Walking around a small outdoor street market in a pretty Kyiv courtyard, one could be forgiven for forgetting for a brief moment that Ukraine is in the midst of a brutal war that not long ago saw some of its bloodiest fighting just a few miles from the capital.
A DJ is playing techno tunes, so beloved in a city that has been proudly calling itself the new Berlin, as locals sell vintage clothes.
But scratch below the surface and it quickly becomes clear that the far-reaching consequences of war still dominate virtually every aspect of life in Kyiv.
“We donate all the money we make to the armed forces. We are here for them,” said Yana Koval behind a clothes stall. Koval was also selling anti-war souvenirs and handmade bracelets that ridiculed Russia’s president, Vladimir Putin. “We are trying to go on with our lives. But the pain is always there,” she said.
Almost four months after Moscow invaded Ukraine, signs of normality have begun to return to Kyiv. Anti-tank roadblocks have been moved aside, while families stroll around the city’s many parks. Terraces have started filling up, with well-dressed locals drinking Aperol spritz.
The Ukrainian city has not been shelled for two weeks as Russia was forced to dramatically adjust its military goals. Most people now ignore the daily air raid sirens when they go off.
The city still has a daily 11pm curfew, and on a recent Sunday afternoon, lines emerged outside a nightclub, which now hosts day parties.
“Don’t be fooled by all this, because we are obviously still at war,” stressed Anna Levchuk, a manager at the Kometa pizza restaurant. “Everyone still talks about the war. Everyone is somehow affected or involved.”
Kometa, like many other restaurants, closed when the war started, quickly switching its focus to cooking for the army and local hospitals. “Our restaurant is filling up again, although it is still way emptier than usual,” Levchuk said.
“People are going on dates again and celebrating birthdays,” she said, adding that she completely understood that people needed a way to let off steam.
At the entrance of the restaurant, visitors are greeted with a stack of postcards proclaiming: “Russians, fuck off.” Almost every restaurant or bar in Kyiv flies the Ukrainian flag or hangs posters with support for the country’s armed forces. Anti-war and anti-Putin art can be seen on virtually every street corner.
Levchuk also said they have stopped using the Russian language and only address their customers in Ukrainian.
Just across the street, Valeriy Shevchenko, the manager of a small gallery, says he too is seeing his art space slowly coming back to life.
“Kyiv was a ghost town, but the gallery is finally filling up again,” he said. “We are simply tired of being scared. But, of course, no one is forgetting about the war.”
In the heat that descended on the capital over the last two weeks, some locals have chosen to hit the city’s beaches along the Dnieper River. But danger is never far away. Ukrainian officials have warned the country’s citizens of the risk of unexploded munitions in lakes and rivers. Under martial law, people are also banned from taking their own vessels out on the water.
Earlier this week, a man swimming off the beach in Odesa was killed in front of his family after stepping on a naval mine left by the Ukrainian forces to deter Russians from storming the port city.
And every day in Kyiv sees enormous contrasts between the appearance of normality and the reality of the ongoing war.
Just a few steps away from the cafes and restaurants, hundreds of Ukrainians gathered at the golden-domed St Michael’s monastery for the funeral of the activist Roman Ratushnyi, who was recently killed fighting near Kharkiv.
Ratushnyi was one of the student protesters beaten by police on the first night of the pro-western Maidan revolution in 2013. The pro-Russian president Viktor Yanukovych’s decision to crush the student demonstrations soon triggered bigger protests and eventually led to Yanukovych fleeing Kyiv for Moscow.
Ratushnyi had since become a popular activist and decided to join the Ukrainian armed forces at the start of the war.
“All our brightest, bravest guys are dying. The war’s toll on society is immense,” said activist Ivana Sanina, 23, barely holding back tears.
His death has come to symbolise the war’s heavy toll on its promising new generation. “He was the voice of the new, independent Ukraine. He had such a big future ahead of him,” she added.
Up to 200 Ukrainians are believed to be dying every day on the battlefield as the fighting turns into a prolonged war of attrition, with no immediate end in sight.
“I was at the funeral of another friend when I heard about Roman,” said the photographer Valya Polishchuk. “These days I am going from funeral to funeral.”
Polishchuk said she was glad to see Kyiv coming back to life, but called on others not to become complacent. “We can never forget what is going on,” she said, before kneeling as the car passed carrying Ratushny’s body.
As the sun was setting on Thursday, a group of men and women were playing cycle polo at the Kyiv velodrome.
For months the arena, which dates from 1913 and is one of the oldest sports facilities in Kyiv, was closed, and Artur Kulak and his teammates were not able to practise their beloved sport, a game similar to traditional polo, but using bicycles instead of horses.
“It is nice to come and just forget about the war. Do the thing you love most,” said Kulak, catching his breath on the sidelines.
His team now struggled to find enough people to play after some of Kulak’s friends went to volunteer at the front.
Playing the sport brought Kulak back to the days before the war, he said, although he quickly admitted that the feeling never lasted long. “After practice, I feel so happy, my mind is completely reset. And then the sirens come on, and boom, just like that, you are back in reality.”
