The war in Ukraine has reshaped the lives and language environments of millions of Ukrainians, including those now living in Lithuania, who must adapt both socially and linguistically. The Geolinguistics Centre at the Lithuanian Language Institute conducted a pilot study to explore how the linguistic environment of displaced people is created.
To explore how war, uncertainty, and the surrounding society influence the choice of language spoken by Ukrainians in Lithuania – in families, with children, and with Lithuanians – researcher Jogilė Teresa Ramonaitė spoke with Ukrainian war refugees living in small towns across the country.
“The Ukrainians I spoke to are not building a future here; they live waiting for the war to end. Many expected to stay in Lithuania for two weeks or a few months, but several years have already passed. If they had planned to stay so long from the beginning, their language proficiency would be different. When someone expects to stay only three weeks, learning the language becomes a problem,” the researcher told LRT.lt in an interview.
“Lithuanians’ behaviour seems to confirm that learning the language isn't necessary. And that does not encourage learning,” says Dr. Ramonaitė.
Could you tell us about your research – where you conducted it, with whom, and when?
I collected the data in May 2024. The aim was not just to talk to immigrants, but specifically to war refugees.
I was especially interested in small towns. For instance, in Vilnius, the situation is quite clear – you can easily speak Russian there without much difficulty. Lithuanians often don’t even pay attention to where a Russian-speaking person originally comes from.
I hypothesised that the situation in smaller towns would be different – the environment has a stronger influence there, so people might make more effort to speak Lithuanian. So, I chose two small towns in western Lithuania. One town has about 20,000 residents, the other around 2,000.
Unfortunately, it turned out that people in such environments still acquire very little Lithuanian. As someone who specializes in second language acquisition, I found this quite disappointing.
How many interviews did you conduct?
Seven interviews with eight participants. Most were women who came with children; some of their husbands stayed in Ukraine or work in other countries.
What topics did you cover in the interviews?
I was interested in two things: attitudes towards Lithuanians and the Lithuanian language, as well as general perceptions and language policies within families – what language is spoken at home, with children, and among family members.
However, most of the interviews were dominated by the participants’ own stories – how they left, what they experienced, and the difficulties they faced. The memories were very emotional and painful, even though two years had passed since those events. I believe their stories would sound the same even after three years.
What conclusions did you draw from these conversations?
The main thing that stood out was the immense gratitude. All participants spoke very positively and gratefully about Lithuania and Lithuanians. [...]
Overall, it seems people genuinely want to work and earn money. Of course, some of the money they earn is sent back to Ukraine. One woman said, “I work one job to support my family, a second to help relatives in Ukraine, and a third to support the Ukrainian army.” So, they really work very hard.
In a way, in small Lithuanian towns where labour shortages may exist, this is a significant boost.
How close are the ties between the arriving Ukrainians and local residents?
To be honest, close relationships with Lithuanians are few. Some have befriended a Lithuanian family, but that’s more the exception. Many say, “It’s hard for us with Lithuanians. Maybe they have a more Nordic character and don’t immediately form close relationships.” This, of course, doesn’t encourage integration, especially language learning.
Because of this, they more often interact with Lithuanians who speak Russian and hardly communicate with others. Many even get the impression that all Lithuanians speak Russian, though some notice differences.
Thus, they only communicate with those who understand them. And that’s logical – how else could it be?
How often do Ukrainian war refugees use Lithuanian or English?
There are almost no conversations in English or Lithuanian. Their English is weak; some have basic knowledge, but not enough to form friendships. Their vocabulary is limited, suitable only for work. The same applies to Lithuanian.
When I asked about their future plans – whether they would stay in Lithuania or leave – almost all gave the same answer. This is probably the most important and at the same time saddest observation. Even two years after the war started, people are still “in limbo”.
Is this uncertainty more connected to the ongoing war in Ukraine or the difficulty of building a life in Lithuania?
It’s related to the war. When talking about the future, almost everyone, except for one elderly couple who have decided to stay in Lithuania, says they will leave as soon as the war ends.
Some women have already travelled back to Ukraine to visit their elderly parents. One said that after returning from the trip, her teenage daughter said, “We have come home. Home is Lithuania.” She realised the children are already thinking about their future here. But the adults are not. The youngest interviewee was 38, the others were older. So, these are working-age people, but psychologically, they are still on the move.
This also greatly hinders language learning. It’s unclear whether it’s worth learning at all. They say, “The war is ongoing; we don’t know if we will return.” Some hope it will end in a week, others in a month. And all this time, they live in a mode of “What if? What if it’s soon?” [...]
They live waiting for the war to end. Many hoped to stay in Lithuania for two weeks or a few months, but two years have already passed. If they had planned to stay for two years from the start, their language skills would be different.
A big obstacle is also the Lithuanians themselves: wanting to be friendly and hospitable, they simply switch to another language. This doesn’t help at all. It’s clear that this is not easy. You wouldn’t start talking to someone very slowly with simple phrases just to communicate. This is somewhat natural. But switching languages doesn’t help, especially for someone wanting to start speaking Lithuanian.
A few of my interviewees had attended courses, but even among those who made the effort, progress was often limited.
Still, I believe the biggest demotivator is the belief that Lithuanian language is very difficult and almost impossible to learn. That certainly doesn’t add motivation, although it’s not entirely true.
Yes, Lithuanian is archaic and has rich morphology and many grammatical forms – no one denies that. But for speakers of Slavic languages, especially Ukrainians, this shouldn’t be a barrier, as the system is similar in many ways.
I can confirm this with my previous research: about ten years ago, I conducted a survey of people speaking various languages, including Ukrainians.
I heard some very interesting statements, for example, “The structure is the same, you just need to learn different words.”
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