Kettles, Cows, and Curious Customs: The Unexpected Adventures of Ukrainian Refugees in Britain

When the first Ukrainian families arrived in the United Kingdom under the Homes for Ukraine scheme, few imagined that their greatest culture shock would involve kettles, queueing, and conversations about the weather. Fleeing war with resilience and dignity, many Ukrainians found themselves thrust into the wonderfully eccentric world of British domestic life—and the results have been alternately heartwarming, hilarious, and deeply human.

Of Kettles and Cabbage

In one suburban home in Surrey, 23-year-old Kateryna was initially baffled by her host’s obsessive relationship with her electric kettle. “She boiled it every five minutes,” Kateryna later recalled. “I thought maybe it was a hobby.” For Ukrainians more accustomed to stovetop brewing, Britain’s reverence for the kettle as the holy grail of household appliances came as a revelation. The moment Kateryna was offered her third cup of tea before 10 am, she realised she was no longer in Kyiv.

Some culture clashes were culinary. In Yorkshire, 62-year-old Halyna horrified her host family by fermenting cabbage on the windowsill—an olfactory adventure that led to an awkward but earnest discussion about ventilation. Meanwhile, Bohdan, a young father from Odesa, mistakenly assumed that “toad in the hole” was an amphibian delicacy, prompting a tense evening until the sausages emerged safely from their battery prison.

The Politeness Olympics

If Britain were to compete in the Olympics for polite understatement, it would sweep the medals every time. Ukrainians, generally more direct in conversation, sometimes struggled to decode what their hosts actually meant. “When they said, ‘That’s quite interesting,’ I thought they were amazed,” said Mykhailo, who spent his first week enthusiastically explaining Soviet tractor designs. “Later I learned it meant they thought I was insane.”

Yet it worked both ways. Hosts were often astounded by Ukrainian forthrightness. One Glaswegian host family recalled being asked within ten minutes of arrival whether they had any military-grade generators. “I said, ‘No, but we’ve got an Aga and a Jack Russell,’” the host shrugged.

Of Cows and Countryside

Perhaps the most surreal experience for urban Ukrainian families was rural Britain. In Norfolk, 11-year-old Danylo was convinced the local dairy cows were planning an uprising. “They stare at you. Every day. Same cows.” His mother wasn’t much more reassured by the presence of a horse in the neighbouring garden, which she mistook for a rural emergency food supply. “In Ukraine, this would be a warning sign. In Britain, it’s called ‘equestrian leisure.’”

The Warmth Beneath the Tweed

Yet beneath the tweed, tea and curious traditions, Ukrainian guests often discovered a genuine warmth and quiet generosity among their hosts. There were English grammar lessons conducted over shepherd’s pie, visits to the local Rotary Club, and school plays featuring Ukrainian children bravely reciting Shakespeare in newly learned English. There were tearful hugs, shared meals, and the slow building of friendships that crossed all boundaries of culture and history.

Some families grew so close that saying goodbye became as emotionally complex as arriving had been. “I didn’t expect to love them like my own,” admitted Margaret from Kent, whose Ukrainian guests returned home after 18 months. “But now I have a family in Lviv.”

A Meeting of Worlds

The experiment of welcoming strangers into spare bedrooms and back gardens has not always been easy. There have been mismatches, misunderstandings, and the occasional crisis involving marmite or misunderstandings about hedgehogs. But in the oddities of shared daily life—school runs, roast dinners, trips to Tesco, awkward dances at village fêtes—Britain and Ukraine found echoes of each other’s humanity.

War may have forced the meeting. But kindness, humour, and the sheer eccentricity of life kept it going.