BLOG

Contributed by Katarina Lazaruk

     I have said that a million times in the more than 22 countries I have traveled to in the past ten years, including China, Indonesia, and Tibet, among others.

​     Only now, it seems so much different.

     ​I was in Poland when the war broke out, having moved there for work in November. My mother was in Western Ukraine, about 250 km from Poland. From this vantage point, the first few days of war were like a disaster; it was a time of panic, fear, and despair. 

     Certain things became automatic. Air raid sirens meant an incoming rocket attack, and residents would run to the nearest bomb shelter, basement, or underground parking lot. My mother ended up spending many frightening nights in her basement. 

     ​The war in Ukraine became even more severe.  I tried in vain to get my mother to the Polish border. Yes, there were trains, but they were dangerous and always possible targets of Russian aggression. Trains are central to life in my country. We do not have a fully developed highway system in my country, and we rely on trains to connect us. The Russians know this. They were hitting the railroads to divide us.  

     My mother was lucky. She managed to take a train to  Lviv, the closest city to Poland. But her troubles were not over. At the station, there were a lot of drivers with private vans who were offering to drive people the remaining distance to the Polish border. Apparently, even my fellow citizens found a way to profit in wartime. A ride that should cost $15 was now $45. It was even worse in Kyiv, where it could cost $2,000 to escape Hell. 

     Even at these prices, there was demand, and my mother spent 28 hours at the border, waiting in a queue for hours before she managed to leave Ukraine. After seeing each other in Poland, she moved on to Italy. She was fortunate. She speaks Italian and has friends there.

     ​I took a different path. 

     ​When the war began, I joined with other Ukrainian volunteers to help refugees who were pouring into Poland. I also raised money to buy supplies that we shipped back to our home. I even donated blood which was sent to Ukrainian hospitals.  

     Then I got sick and developed a high fever. My boss was not sympathetic and told me I was expected to come to work. I trudged on, but the illness only got worse. I developed breathing problems and a severe cough. There were no doctors available in the hospital, and they said it would be for days before I could get an appointment. But even with a valid appointment, they didn't see me.   I discovered that according to Polish law, as an employed foreigner, I needed tax documents from work, but my company refused to provide them. The Human Resources people said there were too busy.  I found out there were over 200 other employees, and HR could not immediately fulfill everyone's requests. 

     My mother had made a doctor's appointment for me in Rome, but the obstacles proved insurmountable. There was no direct train; I would have to go from Poland to Germany and then to Rome, changing trains eight times. It was just too much. I was ill, and I had too many belongings to simply hop from train to train. I decided to go back to Ukraine.

     In the end, I took a nine-hour train ride to Przemysł by train and then a bus to Lviv. I was back in Hell, but I did not have much choice. The whole way, I expected to be bombed at any moment. On the way, all along the way, I saw huge queues at gas stations as the country was now suffering from a fuel shortage. 

     Once in Lviv, I took a train back to my hometown. After six months, I finally slept in my own bed; I had taken the precaution of covering my windows with fabric, just in case an explosion might blow out the glass. I collapsed on the bed, exhausted, but the night was peaceful.

Not so the next night. The air raid sirens were back, but I was too tired to do anything more than hide in the bathroom.

     At least that seemed safer than sleeping next to the window in my bedroom.

At least here, I was able to get to a hospital where they diagnosed me with developing asthma.  With the condition treated, I once more made my way west, to the border and back into Poland, and from there on to Rome. It all began again, with another long journey and even longer queues. Such is the stuff that war is made of. 

     After another 20 hours, I was in Rome. Now, I am here, just hoping this all will finish soon.

Contributed by Mark Barnette

In a spot where the desert meets the sea, a city appeared out of nowhere, like a singular palm out of the sand. It is truly a miracle of creation and a testament to one man’s determination and vision. Less than one lifetime ago, Dubai was a small village, and now it is a world-class city of over three million people.

The city reflects its residents with a population from literally everywhere, and foreign workers outnumber local citizens almost ten-to-one. While Arabic is the official language, English is the most common, and if you listen carefully, you can hear smatterings of Chinese, German, Russian, and Spanish, among others.

Despite its size, the city is incredibly safe. You can walk safely on the streets at 3 am and not worry about looking over your shoulder. Crime is virtually unknown, and justice is both swift and certain for those who try it. 

The city is home to all the world’s major companies and industries, from technology to banking to shipping. In fact, Dubai has the world’s largest shipping port, serving as a central transportation hub between Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and Asia.

For those visiting – and a visit to Dubai should be on everyone’s bucket list – there is so much to see and do, from water parks that put Disney to shame, to a spectacular museum of the future. If shopping is your thing, a visit to Dubai Mall should be on your bucket list. It is one of the world’s largest malls – if not the largest mall – and it sits next to the tallest building. It is so large that there several high-end stores that have two locations within it, and they even offer an app for the mall that you can download to help you find your way. 

There are literally miles of options for those who want to skip the innumerable tourist sites and lounge on the beach. You have public beaches and beach clubs you can join for the day, week, or month, depending on the length of your stay.

The best times to visit are between mid-September and mid-May. During this time, the weather will remind you of Santa Barbara or Santa Monica. The rest of the time, it feels more like Miami; the two cities sit at approximately the same latitude. 

Despite everything you can see and do, the prices are surprisingly very reasonable. While the city equals or exceeds the world’s other great cities, the prices are affordable overall. There is so much to see and do that it cannot all be covered here, so do some research and see this incredible place for yourself, and do it now.