Collecting primary sources is time-consuming at the best of times. Add in the complexities of a language barrier and a war? Even worse. Here’s how the project went for me in practical terms.
Collecting chevron imagery
The shops and markets that I knew sold chevrons weren’t nicely located in one little area, they sprawled across Lviv and Kyiv. A decent amount of time was spent wandering around and/or sat on public transportation. I had to be tactful in choosing how to take photos, especially in military stores[1]. My basic knowledge of the Ukrainian language came in handy here- I could ask permission to take photographs.
Translating chevrons
To demonstrate the types of phrases included on chevrons, I needed to translate them. Unfortunately the heavy use of colloquialisms, pop-culture references, and colourful language made this process beyond me. Thankfully my Ukrainian teacher was happy to use them as a learning exercise- I now have a stack of exciting new flash-cards to learn! Having a well-established relationship with my teacher was very beneficial, I imagine trying to find a new translator to discuss how you can use “cunt” as a verb would require a lot of awkward conversations.
Selecting interview participants
Again, I am incredibly thankful for my network in Ukraine. I’ve met a bunch of amazing people doing incredibly important work. I’ve built the social connections which mean I can ask them to sit down for an interview with me when normally they might dodge journalist requests. Unfortunately, them all being such amazing people doing incredibly important work means that they are very very busy. Scheduling was difficult, especially for people currently in Ukraine. In the end the best approach was to go to the place that they would be at, and sit and wait until they could speak to me.
One of my interviewees has a dog, so I had company whilst I waited
This approach worked well for English speakers, but caused problems for Ukrainian nationals who didn’t speak much English. To get the assistance of my translator, I needed to be able to set up timeslots. This wasn’t possible in the case of one of the soldiers I wished to interview as he was constantly in and out with only a few minutes to spare at a time.
Food packages being prepared in the kitchen where I hoped to speak to a soldier
As for the other soldier I hoped to interview, I met him during my work at a hospital in Lviv. He was recovering from losing one leg above the knee, and one below. He told us that the only reason he kept one knee was because he was a medic, and had spotted that the tourniquet could be moved below the joint without him bleeding out. Around the time I was doing this project he was getting fitted for his first prosthetics, which was a very complex process. Whilst he agreed to be interviewed, I didn’t want to push him on setting up a time to speak; especially as a discussion around chevrons is inherently a discussion of war. When I brought premade flashcard sets to the soldiers to help them study English, he and other severely injured soldiers politely declined the military packs.
Statue in the lobby of the hospital specialising in injured soldiers
Noisy environments
I ended up conducting all three of my interviews with Ukrainian nationals on the same night, in the same (literally) underground meeting spot. My phone microphone is not great at the best of times. There was a large amount of background noise from other people chatting, which when combined with accents made the transcription of these recordings incredibly difficult. I would play the same few seconds of audio to myself numerous times over and over again to pick out what was being said.
On a few occasions my knowledge of the Ukrainian language was very useful for comprehension. For example, one interviewee spoke about working on her notebook. The Ukrainian word “ноутбук” is similar to “notebook” and means laptop. Contextually, a laptop made more sense. There were other cases of this, such as people literally translating Ukrainian idioms into English. Whilst I could technically have conducted these interviews without any knowledge of the Ukrainian language, I believe that some of the nuance would have been lost.
Everyone is tired all the time
This trip was one of the least explosive for me, in the literal sense. Whilst we got to enjoy air raid sirens waking us up every night (sometimes multiple times), the only bangs I heard were from the air defence. No buildings in my vicinity were hit. Unfortunately my brain likes to wake me up expecting explosions sometimes, in addition to the interruptions from sirens. The constant interruptions to sleep mean everyone operates with a persistent edge of exhaustion.
Whilst I can’t speak for others, I notice the effects on myself. My brain doesn’t feel like it’s firing on all cylinders. I’m more short-tempered. I don’t want to waste time which could be spent catching up on sleep. I think that this comes across a little in my interviews conducted with people currently in Ukraine versus those which were done online. The in-person interviews were generally shorter, and more abrupt. It would be an interesting demonstration to redo such interviews after the war to see the differences sleep can make.
Tying it all together
Transcribing and compiling collected information took a lot of time. I had to do this in spite of the aforementioned sleep deprivation, and around my already busy schedule. After all, I was in Ukraine to volunteer, not for this project. This project ended up being slotted into any 20 minute gap I had, and in the late evenings where the work had ended for the day. If you’re hoping to conduct similar research, I would recommend trying to take it home before working on it!
[1] It is illegal to take photos of military personnel or military fortifications during martial law.
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