"I am here, and I choose to stand with you": how to volunteer in Ukraine as a foreigner
What are the options for people who would like to volunteer or contribute more to the efforts in Ukraine? This is my story — I hope it will help others to find meaningful ways to support Ukraine.
I first visited Ukraine and Lviv ten years ago, when I had maybe ten days left at the end of a rail holiday across Europe. Before 2022, I returned twice, visiting Lviv, Odesa, and Uzhhorod. There were a few people who I remained in contact with after the full-scale invasion — some were seeking refuge in Berlin or Vienna, while others were doing the same in Kyiv and Lviv. It was through these connections and seeing what they were doing, in simple acts of resistance, doing something for their fellow citizens, the war effort, even in the smallest ways, that I got motivation to set up an online non-profit business, selling postcards and stickers from Ukraine. My best friend in Ukraine is a printer in Lviv and had supplied me with the stock after my last visit in March 2024. That trip was partly to catch up with my friend and partly to try and see what else I could do.
In helping Ukraine, any effort counts
I was looking for activities that required no training or language skills. No forms to fill out, no prior experience required, just willing hands and a few hours of time. Amidst the turmoil and struggle of the outside world, quiet acts of strength and resilience take place daily inside workshops and kitchens. And anyone, for as long as they like, an hour or a full day, can be part of it, contributing in a meaningful way. In a city where history and war now intertwine, where medieval spires cast long shadows over sandbagged monuments, there are doors you can walk through and start helping within minutes. In one of these buildings, the volunteers weave strips of fabric into vast camouflage nets, helping to hide and protect front-line positions from drones and artillery. In another, the air is thick with steam from bubbling pots and thick with the scent of borscht as people of all ages chop, stir, and pack meals bound for soldiers and displaced families.
Camouflage Netting Workshops
Photo: Dominic Sweeting
I had an address supplied by my friend and a translation saved on my phone, "I have come to see you weave nets." I was assuming I would be walking into a room full of grandmothers, but it was quite the opposite. People of all ages and backgrounds, from students to pensioners, locals and foreigners alike, work side-by-side.
In a large, high-ceilinged room, the walls were lined with bookcases, giving away the original and intended use of the building as a library. However, the atmosphere of a library as a place of quiet study and dedication remained in the room. At the center, instead of more books, there was a large wooden frame, maybe 6 feet high and 20 feet long. Over this was the basic crisscross design of the netting. On both sides there were people, some were alone, in quiet concentration, others were quietly chatting in hushed tones as they worked. I watched as fingers busily tied knots in shredded ribbons of pastel-colored material, forming the individual metelyks or butterflies that swarm together over the nets, giving them the protective camouflage effect.
As I entered, I was met by Orysia, a student of the Lviv National Academy of the Arts. After a quick demonstration on how to weave the nets, I began working and was immediately struck by how the simple, repetitive work had an almost meditative effect. The minutes flew past, and before I knew it, I had completed my little section. The feeling of achievement I felt seemed exaggerated, but it makes sense now. Like the butterflies, we are all beautiful and fragile, but if we stick together — we can protect each other and be strong.
Lviv Volunteer Kitchen
The energy of the kitchen was unbelievable, volunteers peeling potatoes, chopping cabbage, it was bustling and friendly, filled with laughter despite the purpose. It was clear to me, after having worked in kitchens before, that the camaraderie, sense of humor, and dedication to the task was present in abundance. But here it was elevated and enhanced, we weren't just serving paying customers… we were paying the customers that serve us!
The significance of food, not just for nutrition, but morale, care, and connection cannot be understated. This is reinforced in the packaging of meals into individually sealed portions. The knowledge that this is not just a meal for our defenders, it is a reminder of home, it is something to look forward to, it is energy, it is motivation… it is hope.
Again, the diversity of the volunteers was obvious. There was the stereotypical elderly grandmother, with the handed down recipes and traditional ways of doing things. There was also the British expatriate, who had moved to Ukraine in 2014. He said, 'Nobody told me there would be a revolution and two invasions!' But yet here he was, doing whatever he could, whenever he could.
Why These Places Matter
Beyond the practical impact, the psychological and social importance is reflective. What you contribute helps others, but it also helps you in so many ways. What I personally took away from the experiences was a feeling of purpose and satisfaction. These places give foreigners and resident civilians a way to contribute. These places are more than volunteer hubs, they are testaments to the endurance of hromada or community, to the power of ordinary individuals stepping up together in extraordinary times. They confirmed my belief that everything we do is important; no matter how small our contribution is, it has the potential to make a huge difference. We are all connected, and we are all part of something bigger.
How to Get Involved
If you've ever thought about volunteering but hesitated, unsure whether you have the skills or capabilities, let this be your reassurance. In Lviv's volunteer centers, no one will ask about your suitability or expect a long-term commitment. You don't need to speak Ukrainian. You don't need to know how to cook or weave. You just need to show up. A quick online search will produce various opportunities, not just the ones I have mentioned.
At the camouflage netting workshops, someone will hand you a strip of fabric, show you how to tie it, and before long, you'll find yourself slipping into the rhythm alongside others. At the volunteer kitchen, you'll be given a cutting board, a peeler, maybe a ladle. Whether you stay for an hour or the entire day, your time matters. And when you leave, there is no expectation that you return, although I did, and many others do the same, drawn back by the quiet camaraderie and the knowledge that small efforts, multiplied, make a difference.
More Than Just Helping
To volunteer in Ukraine is not just to help, it is to witness, to stand in quiet solidarity with people who refuse to be broken. It is to sit beside a grandmother patiently knotting strips of fabric, knowing she has sent grandsons to war. It is to share a smile with a teenager peeling potatoes, knowing she has fled from a city now scarred by missiles. It is to take part in something larger than yourself, a collective refusal to surrender to despair.
And in the end, perhaps that is the real power of volunteering. Not just the meals prepared, or the nets woven, but the act of showing up, of saying, "I am here, and I choose to stand with you."
