FOOD AND HOT TEA

The long trek was made longer by deep snow and an icy breeze. After eight hours they’d made it to the agreed location. Before making the call, they waited another hour to determine they hadn’t been followed. Wolf was the name they were given for the man who would be on the other end of the line. The phone didn't even ring before it was picked up. Wolf confirmed their location and told them to wait for a car he said would arrive within half an hour. Frozen and famished they tucked themselves behind some rocks in a cluster of trees near the road. Another hour passed.

Finally a car showed up. It slowed, pulled a u-turn in front of them, and stopped as the driver frantically waved and yelled to the pair in Hindi. They dashed from the trees into the car’s waiting rear seat. They were told it would probably be another two hours to the border and that the driver could only get them part way. He explained that at the end of the line they would still have to cross another snowy wasteland on foot to escape. The distance was crossed quickly. As soon as some warmth beginning penetrating their frozen boots and bones, they were told they’d arrived. Though there had been no other cars in sight the whole time, the driver encouraged them to scramble from the road to remain out of sight. He pointed toward a hill in the distance and told the pair to walk in that direction until they reached the river. All they had to do, the driver said, was cross the river and they would be in Russia. Another call to Wolf once on the other side and another car would be arranged to get them to the safehouse.

It was a three hour hike to the river. There were no signs of civilization there or along the way. When they got to the river, they spent another hour looking for a safe place to cross and another hour attempting to do so, twice nearly breaking through. Though they were so close and just wanted to dash across, they reasoned that they couldn't afford to get wet, not knowing the depth of the narrow river or how long the wait would be on the other side, and with no means or desire to create a fire, they felt certain, in this weather, a soaking would, at best, result in hypothermia. But they did make it across. They scrambled up some rocks and into the only patch of forest thick enough to conceal their presence.

Feeling some relief, Aadi offered, “Best 394,000 rupees I ever spent.” Dialling the phone, Ram replied, “We’re not there yet.” Ram gave Wolf their location and was told a truck was on its way. Aadi began speaking of home and of how he found himself in this predicament. He cursed the government, saying that if they weren’t so corrupt he and his brother and their friends would have had jobs and money and would never have been enticed by recruiters. He recounted how his brother borrowed 680,000 rupees to pay a Nepali “agent” who he found on TikTok and who ran a kiosk in Kathmandu, at the intersection of Buddhi Sagar Marg and Thirbam Sadak, across the street from the Russian embassy. He recalled how the agent got his brother a Russian tourist visa overnight and quickly put him on a flight to Moscow via Dubai, on the promise of earning 290,000 rupees a month once he signed a contract to fight for Russia. He remembered the ad mentioning a mandatory four months of military training. He noted that his brother corresponded from Russia, telling him there were promises of Russian citizenship for he and his wife and kids after his tour in Ukraine was complete. Aadi also recalled his brother sending 300,000 rupees back to his wife and her parents after just two months, and of how he went to the same agent the very next day, October 7th.

Aadi also explained to Ram something he’d dared not mention while still on the battlefield. His brother had been killed by artillery on November 2nd, just nine days before his 25th birthday and immediately after Aadi arrived in Ukraine. Aadi told Ram of his sister-in-law and nephew and two nieces, who he spent the last months trying not to think about. Aadi cursed Russian command and noted what Ram knew well: that no one got four months of training, despite none of them ever having so much as held a gun. Two days in Moscow, three weeks in Rostov Oblast, and then to the front lines.

It was WWI, everyone agreed, but with cell phones. All the Nepalis, like the Tajiks and Afghans, so long into this war and so deep into the frozen, snow-covered wheat fields of eastern Ukraine, spent their time digging trenches. It was backbreaking but it was also the only thing anyone felt could keep them alive; so, even in the ice, the trenches got dug. In fact, anywhere there were trees providing the least bit of cover they were digging in, holding some kind of line. But it was desperately lonely work. The first thing they learned was not to gather together in groups larger than two unless they wished to help a drone operator in Donetsk justify expending a missile. Aadi recalled never actually seeing the enemy, not for sure. Occasionally they received mortar and artillery fire. Seldom did they see anything to shoot back at, which was a good thing as they had ammunition only for firing warning shots and not engaging in a real firefight.

Aadi admitted he hadn’t thought much about war or politics before or since enlisting. He certainly hadn't come to kill Ukrainians. And he never even heard about NATO before arriving in Ukraine. Aadi laughed as he told Ram about mishearing "nato" as "nata" and thinking for a whole two weeks that this war was being fought over nuts. He, like everyone else he knew, came for the money. He had also told himself this might be his ticket to Europe. He'd always dreamed about Italy, Spain, and Portugal. He imagined living near the water. He would buy a fishing rod, then a gaff and harpoon and maybe a net; eventually a little boat with some oars and a little sail. He would name the boat Hemingway and spend his days learning to catch swordfish and sardines. When he got good at it he would teach a little boy to fish. Aadi explained to Ram that his first trip to the theatre was to see the 1958 Spencer Tracy film, The Old Man and the Sea. He recalled being mesmerised just by the opening credits, even. He remembered reading that the film was translated into 41 languages and how he wanted to see each version. Aadi laughed and told Ram that he remembered sitting up at night trying to think of all the languages he could, that only thirteen came to mind, and how he'd wondered what the others were and that he'd always intended to learn the names of all the languages. Aadi asked Ram how many languages there were and how many he could name.

As they started a list, they heard an approaching truck rumbling down the road toward them. This didn't seem like their rescue. They couldn't have felt more relief as it passed. But as soon as that feeling of lightness struck, the truck stopped, almost as if their relief was so great that it was felt by those in the truck. Four men immediately hopped out of the back of the truck.

Even if they believed they could dash through the trees and back across the river, both men were already frozen, exhausted, and starving and had already spent all the money they could possibly get a hold of and more trying to escape.

Both men immediately threw up their arms. As the Russians shouted something stern in their direction, Aadi offered Ram, "Maybe there will be food and hot tea."