Five weeks after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine threw the two families together, Nastya Slyvka has mastered the mysteries of Irish supermarkets, while her hosts, the Kirwans, have acquired a taste for borscht.
The Kirwans were among the first in Ireland to host Ukrainian refugees in their home, an experiment thousands more Irish families are to follow, and at least in this corner of Dublin suburbia, so far so good.
The tragedy unfolding 2,000 miles to the east feels ever-present but for the hosts and their guests, cohabiting under the same roof has kindled friendship and restored some faith in humanity.
“The experience has been extremely positive. They’re phenomenal people,” said Jennie Kirwan, 40, seated at her kitchen table with her husband, Paul, while their daughters, Elsie, 10, and Aimee, eight, played in the living room with their new “brother”, Vlad, eight.
Vlad’s mother, Slyvka, 32, is relieved their odyssey from Ukraine ended in the Kirwans’ bright, spacious south Dublin home. “They treat us very well. We are very lucky to have them.” It has become normal for the two families to converse via Microsoft Translator.
Since arriving on 11 March the guests have settled into a routine. Vlad attends Rathfarnham parish national school, where Elsie and Aimee have helped him integrate. He has learned to shout “pass it” and other phrases on the football pitch. His mother makes forays to SuperValu for groceries and distracts herself from the news from home by cooking. The one thing she knew about Ireland before arriving was its creamy butter.
Both families accept they will live together until it is safe for Slyvka and her son to return home – a blurry endpoint. “Having our own space for us now is not so important because they’re part of the family,” said Jennie.
It is one story of thousands playing out across Ireland, not all of them happy. Approximately 23,500 Ukrainian refugees have arrived. About 15,000 have sought state-provided accommodation and ended up in reception centres, shelters, hotels and lodges of varying quality and suitability.
With the government running out of emergency accommodation, and hundreds more Ukrainians arriving daily, an increasing number will be funneled to some of the 23,000 people who have volunteered to host refugees in their own homes or second properties. Vetting and inspections have slowed the process. A small number of hosts have returned their guests to reception centres after balking at the implications of sharing sofas, kitchens and bathrooms with strangers.
“While it is an enormous influx, the system has coped extremely well,” said Liam O’Dwyer, the secretary general of the Irish Red Cross. “People coming in here are immediately able to access social welfare, health services, child benefit, school places etc so they are receiving the normal services and benefits of being a citizen.”
O’Dwyer’s tips for hosting are ensure everyone in the household supports the idea, grant the guests privacy, and establish house rules. “Largely it works out,” he said. He opposes UK-style financial support for hosts. “When money comes into it, it’s a different class of an animal. When it’s voluntary it’s an extraordinary act of generosity and that gets a hugely positive response.”
Many hosts disagree. They say financial support to cover higher bills would not taint altruism. “People aren’t doing it for the money, they’re doing it for their fellow humans, but energy costs have gone up 30%,” said Angie Gough, who hosts two Ukrainian families and helps run the site HelpingIrishHosts.com. “There is massive goodwill but this could last a year or more.”
The government is considering granting financial support. Money issues aside, the Kirwans say hosting can be an enriching experience. They connected with the Slyvkas early in the conflict via Ukrainian expatriates in Ireland.
Slyvka ran a small textile company with her husband, Yaroslav, in the southern city of Voznesensk. When Russian troops attacked in early March, Yaroslav drove his wife and son to the border with Moldova. He remained in Ukraine while Slyvka and Vlad trekked into Moldova, wheeling suitcases and carrying two small dogs.
A week later they flew from Bucharest, Romania, to Dublin and moved into a bedroom in the Kirwan home.
“My advice to other hosts is don’t overwhelm your guests at the start,” said Jennie, a school principal. “You may be desperate to bring them here or there, show them around, but all they’ll want at first is to stay put. Let them settle and decompress.”
Paul detailed the Kirwans’ daily routine in a four-page document he translated into Ukrainian.
Friends, relatives and local businesses sent food, clothes, toys, vouchers, cash and a bicycle. “The generosity has been insane. This puts back your faith in human nature,” said Paul.
Slyvka receives approximately €200 a week (£165) in social welfare. She offered it to the Kirwans, who declined, so uses it to buy groceries. When not cooking, she insists on ironing and tidying. “The presses [cupboards] have never been so organised,” said Jennie.
When the children are asleep the adults open a bottle of wine and converse via Microsoft Translator, which they consider better than Google’s version.
Slyvka’s phone vibrates with endless updates from home, including missile alerts. “News, news, news,” she said. She puts on a brave face for Vlad but at times has wept and howled. There is also a sense of guilt that she is safe when so many compatriots are not.
She would like to return within weeks but with Russia launching a new offensive her husband has urged her to stay put. Vlad expects to notify Father Christmas that he will be in Dublin for Christmas.
