'The UK is my home now but you never forget you are a refugee'
For Roxy leaving everything she knew behind was "an emotional struggle" that came with conflicting feelings."Although you feel at home, you never forget you're a refugee," she says."You don't only think about the country you left, you think about the life you left."
Roxy and her mother moved in with Nikki Cohen in Leeds as part of the government's Homes for Ukraine scheme.Adapting to a new life in a different country did not come without its challenges and surprises."When Alla and Roxy came to Leeds, I think they assumed everybody sat down with a scone and jam everyday at four o'clock and drank tea out of china cups," Ms Cohen laughs.The decision to open her home to them was in part influenced by Ms Cohen's own family history."My great-grandparents came to this country as refugees from what is now Lithuania," she says."I just felt really strongly that, heaven forbid, if I was in the same situation I'd want people to open their doors."
The heartbreak of war includes not only the loss of life but the loss of a sense of normality.Ola Kasperovych, 18, says when she had to leave Ukraine's capital Kyiv, she felt her life was "ruined"."I had so many plans, I was going to finish school, I was going to go to university," she says.Ola and her mother ended up living with Homes for Ukraine hosts Jan and Rob Livesley in Sheffield.Without the ability to speak English, Ola says her first few months in the UK were "hell"."It was hard to make new friends, it was hard to speak to other people because a lot of people think if I'm from Ukraine, I'm really different.""[I] was overwhelmed with studying and exams. It was important, I was so stressed."
Last year, Ola's life was once again turned upside down when her mother, a doctor, was called back to Ukraine to help in a hospital."I have never lived alone," she says."I'm in a new city, a new country, it was really hard to understand."Luckily, Ola had the support of Mr and Mrs Livesley who she says have become "like grandparents"."I really appreciate what they've done for me," she says.Mrs Livesley says since Ola's arrival, they have created many wonderful memories, including trips to the Lyceum in Sheffield and Chatsworth House in Derbyshire at Christmas."We've become a blended family," says Mrs Livesley."We're all different and we all bring something different to the party."There's lots of nice things we've been able to do and build up our own little traditions too."
Ola currently volunteers at DE Yummy, a Ukrainian cafe in Sheffield, which is run by Angelina and her mother.Angelina, 18, came to the UK in 2022 after losing her home."I think it's one of the most dangerous parts of Ukraine," she says."For four days we didn't have any electricity and had to be in the shelter and couldn't get out while the bombs fell."Angelina credits her settled life in the UK to her host family who helped them set up the business."If not for them, I wouldn't be here," she says."We became not just sponsors and Ukrainians who live in their house, we became family."Listen to highlights from West Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, catch up with the latest episode of Look North or tell us a story you think we should be covering here.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mirror
an hour ago
- Daily Mirror
Gardening expert names five trees to avoid planting in your garden at all costs
There are plenty of trees to choose from to add a bit more greenery in your garden, but some are best avoided according to a professional gardener and plant pro When you're looking to bring extra dimension and greenery to your garden, trees are fantastic for doing this. There's an enormous variety of different species to select from, each offering their own distinctive charm and character depending on the aesthetic you're aiming to create. However, one horticultural expert has warned people against repeating the same errors he made when introducing trees to his garden. Edward Bowring, plant specialist from Homes and Gardens, explains that not every tree is appropriate for your back or front garden. He's identified the five varieties he would never grow again, due to the potential harm they can inflict. He explained: "Aggressive and invasive root systems, adventurous suckers, self-seeding and even toxicity are just some of the issues I have had to manage over my career as a professional gardener." 1. Staghorn sumac Appearing as either a shrub or compact tree, this specimen might transform into a stunning burnt orange shade during autumn - but the expert warns it possesses a 'suckering' tendency and can dominate other vegetation in your garden. It can proliferate through seeds, suffocating rival plants and taking over a compact garden, so it's probably wise to steer clear of planting these, reports the Express. 2. Cherry laurel These thick evergreen specimens grow remarkably quickly, making them excellent for creating privacy in your garden. However, exercise caution - they can also become oversized and deprive other plants of light if positioned too closely. However, they are also harmful to pets and humans. Edward cautioned: "With memories of arduously hand-pruning great lengths of laurel hedging so as not to leave an untidy finish at a previous garden I managed, it is certainly a tree I would never plant again." 3. Black walnut Despite its beauty and striking appearance, you might want to reconsider planting this tree in your garden. According to the expert, it demands a lot of maintenance, including regular pruning, even during winter. The black walnut tree also secretes a chemical known as juglone, which is toxic to many plants. Combine this with the mess created by the tree dropping fruit in the garden, and it's probably not worth the hassle. 4. Weeping willow This enchanting, fairytale-like tree is ideal for creating a shady spot in your garden. However, if you're dealing with limited space, you might want to think twice - according to the expert, it can grow and spread up to 50ft. Its rapid growth and extensive moisture-seeking root system, which can damage underground plumbing, makes it unsuitable for planting near a house. 5. English oak Lastly, this robust and sturdy tree is excellent for attracting wildlife and providing shade in a garden. But similar to the weeping willow, they require a lot of space and should never be planted in a small garden. They demand a lot of pruning to keep them healthy and prevent branches from falling, and you'll need to spend a lot of time in autumn clearing away fallen acorns and leaves. As well as this, its roots spread extensively and can cause damage to pavements and driveways.
Spectator
13 hours ago
- Spectator
The glorious richness of rillettes
I admit to feeling a little intimidated by charcuterie. I have a clutch of books on my shelf all laying out in step-by-step detail how to craft your own salami or whip up a perfect pancetta. They're well-thumbed, but not a single one has a cooking stain on it. I'm just too nervous when it comes to the scary stuff. I'm talking about the drying-sausages-hanging-from-the-rafters kind of charcuterie. I'm talking about jerry-rigging anti-pest guards to protect your hams. I can't quite get past the fact that charcuterie requires hanging meat somewhere in my house, which feels at best frightening and at worst like I'm actively inviting botulism into my home. I'll say it: I'm a charcuterie coward. But what I sometimes forget is that charcuterie is just a means of preserving cooked meat. And that doesn't need to mean an ultra-marathon of preservation; it could just be a gentle amble. So let's step back and see what happens if we cook a bit of pork. Rillettes are a cooked pork spread, a little like pâté, although don't let the French hear you say that. They're made by cooking lean pork and pork fat together very, very slowly, until the fat melts and the meat collapses. It's a lot like confit, and in the same way, the excess fat is then used to seal the cooked meat in pots, which, when cool, forms an impermeable layer, eliminating oxygen and preserving the meat. It's really the French version of potting meat; where the English used butter to create an airtight product, the French used the fat from the animal. Of course, now we have fridges and freezers, so having to preserve large portions of meat is far less of an issue. The reason, then, to make rillettes today is that they're delicious. Rillettes can be made of pork, or rabbit, or duck, or a combination thereof, but classic rillettes are made solely from pork. These rillettes have been made in Tours in France since the Middle Ages, where they were a peasant food that used off-cuts. This was picked up in the 18th century by local butchers, who began to use whole joints for the process. They boast 'protected designation of origin' status, which means that if you want to call your product 'rillettes de Tours', they need to be made in the city and follow a particular recipe. Even the colour of the finished product is dictated by legislation. My rillettes don't stray too far from the prescribed recipe. I prefer brandy to the more traditional wine, and I add it after cooking, just enough to thrum through the pork. And I cook the whole thing in the oven, rather than on the hob, because it requires less of me and the effect is very similar. The pork is cooked with bay and thyme, crushed black peppercorns and juniper berries, and then finished with a generous grating of nutmeg. Just before potting, they need to be seasoned robustly with lots of salt and pepper, remembering that you are tasting something warm which will ultimately be eaten cold, and low temperatures dull flavours, so seasoning should be exaggerated. Some rillette-makers use a stand mixer with a beater attachment to really go to town on the meat, almost whipping it into a mousse. But I like it to retain some texture and, frankly, still to look like meat, more terrine than parfait. A wooden spoon will do the trick, combined with a little elbow grease, and the pork will break down very quickly. If covered thoroughly with the melted fat, the rillettes will keep for weeks in the fridge – but once you've broken into the fat layer, finish the pot within a couple of days. The richness of the rillettes demands contrast when served: they need crunch, sharpness, sweetness. So I serve mine with sliced French stick, warmed briefly in the oven to soften the fridge-chill shock of the rillettes, and always with lots of the smallest cornichons that I can find, and then something bittersweet and sprightly. I love marmalade, actually, a proper one, with Seville orange, or an Italian mostarda di frutta – neither of which are even faintly authentic accompaniments, but if they're delicious, who cares? Serves: 8-10 as a starter Hands-on time: 30 minutes Cooks: 4 hours 1kg pork shoulder 300g pork belly 20 black peppercorns 20 juniper berries 1 tbsp fresh thyme 4 bay leaves (plus extras for garnish) 200ml water 60ml brandy ½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg Black pepper, freshly ground, to taste Preheat the oven to 150°C/130°C fan. Remove any rind from the meat and discard. Dice the belly, then pare the fat away from the shoulder meat, and dice both fat and meat into 2in cubes. Place all meat and fat in a large, heavy-bottomed pan in a single layer. Crush the peppercorns and juniper in a pestle and mortar, and add to the meat, along with thyme and bay leaves. Add 200ml water, and bring to a gentle simmer. Once simmering, place a tight-fitting lid on the dish, and transfer to the oven. Cook for four hours, stirring every hour to ensure it's not sticking (add a splash more water if it is). After four hours, the fat should have melted, and the meat should be extremely tender. Spoon the meat into a sieve, collecting the liquid fat in a bowl underneath. Transfer the meat to another bowl, and beat with a spoon until it has completely broken up and begins to come together into a near-paste. Stir in the brandy, then season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Spoon the meat into ramekins, pressing down to eliminate air bubbles. Place a bay leaf on top of each ramekin for garnish, and then spoon on the reserved fat until you have a complete layer of fat sitting on top of the meat. Refrigerate until completely cold.
Scotsman
a day ago
- Scotsman
Edinburgh festivals diary: Edinburgh, I am ashamed of you after experiencing anti-Fringe aggression
An experience of anti-English prejudice results in our diarist Jane Bradley feeling unwelcome in her own home town. Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter, get the latest news and reviews from our specialist arts writers Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Edinburgh, I was ashamed of you last night. I was ashamed of us. I had my first experience of anti-Fringe, anti-English aggression. I was sitting at a picnic bench in George Square Gardens when a couple asked if they could take the two empty seats opposite me. I explained that my daughter and my cousin were sitting there, but had gone to pick up their food from a nearby truck. The pair went on their way to look for different seats, perfectly happy. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad George Square Garden. Half an hour later, a woman who had been sitting further down the same bench got up to leave and stumbled her way over to us, her male companion hovering sheepishly behind her. "Why did you not let that couple sit there before?" she asked aggressively, indicating the two inches of spare bench between my teenage daughter and the people sitting next to us. I explained again, somewhat unnecessarily now as they were both right there, that my companions were using the seats. "They could have squeezed up," she argued, shouting in my face (they couldn't). And here came the kicker: "This is NOT how we do things in Edinburgh." Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad I can see why she assumed I wasn't local. I have a (northern) English accent. I was, having come straight from work, wearing a Fringe lanyard. My cousin is American and, like many Fringe performers, under 30. To this woman, we must have looked like a fly-by-night, probably London-based Fringe show team having the time of our lives 'doing Edinburgh'. The kind she, despite the fact she was choosing to spend her own evening at the Fringe, clearly hates. In reality, I have lived in Scotland for more than 25 years: far longer than I ever lived in England and almost my entire adult life. My daughter is Edinburgh born and bred. None of this should matter. We are all Jock Tamson's bairns. But for the single reason that we appeared to belong to a non-Scottish, visiting, Fringe show, she chose to attack us. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Some of us locals love it, others - particularly understandable, those who live close to a busy Fringe venue with constant noise and disruption throughout August - hate it. But whatever we think of the Fringe, or of any of the other festivals, this kind of personal abuse is unacceptable. If I had actually been an English Fringe performer visiting Edinburgh for the first time, I would have felt horribly unwelcome. As it was, I felt horribly unwelcome in my own home town. This is not how we do things in Edinburgh. Polo on the big screen at the Pleasance Dome. | Contributed How many people actually play polo? The TV sports entertainment on the big screen in the Pleasance Dome on Tuesday was somewhat unusual, particularly for (weather postponed) 2-4-1 ticket day, when the whole point is inclusivity and accessibility - an affordable Fringe for all.
