“From camouflage nets to embroidered shirts: Ukraine’s war finds allies in Charlottetown”
- Judith Mendiolea Lelo de Larrea
- May 21, 2025
- 5 min read
(Story originally published by The Guardian on May 17, 2025)
Tetyana Rymska remembers the couch.
Its softness. The way it seemed to mock her as sirens howled and missiles lit up the sky back home. The 16-year-old sat on the floor beside it for hours, unable to move.
“For about the first six to nine hours, I simply could not stop crying,” she said. “I simply could not even force myself to sit on the couch. The couch felt too good and luxurious. You do not deserve a couch when you know your home is going to be destroyed.”
It was Feb. 24, 2022, the day Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
Rymska’s hometown is near Kremenchuk, a name that would later make international headlines when Russian missiles struck a shopping mall there — a mall she used to visit.
“There’s nothing there. It’s empty now because there’s only dust.”
When the war started, Rymska was attending high school in the Philippines. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to attend university in Ukraine, she moved to an agricultural province on the Atlantic coast of North America: Prince Edward Island.
But she didn’t settle for long.
Camouflage nets and a birthday in Poland
Two years later, she marked her 18 birthday not with cake or candles, but with camouflage netting.
Rymska had returned to Europe during her university breaks in 2023 and 2024, taking time off from UPEI’s business program.
First in Poland, and later in Ukraine, she spent her days at a volunteer centre, learning how to weave nets to conceal Ukrainian soldiers from enemy drones.
“Volunteering is the essence of Ukrainian resistance,” she said. “Without it, I feel absolutely miserable.”
She spoke of ordinary people — office workers, teachers, truck drivers — who, after losing their homes, took up the work of survival.
“They found themselves abroad and realized they cannot just sit there. They had to do something for Ukraine.”
Now in Charlottetown, she channels that same drive into charity markets. Selling Ukrainian-made art, crafts and food, Rymska raises funds for humanitarian aid back home.
“Usually our estimate is about $100 to $200 per bazaar. On the Christmas crafts, we actually raised $600, which was an unbeatable goal,” she said. Each dollar supports humanitarian aid and supplies for those affected by the war.
A war announced at 4 a.m.
Across Charlottetown, another Ukrainian woman was also learning how to fight from afar.
At 4 a.m., Elina Lialiuk was nursing her newborn daughter when the first messages came in. Explosions. Helicopters flying between apartment blocks.
Her family was still in Ukraine.
“Please don't stay in that house because it's really dangerous,” she asked her parents after days had passed. Eventually, her mother and sister left for Poland, but her father stayed behind to do volunteer work.
One night, Lialiuk saw reports of a missile headed toward their neighbourhood.
“We told him to leave the building now,” she said. “Minutes later, a missile hit. Everything fell down. But the house was not destroyed, just the lower floors — their windows were broken. He was safe.”
Lialiuk had moved to Canada in 2019, as her family predicted the situation would worsen, believing they were among the few Ukrainians on P.E.I.
By 2023, she had founded the P.E.I. branch of the Ukrainian Canadian Congress, driven by the need to organize, advocate and preserve her community’s culture in the face of erasure.
“They are not just killing us; they are trying to erase our identity, our cultural memory, rewrite our history. It’s a genocidal war,” she said.
The branch’s work ranges from organizing cultural events — with a soon-to-be participation at the DiverseCity Festival P.E.I. — to advocating for Ukrainian newcomers fleeing the war. Their “Stand with Ukraine” campaign has been active since before the full-scale invasion, warning Islanders about a “rising threat.”
“History repeats if ignored,” Lialiuk said, referring to Holodomor — the Soviet-engineered famine that starved millions of Ukrainians in the 1930s. In 2023, P.E.I. formally recognized Holodomor as an act of genocide.
Vyshyvanka Day: Fighting with needle and thread
On May 18, Lialiuk and Rymska are working together to bring Vyshyvanka Day to life in Charlottetown — a vibrant public showing of Ukrainian culture, resilience and pride.
Vyshyvanka means “embroidered shirt” in Ukrainian. Traditionally, each one tells a story: patterns and colours unique to each region, symbolizing love, loss and strength.
But beneath the linen threads lies a deeper message.
“Wearing a vyshyvanka is not just about tradition. It’s about dignity, resilience and showing the world we are still here,” Lialiuk said.
For Ukrainians in occupied territories, wearing one can be life-threatening.
“We wear it for them,” she added.
The event will begin with a flag-raising ceremony at Charlottetown City Hall, followed by a march led by a massive Ukrainian flag. Mayor Philip Brown will join them — as he has for most Ukrainian community events.
For Islanders, it’s a chance to walk in solidarity. Rymska is also inviting people to share a photo on social media wearing a vyshyvanka — or a similar embroidered garment — for a chance to win a sylyanka, a traditional beaded necklace handmade by her.
“Ukrainians are not just fighting for Ukraine, they're fighting for human rights, for democracy, for freedom,” said Lialiuk. “These humane things, right, notions which are important to everybody, and I don't know who can support this work, who can support this genocide?”
“Ukrainian culture is beautiful, our food is delicious, but more importantly, participating is your way of showing support. That’s your contribution to our victory,” she said.
Both women explained that resistance isn’t always waged on the front lines.
This war is fought in trenches and cities — but also in memories, songs and stitches.
In Charlottetown, Rymska and Lialiuk carry that fight forward, inviting Islanders to stand with them — not with weapons, but with their hands, their voices, their culture.
A net, a shirt, a market stall — each woven with the same message: “Ukraine will not be erased.”
Comments