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In issue No. 42 (December 14, 2015), we began publishing the diaries of the famous journalist Masha Slonim, who on December 1 went into exile for the second time*.

Today is her second story about how her new life is shaping up.

Less than a month later, I learned how to find my home without a navigator! Don't laugh, it wasn't easy - there are a lot of narrow winding back roads running in all directions. Having traveled around the area, I realized that all roads eventually lead to the house. Sometimes, however, in a roundabout way. I like it too, admiring the little villages on the green slopes.

Less than a month later, I registered myself at the clinic, and the dogs at the veterinary clinic. I was assigned to the local clinic without any problems. True, while filling out the questionnaire, I was stumped by the question of what race I consider myself to be. The choice is not as easy as it might seem.

"White" has subgroups - British, Irish, other white race.

"Mixed" - white and black Caribbean, white and black African, white and Asian, other mixed.

"Asian and Asian-British": India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, other Asian origins.

"Black or Black British": Africa, Caribbean, other. At the end of the questionnaire, however, it is said that this is a voluntary matter, you do not want to admit your racial affiliation, and you don’t have to.

The dogs were easy. Recorded as mestizos, without understanding their complex pedigree. True, to the veterinarian recommended to me by a neighbor, an appointment for six months in advance! Signed up for someone else.

By the way, about the neighbors. On Christmas Eve, I received a visit from a couple who introduced themselves as Good Samaritans. Pullmans: Brian is a church warden and a member of the parish council of local government, Pearl is the captain of our church bell ringers. Along with the obligatory Christmas card, the Pullmans gave me a jar of their own honey. They do not have their own apiary, but it turns out that in the village there is a collective apiary where they keep a beehive. We drank tea and talked. The most amazing thing is that Brian was born and raised in the house where I now live. He told me how everything was arranged for them when his family lived here, boasted of the stone wall that he built himself, and wished me a happy life in my new and in his old house. And Pearl invited me to a ringing rehearsal. Think I might do it?

Less than 25 years later, I reconnected with old friends, the Archer family. The Archers is the name of a BBC radio series. The series has just celebrated its 65th anniversary, I listened to it regularly all the years that I lived in England. And not only me. This is the most popular radio series, listened to by millions on the radio and the Internet. 15 minutes a day, and on the weekend a consolidated release - all episodes in a week. In the center of the plot is a family of farmers with their problems, sorrows and joys. Everything is very relevant and topical, often, depending on what happened in England or in the world, episodes are recorded and changed right on the day of airing. And the events are not only related to farming, everything is there - both politics and social problems. Stability, in a word. And the jingles are the same as they were 65 years ago.

She overcame her fear of TV, which developed in recent years in Russia, and did not regret it. By the way, many presenters of news and political programs are the same as they were 25 years ago. Many, of course, new ones, and from those racial groups and subgroups that I listed above. And this is also the BBC. And this is also Ai-ti-vi. And this is also England. And this is great! * Read more: NT No. 40 of November 30, 2015.