I need to tell you about my experience in Ukraine, that was neither what I expected nor what you would expect from a photographer and writer going to a warzone.
I was alone in Ukraine. A mother of 2, a blogger, a South African who does not speak a stitch of Ukrainian and who was travelling in a war zone with zero friends or connections! It was during those first couple days that I self-diagnosed myself as stark-raving mad, however that kind of thinking did not make things better or change the fact that ‘it's too late baby girl, you’re already in Ukraine.
She had to be on her way, she had to get back home before her husband did. Not to cook dinner, or to help her children with their homework but simply to be there for him, and only him.
Gladys greeted the group of women and placed the pot of tea in the centre of the table, continuing to smile her well-practiced smile. She’d learned many years ago how to pull the corners of her mouth up into a beaming smile, deluding all in her presence of the ugliness she’d experienced and witnessed.