Lithuania
We visited Lithuania in the summer of 2022, a few months after the war in Ukraine started.

Edgaras Klasinski is from a Russian family and struggles with his identity. On the day of the invasion, he starts writing a song and making a video about Putin and the Russians who do nothing against him. He also writes several Facebook blogs in which he shares his personal experiences and evolving perspectives as a Russian-speaking Lithuanian. One of these goes viral, attracting hundreds of responses.
Dasha lived in Mykolaiv, Ukraine, when the war started. She stayed there for 3 weeks, until the Russian military entered the city and she decided to flee. She ended up in Klaipeda, where she started to work in a surf camp. Sometimes a group of Ukrainian children visits the camp, where they can learn to surf for free.
Four months after the war broke out, Diana Kosolapova's family fled via Russia and Latvia to Lithuania. A cousin in Russia - whose husband is fighting in the Ukrainian army - helped them get the necessary travel documents. Now, she lives with her parents in a small apartment in Kaunas and has resumed her studies in Graphic Design.
“I was afraid for soldiers in the Donbas. My parents tried to calm me down. They told me that these soldiers are here to protect me, so I can live as normally as possible. Now, my doctor is helping to better understand my own fears. I keep hearing a voice that says: everything will be okay. I realize now that this isn’t normal. I’m probably just trying to calm myself in some way. In Ukraine, if you can’t think positively, you inevitably end up with mental health issues.”
Vasily Loban, the eighty-year-old grandfather of Tomas Sipko, spends every summer at his dacha in a suburb of the capital Vilnius, where he grows vegetables and watches talk shows on channels like Russia Today. Since July 8, 2022, Russian state media have been banned from the regular broadcast offerings.
“The Russians make really great shows,” says Tomas, “where fantasy and propaganda blend together. When I’m at my grandfather’s place, I see fragments where they say absolutely ridiculous things. And the statements are becoming more extreme. We have a little chat, but I can’t convince him of my viewpoints. That’s why I avoid political topics now.”
In Klaipeda 16 years old Valerija Kushnerova tells that when she's not at school, she prefers to hang out with friends. She's from a Russian family and doesn't speak Lithuanian, which is why she has little contact with the Lithuanian community. This is something we often saw in our conversations with young people: a language barrier that, 32 years after Lithuanian independence, still creates two separate worlds.
“I can’t write about war and make it funny. When I sit down and try to put my thoughts on paper about the war and everything that’s going on, I get very serious and emotional. It’s tough to find the humor in it. You know, there’s that saying ’too soon’ when someone tries to make a joke about something tragic and it just doesn’t land.”





































