The Chornobyl Exclusion Zone has fascinated Victoria for a very long time. After having watched lots of documentaries and having heard countless stories about it, she still wanted to know more about this largely abandoned area, see it with her own eyes, and talk to the people that live or work there. Working on the “Borderland Stories” project, her interest was in life in borderlands, and together with her friends Alina, Arina, and Tetiana she decided that she wanted to personally explore a borderland and go on a field trip. The idea to work on a Chornobyl-related project therefore came about quickly and spontaneously. Given that the “Borderland Stories” project was a collaboration between their university in Mykolaiv, Ukraine and Saarland University in Germany, the group of four joined an online meeting in search of German students that were interested in joining their team. This is how they met Jordi, who was eager to work on a project in Ukraine together with Ukrainian students. His interest was immediately sparked and he quickly put his initial nervousness aside when Arina presented the idea to work on a project about Chornobyl. He too was fascinated by the Zone’s relative inaccessibility and interested in the daily lives of people working and living there. Tetiana had issues with her internet connection and Alina’s microphone didn’t work, but they managed to overcome these technological hurdles, and everyone agreed to adopt Jordi into their group. Our team of five was born.

Now that the first contact had been made, our team had to find ways to stay in touch. WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger are the most used communication channels in Germany, but this is not the case in Ukraine. Therefore, Jordi downloaded Telegram to stay in touch with the team. After getting to know each other a little better – as far as that’s possible through Telegram and online meetings –, we spent the next three weeks setting up our project. We decided we wanted to travel to Chornobyl all together to interview re-settlers now living in the Exclusion Zone. The main questions we wanted to ask them were how they had experienced the 1986 evacuation, what brought them back there, and how they experienced the borders of the Exclusion Zone. Organising our field trip turned out to be a difficult puzzle that involved gathering relevant contacts, organising a personalised excursion, and travelling to Chornobyl. After having spent days discussing, calling, researching, and planning, we agreed to visit the Exclusion Zone on October 13th, 2021. Via the agency responsible for research visits to the Zone, Jordi booked a guided tour that would take us to the re-settler villages. He also booked a flight to Ukraine and bought a train ticket to Mykolaiv, where he would join the rest of the team. Victoria booked us train tickets from Mykolaiv to Kyiv, which is located just a hundred kilometres south of the Exclusion Zone.

Excited and little nervous, we all made our way to a café, where we met in person for the first time. Everyone was joyful and curious, and we immediately felt comfortable around each other. Tetiana enjoyed the positive group vibe and after having talked for just ten minutes, Arina was already sure that we would make a great close-knit team. Together we joined an online meeting with our teachers. After having deciphered their Ukrainian menu together, we had lunch in the café, got to know each other a little better and made the final preparations for our trip. Despite getting lost in translation a few times, we made good progress and the collaboration that had been developing online indeed quickly evolved into a real-life team spirit. We received an e-mail from the travel agency with the name and phone number of the guide that had been assigned to us, and we felt like we were almost ready for our trip.

In the warm afternoon sun, we explored Mykolaiv together. Arina skilfully guided us along the tree-lined avenues that boast elegant architecture on every corner, and she led us along the riverside boulevards to the marina. From there we took a tram back to the city centre. Showing their city to a foreigner, Victoria and Tetiana started looking at Mykolaiv from completely new and different perspective, and they came to the realisation that you don’t fully appreciate and take many of the beautiful sides of your hometown for granted. An example was the Church of Saint Joseph, which none of us had ever visited before. We entered the garden that surrounds the church and started talking to a nun, who had the keys to the church. She let us in and told us about its history while we marvelled at the light spectacle created by the stained-glass windows.

We were all impressed by the beauty of the city and fascinated by the different perspectives everyone had contributed to our walking tour. Walking around the city had made us hungry, so we went to a restaurant that served Ukrainian food, where Jordi crossed culinary borders. We ate different kinds of dumplings and drank uzvar, a drink

that is made by pouring hot water over dried fruits and berries, which is then left to rest. After this meal, we strolled through the longest pedestrianised street in Ukraine, visited the old harbour, and went our ways for the night.

On our second day together in Mykolaiv, we met at another café to arrange the final detail of our excursion: transportation from Kyiv to the Exclusion Zone. We would take the night train that evening and arrive in Kyiv at 7:00 the next morning, long before the first bus would depart for Chornobyl. We had already decided to rent a car for that day and drive to the Dytiatky checkpoint ourselves, so that we would be independent and flexible, and not waste any of our precious time inside the Zone. The excursion we had already booked included transportation, so getting to the Zone was the last piece of the puzzle.
This second day was in stark contrast to the first. We thought it would take around an hour to find transportation from Kyiv to the checkpoint, but the day had other things in store for us. Problems began emerging from all possible crevices and what was supposed to be a short meeting became a seven-hour ambush. After having searched for two hours, we concluded that renting a car for just one day was ridiculously expensive. We spent another two hours trying to find an affordable taxi that could bring us to the Zone, and just as we were in the process of confirming one, we received a call from the travel agency, who told us that they wouldn’t be able to arrange transportation for us inside the

Zone after all. We were expected to come with a car that had enough seats for ourselves and the guide. Given that we were a team of five, this meant that we would have to rent a seven-seater or a van. We were taken aback by this last-minute and unprofessional change of plans by the travel agency. Our joyful mood from the day before had turned into feelings of stress and tension, and we didn’t know what to do. All of us were on edge: we were hungry and angry. We decided to freshen up with Georgian food and defuse the atmosphere a little.
We were determined to not let our project fall into the water and while we were eating, we set out to find a car that matched our needs. After another two hours of searching and finding even more ridiculously priced rental cars, we found that it was cheaper to hire a taxi driver with a van that could not only take us to the Dytiatky checkpoint, but also be our driver inside the Zone. This is how we found Stanislav, who agreed to be our driver. He forwarded us his passport details and car details, which we in turn forwarded to our guide. Having finally fit the last piece of the puzzle, our spirits quickly went up again. We felt invincible and stronger than ever as a team. We enjoyed the last bites of our meals and went our ways to pack for the trip.

In the evening, we reunited at the main railway station of Mykolaiv, ready to take the night train to Kyiv. We bought some snacks and a deck of playing cards, and boarded the train. The five of us shared a compartment in one of the wagons. We shared the snacks we had bought and taught each other card games that are played in Ukraine and the Netherlands respectively. The evening was relaxed and full of laughter, and we sang along with songs from internationally known artists like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, until a passenger in our wagon told us it was getting late, and that people had work to do the next day. We made our beds and fell asleep to the sway of the train.

After a short night, but excited about the day ahead of us, we rolled into Kyiv at 7:00 the next morning. We met with Stanislav and started the two-hour drive to the Exclusion Zone checkpoint near Dytyatki. It was Tetiana’s first time in Kyiv, and for the other girls it had been years since they had visited the city, so they were quite overwhelmed. Stanislav was the best driver we could have wished for. He was very kind and full of stories. He happily told us about all the buildings, landmarks, and roads we passed. While atmospheric music was playing, we drove out of Kyiv and into the foggy fields and forests that surround the city. The road to Chernobyl had a fitting apocalyptic feel to it.

We arrived at the checkpoint around 9:30AM. Ready to not only conduct interviews, but also collect photographic material for our project, we took some pictures of the checkpoint, the fences around the Zone, and the barrier that provides access to it. After a 600-kilometre trip, we had finally reached our destination! Two of the girls went into the little office building next to the checkpoint to register our group and

to meet our guide. When they came back out after almost half an hour, their faces were grim, and with good reason: they were told not only that our guide was not there yet, but also that we would have to pay extra for the rent of nuclear radiation meters, and that the payment we had already made for the trip couldn’t be processed by the travel agency.

We had reached a financial border obstacle: Jordi had transferred the payment to them in Euro and had paid an extra €25/UAH750 in transaction costs, but because their system only accepted payments in Ukrainian hryvna they would transfer the costs of the tour back to him. We were asked to transfer the same amount again in hryvna, plus the extra costs for the rent of the radiation meters and another €25/UAH750 transaction costs. We were in disbelief, but willing to do anything to get these extra formalities out of the way, cross the checkpoint and start our journey inside the Zone. We asked if we could pay by card, which was not the case. Paying cash was not an option

either, because not only was the nearest bank a half an hour drive away, but the checkpoint didn’t accept this payment method either. We could only pay via bank transfer. On top of that, Jordi was the only one that was allowed to pay, because he was the one that had booked the tour. We became completely disillusioned when they told us that we would have to find a solution quickly, because they would have their lunch break soon. It was in this moment that Arina realized the essence of any boundary: you can be twenty meters away from your destination, and it can feel so close and so far away from you at the same time.

We were furious at the excursion agency and the people working at the checkpoint. They seemed completely indifferent to other people's money and time. After everything that we had gone through, this apathic attitude was what amazed Victoria the most. We felt powerless and started losing hope, but Jordi opened his laptop, ready to overcome this last hurdle and transfer the money to the tour agency in hryvna. However, it turned out that his bank didn’t offer the option to transfer money in hryvna, so he called them on Tatiana’s phone to ask if they could enable this option for him, which they couldn’t.

We went back into the office, explained the situation, but were told off, because there was nothing they could do about the situation. A bomb of emotions exploded: Alina burst into tears because she had now lost all hopes of ever getting inside the Zone, Arina tried cheering Alina up, Jordi laughed at the absurdity of the situation, Tetiana made cynical comments about it, and Victoria – still in disbelief – filmed the situation unfolding. We had run into an impenetrable financial border wall, literally within arm’s reach of the Exclusion Zone.

The realisation that we wouldn’t be allowed into the Exclusion Zone slowly sank in. We were confused and emotional. We felt defeated, disappointed, and powerless thinking about the long and exhausting journey, about the time, energy, and money we had put into the organisation of our excursion, and about the fact that we had stranded right in front of the gates that provide access to Chornobyl because of an issue as ridiculous as the use of different currencies. Despite the defeat, our team spirit was still intact: we were quickly able to put things into perspective and cheer each other up. We had formed a great bond over the past few days, worked hard and tried everything we could to make our tour happen. We had come up with countless alternative methods of payment, but if the tour agency really wasn’t going to budge, there was no other alternative than to head back to Kyiv, spend the day there, and make the most of it. When Stanislav took some pictures of us in front of the checkpoint, we got told off once more. This time by an angry soldier, who told us that it was forbidden to take pictures of military objects. This was the last straw: it was time to head back to the capital. Needless to say, Chornobyl did not leave the best of impressions on us.

Kyiv greeted us much more welcomingly. Stanislav dropped us off next to the central station of Kyiv. We went to a Ukrainian restaurant to have lunch and devise a new plan for the day. Ironically, despite being the only foreigner in the group and having only spent two days in Kyiv earlier that week, Jordi was the one that knew the city best. We walked to the metro but getting in proved to be yet another obstacle. Only two of us had contactless debit cards, so we had to beep the others in. Arina paid with Tetiana’s card but tried to go through the gate on the wrong side of the payment terminal. As a result, the gate closed when she was trying to pass. After everyone had passed the terminal on the right side, we made it into the right platform, took the metro, and got off in the city centre, right next to the Golden Gate. We formed a great team once again: after Arina told us about the history of the gate, Jordi guided us to a location Victoria wanted everyone to see: the Friendship of Nations Arch. A new pedestrian bridge had just been built in that place, from which an incredible view over the river Dnipro unfolded. On the way to the arch, Alina and Tetiana marvelled at the mosaic of modern buildings and architecture of the past in the city centre.

It started raining and it was getting cold, so we tried to find a coffee shop to warm up in. Every place we found was full, so we sat down under the parasol of a café that had already closed. Our teachers had heard what had happened and wanted to try and help us. Under no circumstance did we want to organise another tour with the same agency, so we looked at tourist excursions. Those would not take us to the re-settlers, but at least we would get to see Chernobyl. It turned out that it was too expensive, so we had to give up on the idea of visiting the Zone, which was completely fine by all of us. The excursion agency and checkpoint employees had completely ruined our fascination for the place, at least for now.

We were exhausted, both mentally and physically. Mentally because of the emotional roller coaster of the last few days and the many new impressions we got in Kyiv, and physically because we had had a short night on the train, driven from Kyiv to the Zone and back, and walked around the capital all afternoon. We stayed in Kyiv for the rest of the day and recharged in an Italian restaurant, where we shared some warm comfort food. We went back to the train station after dinner, where we said our goodbyes. Jordi stayed in Kyiv and the girls took a train back home. When they arrived in Mykolaiv the next morning, they dispersed as soon as they got out of the station. After the three long, adventurous, and hectic days together, we were on our own again.

Being on our own again gave us the time to process what had been a roller coaster of emotions and to reflect on the memories and friendships we had made. As a team, we had felt almost every feeling possible: we had been excited and a little nervous to meet our teammates in person, happy to explore Mykolaiv together, stressed when we had to arrange our own transportation, hopeful when we had Stanislav, and powerless and angry when we weren’t allowed into the Zone. Even though our project had failed in the way we had intended it to go, it didn’t feel like a failure, but more like an intensive course in intercultural communication. We hadn’t reached our primary goal of crossing of the physical border into the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone to interview its inhabitants, but we did realise that from all types of borders, the communicative one was most significant for our project.

We had not been afraid of the language border that existed for our team: despite having radically different native languages, we found a common working language. In addition, we crossed communication borders both within our team and in interactions with others, whether these others were our teachers, our driver Stanislav, or a random cashier in the supermarket. We did not manage to overcome all communication borders, however. Because of the completely different frame of mind of the checkpoint employees, we were unable to cross the communication border with them. This resulted in us not being able to cross the physical borders of the Exclusion Zone either. In the end, we had to abandon our initial plan and find another creative way to tell a borderland story. This story is the alternative we came up with.