Chioggia, ITALY – The day I learned that I would be heading to the place I now call my second home was one of the worst in my life.
How could I possibly leave Kyiv, my home in Ukraine, and head into the unknown?
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And when people ask me what my life in Kyiv was like, how do I put 12 years of my life into a dozen basic Italian words I learned on a language app?
How do I tell them about the scent of the hot roads in the summer evenings and the subtle fear you feel when you look down at people from the 16th floor, and they seem no bigger than insects?
And how do I describe the way chestnuts pull your pocket in October and the moment before you fall into the snow in December, snowflakes getting into your coat, to people from a place with oleanders and sand?
But war does not ask for opinions. So we packed our lives into suitcases and off we went – everything behind and nothing ahead.
We ended up in Chioggia, a town near Venice with about 48,000 people living in the area. It was a far cry from the capital of Ukraine with three million residents before 2022.
At first, Chioggia seemed nothing more than a temporary refuge from the war – a decorated bomb shelter.
But with time, this town found its way into my heart.
I say hi to the grocery store owner every morning on my way to school, which passes by the gorgeous Lusenzo lagoon.
I can come into our favorite coffee shop, say “as usual” and the waiter will bring me my milk with a delicious croissant.
I fell in love with the small streets of the old part of the town and its channel lined up with little boats.
I see the ships departing from the port and coming back filled with fresh fish that will be sold at the market.
I go to the stone pier with my friends and either walk to the lighthouse or watch the tourists try to catch some crabs with the nets of the fishing houses.
I run with my dog on the empty beach between seasons and look forward to swimming in the warm waters again in the summer.
I watch the orange sun, bigger than ever, go down into the lagoon.
I sometimes try to tell my friends from Ukraine about my life in Chioggia, but how do I tell them about the way the windows reflect the sun’s rays in the morning and leave a trail on the water?
And how do I find the words to describe the stars over the sea in August and the feeling of touching the sand with your bare feet for the first time after months?
I cannot say that I have only one home. Both Kyiv and Chioggia live in my soul, softly whispering stories to each other where chestnuts fall into the sea, and seagulls fly through the snow.
Sofiia Yakymenko is a Reporter with Youth Journalism International.
