The refugee radio station broadcasting the war in Ukraine from Barcelona

BarcelonaThe word kuhinja means kitchen in many Slavic languages. But in the former Soviet republics its meaning evokes something else. As during communism, apartments were small and often shared, kuhinja It was the only space where people—and especially women—could speak without fear, share dissenting ideas, and support each other. A refuge where family stories, secrets, and worries were shared. Ukrainian Creative Radio, broadcast from Barcelona, recaptures that spirit, except here it's spoken out loud. This station, run by Ukrainian women in exile, has become a key community space for the diaspora in Barcelona: a kujinha where to take refuge and lean on.

"First of all, have something," says Eugenia, as she hands out a piece of chocolate in the studios of Radio Kanal Barcelona, on Gran Via. She brought it from the south of France, where she just returned from vacation. "It's a tradition in our country," she says. Despite the heat outside, Anastasia serves the rest of the group tea, which they sip calmly while explaining how their week has been and reviewing the program's script.

The radio they do isn't limited to reporting on the war. Soldiers and their families, refugees who have started artistic projects, or newcomers who need guidance and community, find a space to share personal stories. They talk about grief and the difficulties of living in exile, but also about literature, music, childhood memories, or the typical dishes they miss. Sometimes they invite psychologists, and other times, Catalans who can give practical advice on how to adapt to their new life.

"We started without a concrete idea. The only thing we knew was that we had to help the people who are here, during the war, without their families," says Katrine. This film director who is the soul of the project had never done radio. But when an Irishman invited her to his broadcast about immigrants in Barcelona, she realized she had so much to say that she could make her own show. The first episode lasted only ten minutes and featured the famous Ukrainian actress Nastya Kamensky as a guest. "If your first show you have a star, it means it will be a show stellar," she says, laughing.

Then she put out a call on Facebook: on the first night alone, they received 160 messages. From that spontaneous avalanche emerged a team made up entirely of women. They all come from different backgrounds and none of them knew each other before arriving in 2, they began arriving in Catalonia. Ukrainian who paid for the recording studio so they could make the podcast. Since then, they have been covering the price with donations from the diaspora and their own contributions. "BK_SLT_LNA" A very vulnerable group that needs help and support," says Katrine. She knows what she's talking about. Like the other participants on the station, she is no stranger to the problems affecting her country, she simply He experiences them from a distance and with the added difficulty of being far from his family."For me, this project is going to position Ukraine and the Ukrainian people," says Eugenia. "We still have a war, and we have to keep telling the world about it," she adds.

This poet came to the radio station as a guest, but decided to stay on as a volunteer because she felt very comfortable: "It's the place where we open our creative hearts and share our experiences." Gayane, the art director, agrees, explaining that for her the project was a "lifeline." The first few months after her arrival in Catalonia were "incredibly hard." The stress paralyzed her, and she couldn't work, she says. With the move, she also lost the job she loved so much. So she decided to collaborate with the radio station by designing two banner ads, and the warmth she found there compelled her to stay.

Three Years in Captivity

Today's broadcast is called Three years in captivity. The protagonists, who speak via video call from Ukraine, are three Ukrainian women with husbands who have been together for more than three years. prisoners of war in Russian handsPsychologist Hanna Shmatukha also participates, giving listeners advice on how to cope with absence, mourning, and war.

Inna is especially nervous because today is the first time she'll be hosting, after a long time handling numbers and production. In Ukraine, she worked as an economics teacher at a high school, but since arriving here, she has another dream, she says: to open her own cafe. What will be discussed in today's episode resonates bitterly with her: her husband died in the forehead just a year ago. Like the guests, not a single day goes by that she doesn't miss him. "He said that if God gives us the land, we must protect it. That's why he enlisted voluntarily," she says. When they found him, he was wearing a watch on his wrist. It still kept the time. Inna has kept it and wants it to hang on the wall of her business. "It's proof that our love will never stop," she says.

At one point in the show, Shmatukha pulls out a motanka. This rag doll, handmade from fabric, thread, and clothing scraps, is deeply rooted in Ukrainian folklore. The same is true of embroidery, which, in addition to being an artistic expression, is an important symbolic element of the country's heritage. Shmatukha emphasizes the healing power that handcrafting can have on grief after suffering trauma.

From outside the studio, however, you can't hear what they're saying. Through the glass, you can see them laughing knowingly. Beyond the motorcycles and embroidery, the true healing power seems to be here: in that space where conversation is a form of resistance.