War? What war?

We bought ice cream in Crimea. Excellent ice cream of the Gerkules brand. We’ve been buying it here for as long as I remember.
But this surprised me, because it’s a Ukrainian company, and all the products from The Independent One vanished from the peninsula’s shelves. I also know there’s no shortage of contraband. So I read the label and see: made in Donetsk. But not DPR but Ukraine.
DPR and LPR make many products. Shops in the Republics are full of them, but they all say “Made in LPR/DPR”. Sunflower seeds, groats, chicken, everything. But none of it is labeled “Ukraine”, and hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe in ’15, but it’s been so many years.
So what’s this, then?

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President Putin recognizes LDPR passports

This news has been reverberating for days.
But I didn’t at first understand what this was about.
Because LPR and DPR passports have had de-facto recognition for at least a year.
What does it mean?
As far as I understand, juridical recognition means that you can be admitted into a country that recognizes the document’s validity. Which means the customs will let you through the border.
About a year ago, in the spring, we were helping a woman from Stakhanov get into a hospital in Moscow. She had an LPR passport. She crossed the border with no trouble, and no institution anywhere rejected her passport as an official document. I even remember that the doctor, upon seeing her passport, smiled and summoned his colleagues to have a look–see, these are the passports LPR is issuing. This was in Moscow.

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The Death of Givi

Givi was killed on February 8.
One field commander is being taken out after another.
One big personality after another.
I spent the morning in happy ignorance, looking at the photos from Rome, having breakfast in a tiny town on Italy’s coast. Then I looked at my newsfeed–a long series of news items from various towns on the escalation of fighting…
You know, I can’t quite convey what’s happening. Here people don’t simply not care, our part of the world simply does not exist here. It’s absent. Wild aborigines are brawling among themselves somewhere on the shores of some islands.
Friends from Lugansk, Pervomaysk, say the shelling is regular.
“You can set your watch by it. Yesterday they started at 23:00, finished at 00:00. Today again. Punctual comrades.”

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“Everything’s fine”

My news feed has been like this. Please forgive me…
“The pumping station is without electricity again(((
There’s no water…”

“Direct it on city hospital number 2 in Makeyevka.”

“To make long story short, one has to stock up on duct tape. We’ve already spent time face down in the cellar. Without thinking. A reflex, dammit. There was no danger, only noise. So we got up. Went home, it’s cold, the balcony is open wide, and the kids are sleeping. We envied them)”
Under the post, routine comments with smilies, likes:
–Reinforced everything with tape? When we got hit, it was easier to pick up those windows that were reinforced. Those without tape were shattered into a thousand pieces, which cut everything around us (it’s better to have it all taped up and hope it will never be needed)
–Of course))) We did that back when planes were bombing. They are all still taped up, and I don’t know when I’ll peel off the tape)
–You’d kill yourself trying to take it off. And you’ll still have sticky glue on the panes, neither acetone nor gasoline will remove it.”

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The Death of Arseniy Pavlov

When I read about Motorola’s death, my insides churned.
As they did a year and a half ago when we, after an accident, in the midst of fighting, were going to the Donbass with aid, and we got a call that Zhenya Ishchenko was killed. The acting mayor of Pervomaysk. Someone who would take unexploded shells out of the asphalt with his bare hands and who delivered bread to bomb shelters even as shells kept falling. Who personally dug up people from under the rubble. Several volunteers from Moscow were killed too, and everyone thought it was us.

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