"Kazakh" Russians

For Russians, I am Tatar. Green eyes, white skin, Asian cheekbones. True, the Ukrainian surname is confusing. For the locals, I am “Russian”: because I am the owner of a clear Slavic phenotype. Born and raised in Kazakhstan. There are many of us, and for you, Russians, we are all “Kazakhs”.

I studied in Tomsk, and they often asked me in all seriousness whether there were candies and electricity in Kazakhstan, and they even believed me when, without blinking an eye, I reported that I would go home in the first caravan. But to the surprise of our northern neighbors, we, Kazakh Russians, have an excellent command of the great and powerful. At one time, Kazakhstan had the strongest school of Russian linguistics and literary criticism - after all, the most educated people, including teachers, were exiled here for a century. Then, in the sixties, doctors, builders, engineers came here from all over the Union to develop virgin lands.

So I consider the compliment “you speak Russian well” to be somewhat dubious. We are not just good, we speak well and we know it. The teaching of Russian gradually began to decline from the beginning of the 2000s, when the “Russians” began to leave. Among them, teachers of Russian language and literature - there was less and less work to do: the hours of these subjects were uncontrollably reduced. However, the generations of those who are now 25-30 and older, and not only the Slavs, but also the Kazakhs themselves, speak quite well.

Why did you leave, you ask? Almost 2 million people have left Kazakhstan in twenty years since the nineties. There were repatriates - Germans and Jews - and "Russians" were leaving for Russia. Nobody drove, that's the truth. It just suddenly became somehow uncomfortable - some were asked to leave work, some simply survived, some, seeing how their moods were changing, hurried to leave themselves. Despite the fact that there are 23 percent “Russians” in the country, there are almost none of them in the civil service. In just a few years, they were forced out of most positions in the civil service (later those who did not leave went into business, and many were very successful).

And yet, many people in Russia had a hard time. We are used to living differently, these are two different countries. Some were not accepted, and especially in rural areas they were hated for their “riches” - brought TVs, refrigerators, good furniture.

And by our nature, we are still not Russians, we are different, closer to the Kazakhs, indeed. In the Eastern way, they are a little cunning, have their own minds, do not tolerate familiarity, are hospitable and very hard-working, loving comfort and financial well-being - so that the house is a “full cup”. Moreover, note that Kazakhstanis are not refugees in Russia, not “guest workers” - many come with money earned in Kazakhstan, many have in-demand specialties, languages, and qualifications. I don’t know many examples of which Kazakhstanis would live poorly, and it doesn’t matter if they live in the USA, Canada, Russia, Israel or Australia. Because they are plowmen.

And we drink much less, forgive me for being frank. We can, but we know when to stop - time for business, time for fun. You won’t see people with beer on the street here, nor will you see drunken parents and friends catching up on a bench while children play around.

But I didn’t take root in Russia. Although I thought that I would leave back in 1999, when I entered Tomsk State University to study. Many girls married Russians there, but there were also those who, on a mental level, did not fit into local realities—like me. We are between two worlds, and many of us are children of mixed marriages. And here, on the one hand, the proliferating nationalists in your homeland are telling you that you don’t know the Kazakh language (that’s how they spoke Russian in the family!), and on the other hand, your appearance is no longer quite Slavic. And in Russia it’s somehow impossible to pass yourself off as one of your own.

On the other hand, when you were born here and don’t know another homeland, when your ancestors built, treated, taught, and you suddenly began to be called “non-indigenous” as opposed to “indigenous”, or even descendants of “Russian colonists” - the majority simply became uncomfortable . It seems to me that for now there are not those who remain who love their homeland very much, but those who do not flee, even if they are “persecuted.” I've learned to fight back, put my hands on my hips and "open my mouth" - I'm a native just like you. I don’t like that I speak Russian, we’ll speak English.

By the way, you ask, do I know Kazakh? I once knew, but now I don’t. We lost the desire to speak. I don’t like to “have to,” especially if no one around me is particularly eager to support my attempts to communicate. I learned English myself - when I really needed it for work and for internships abroad. I still don’t understand what benefits I will get from the Kazakh language. Everyone around me understands Russian, in commercial structures no one requires me to speak the language when applying for a job, and I myself won’t go to government ones for any price. To be fair, I note that I don’t know Ukrainian at all. And somehow I live.

My Kazakh friends know about my moods, many themselves tell me - your place is not here, but somewhere in America: brave, ambitious, not as it should be in Asia. Someone also wants to leave - away from the musty political situation. We are all simple people - we want peace and happiness for our children.

It’s a matter of time before I leave. I can say that it’s definitely not to Russia. We, “Kazakh Russians,” are comfortable in a multicultural society. And in general, I’m fine here so far. This is my land. My grandparents are buried here, who gave their hearts, professionalism and life to the Kazakh steppe.