

The blurb on the front cover says that 'Jen Stout is very brave, a storyteller of supreme gifts'. (Fergal Keane). It's a perfect description of Jen. She's not fearless, far from it, but she breenges in regardless and takes advantage of every opportunity that comes her way. The writing is very personal and she's sensitive to the plight of the inhabitants of Ukraine. She puts her interviewees at ease with her personality and gets some wonderful responses and some heartbreaking stories.

She describes the friendships she builds with the people she meets in a way that lets us get to know the characters and get a feel for what life is like in these war-torn cities. One of my favourite scenes was of the bakery in Kharkiv.

The thick walls of the old building made it a good shelter. But they also kept the heat in, much better than the thin walls of Tanya's apartment. 'If there's electricity and we can use the ovens, it will be warm inside. I think a lot of people could stay here,' she said. These girls, I thought, really had built a hearth. I was finding warmth and determination all over the place, when what editors expected was fear and despair. This had often been an issue, and I tried to explain that the resilience I described wasn't an individual phenomenon but society-wide. The more Russia attacked Ukrainian society, the less inclined people were to despair. They only got angrier.

Another heartwarming scene was the dancing in the Teatralna metro station in Kyiv. If you look up Jen's website, you can see photos to accompany these stories, including a beautiful shot of a couple dancing in the metro station. Music features a lot in the book—from buskers on the streets to charity gigs and music therapy for children. That makes me happy.

I also loved that she included some Scots language and culture — 'are you, aye?' That bit had me chuckling. (It's a humorous Scots response to someone making a ridiculous statement about themselves). And the reference to the hilarious lift scene in Burnistoun, where the voice-activated lift can't understand a Scotsman shouting out his floor, 'eleven!' How did that make its way to Ukraine?

Jen doesn't shy away from describing some heartbreaking scenes, too. The search for Volodymyr in Kapytolivka was difficult to read but tactfully described. Her trip with the young drone operators was exciting, and the scene where she accidentally hopped into the truck going to the more dangerous city of Siversk instead of waiting for her ride to Chasiv Yar made for an interesting story.

I've come away from reading this book with a sense of hope for Ukraine. Jen perfectly portrays the resilience of the Ukrainian people, and I felt her love for the country blossoming as she got to know it. At one point, she even mentions that she'd considered staying. I hope she goes back and keeps writing her stories to share with us.