Conversation with a defector | Colta.ru

Kolta continues the“In Separation” project with a conversation with a man who has made a final decision for himself: to stop thinking about a possible return to the country, and to stubbornly build his life where he found himself – in Spain.

Let us recall that the “In Separation” project is dedicated to the new identities that have emerged or are just emerging among people since the start of the war – in Russia and beyond.

The editors still really need your support:

on Friendly
or on Patreon (anywhere in the world).

***

— When you left Russia, did you immediately want to move there permanently, and not just wait it out?

When my wife and I decided to move to Spain, we weren’t sure we’d have enough money to live there. We had savings – I figured they’d be enough for a year of rent and basic groceries. But I didn’t know what would happen after that year. So moving was a step into the abyss. It was scary.

At that moment I didn’t have a job. As soon as the war started, I quit. I was working at the Central Bank at that time – formally in the public relations department, but in reality as an author of the website “Ekons”, a hardcore economic publication. Before the war, I had no ethical dilemmas. But after February 24, it became clear to me that my moral principles would no longer allow me to be an employee of the Bank of Russia.

The entire economic discourse had already begun to boil down to a discussion of the war, researchers began to publish the first calculations with estimates of its economic consequences, but I could not write that such and such economists had estimated the damage from the war. Because if you work at the Bank of Russia, you simply cannot write like that. This upset me greatly - and it was clear that I had no further way forward with the Bank of Russia.

So I quit in the first days of the war. And I moved to Spain completely without work. In the hope that I would write a post on Facebook ( recognized as an extremist organization and banned in Russia ), that I would find some kind of income and we would have enough money for a year. What would happen next, I did not know.

— How did you choose Spain? I myself am stopped before moving to a European country by this randomness of choice. I cannot accept the fact that I have to choose some country almost at random — and tell it: now we will build a life together.

My wife and I had no other options. The thing is, she is a Russified Spaniard. In the late 1930s, when there was a civil war in Spain, several thousand children were taken from there to the Soviet Union. They stayed in the country, grew up there, and many decided to start building their lives and identities as Soviet citizens.

— This forced choice probably helps you come to terms with the fact that you now have a new country, stop being in denial and start living?

— Probably, yes, it helps. Although before moving I had only been to Spain twice on holiday, as a tourist. I had only been to Barcelona, ​​where we now live, once — and I really didn’t like it.

I look back at 2022 and, frankly, I don’t even understand how I decided to convince my wife that we needed to go. She didn’t want to. She wanted to stay in Russia, she loves her parents very much, they are elderly. She cried a lot, and I persuaded her to leave, because even then Russia was becoming unsafe.

— And it turns out that you took your wife, an ethnic Spanish woman, by force from Russia to Barcelona, ​​which you yourself did not like at all.

I had thoughts that if things got really bad, I could go back. But at that moment it was simply not entirely clear how big the risk of going to jail for fakes would be. Now this thought — “if anything happens, we’ll go back” — sounds wild to me.

— And when did you start consciously integrating into the country and learning the language?

I started learning Spanish a few years ago, got through the basics and then gave up.
And the first time after moving was very scary. Scared to go to the store, scared to go to a cafe and order something there. A very stupid fear.

That's why I immediately sat down with the textbooks - at least to remember the numerals. In the summer of 2022, since I had no job and was getting by by writing some texts, I sat and did the grammar exercises from the textbook.

And my wife's grandfather was just such a Spanish child who married a Soviet woman. So my wife is a quarter Spanish, she has Spanish documents. And when the war started, we didn't have to choose which direction to go: Spain was the only option for us.

— Was there no chance to lock yourself in Barcelona in some, if not Russian-speaking, then at least English-speaking, more familiar community and not leave it?

Of course, there were: there are a lot of different expats here who are doing business and stuff, but honestly, I wasn't interested in that. These people probably didn't come to Barcelona because their country started a war and is bombing neighboring countries, and they need to save themselves. They came to Barcelona, ​​probably, because they work in a cool startup, it's sunny here and you can swim in the sea. And then it seemed to me, at that moment, like, what can you even talk about with these people?

- And you started learning Spanish because you didn't want to surround yourself with people who were far removed from the war. But the Spanish-speaking community is even farther removed from our problems.

It's true. And that's probably one of the reasons why I don't specifically seek out any socialization with Spaniards: if you want, you can find communities to spend time in, but I haven't managed to find any Spanish friends yet.

Of course, these are people with completely different problems. How are you going to explain to a Spaniard that yesterday Russia attacked a children's hospital in Ukraine and you transferred part of your saved money to this hospital to at least somehow help? That, in essence, this week you will, roughly speaking, eat less, because otherwise it is somehow not right. How do you tell this to a Spaniard?

— To be honest, often you don’t even want to learn the language of the country where you are forced to live.

It's true. I sat on Sundays, doing my homework for three hours. And I thought: I have no desire, I'd rather drink beer. But I have to - to integrate.

— What does it mean for you to integrate?

I think you should at least be able to read the news in the language of the country where you live. And use the language of that country in everyday life. You go to the market and don't try to explain yourself in English. Knowing the language opens up various interesting opportunities.

For example, I recently needed to pick up a parcel from Honduras: my wife's older sister, through a friend of hers who lives there, ordered a soccer uniform for her child, and it was sent from there to Spain. And I came to a Latin American neighborhood yesterday. I go up to the entrance, there are Latin American girls standing there, I ask them - a white dude in glasses - like: is this where they hand out parcels from Honduras? I went into this apartment, there was Latin pop playing, stood in the hallway for a while, and said: I have a parcel from Honduras, I need to pick it up. Such things enrich your life, they allow you to go beyond the usual, and they are only available if you know Spanish.

— You said that it is important for you to read the news of the country where you live. But we are already constantly living in Russian and Ukrainian news. Where can a genuine interest in the news of a third, foreign country come from?

I understand why the question is asked: people get tired of the news. But the news from Spain is important to me, because I just live here. And the news doesn't always have to be about someone being jailed, killed, bombed, we're just not used to it. For example, there was news a week and a half or two ago that the Spanish government was zeroing out the VAT on olive oil. Cool, I'll be interested to see how much the price will drop later.

Or, for example, I was recently preparing breakfast while my wife was sleeping, listening to Spanish radio, I have a radio in the kitchen. And I heard that in Spain they celebrate San Fermin. It's a famous holiday, Hemingway described it. In the city of Pamplona, ​​the capital of the Navarre region, they release bulls into the street, and people run away from them, everyone hangs out like that for several days. It's interesting to know that such a thing started in some part of Spain.

- But this is not your holiday. You have no childhood memories associated with this holiday, no feelings associated with it.

Yes, I really have no memories, no knowledge, nothing at all. But I moved to a new country, and I live my life in this country. And so these national holidays, which are unfamiliar to me, are also part of my life. If you want to understand what's going on, you need to know about them. You need to, I don't know, understand some things in Spain. Well, at least have an idea of ​​what's going on here.

— But following Spanish news also means understanding local politics. This is the behavior of not just a migrant, but a citizen.

I have already applied for citizenship - I haven’t received it yet, but I am determined to be a citizen.

— What would being a citizen of Spain mean for you? Just having a legal status, the ability to travel around the world? Or being a real citizen, like we were citizens in Russia? Fighting for something, supporting change?

It's hard to say: I'm worried that I won't be given any citizenship at all. This is a very unusual story for me: a simple guy from the Moscow region applies for a European passport 12 years after graduating from school. For me, this is a little crazy.

But I'm learning Spanish, and I'd really like to write in Spanish. My tutor and I are even learning to write news in the language. They're probably terrible, but I can write four paragraphs with a headline.

I would, of course, really like to… Since I’m already in Spain, I would really like to do something for Spain. Maybe it would be great to become a Spanish-language journalist, if I had the opportunity.

Or maybe join some political party and do something that, frankly speaking, is either impossible or very difficult to do in Russia.

— Where does this desire come from – to do something for a country where you were not born?

But if I had the opportunity - a hypothetical situation - to convey to the Spanish authorities why it is important to help people with Russian passports who want to move to Spain, pay taxes, because they do not want to live in Russia, do not agree with Putin's regime. If I had the opportunity to convey this and offer some, maybe even concessions - for example, to ensure that there are no problems with opening these fucking bank cards. I think I would have done a useful thing.

These people will pay taxes that will go to the Spanish budget. Since I have an economic background in the media, I am now looking at it this way: let's not bully people from Russia, because they will bring such and such benefits to the country of Spain. You don't have enough money in the budget or your region doesn't have enough, then you can get such and such a percentage, maybe, of revenues from these taxes. Why build barriers if you can help the country like this? Well, yes.

— When we were engaged in some political or civil activity in Russia, we imagined for whom we would do it. We imagined the target audience: our friends, our social circle, our parents, for whom we wanted a better life. But in a foreign country you cannot imagine such a target audience, you do not know these people.

And here... After all, you are doing this for yourself, and, perhaps, for your future children.

Well, I think the difference is that in Russia, if you go to a rally, you are considered an enemy. But there are countries where if you are involved in politics, it does not mean that you are an enemy.

For example, since I am a sole proprietor in Spain, I pay taxes. I have a consultant who helps me file my taxes. I was at his office, and he said to me: listen, you have an overpayment of taxes that will be returned to you, and we can choose where we will send this amount. You can, he says, send these taxes to the Ministry of Labor, you can send them to the church, you can send them to the Red Cross.

That is, there is a choice here where you will send this unfortunate overpayment of taxes. I say: let's send it to the Ministry of Labor. This money will probably go to unemployment benefits.

But that's not important. What's important is that you have a choice. And it manifests itself even in such small things.

— So it turns out that you want to do something for Spain in a civil sense, because here it is clear that this can lead to an increase in your own well-being, your family’s. But in Russia — no.

Yes, you have formulated correctly what I was trying to say.

Many people who left Russia live under the illusion that just a little bit more and the regime will waver and we will return. And I think this is self-deception. From my point of view, no one will return to Russia in the foreseeable future. And it seems to me wrong to waste your life waiting. It is very harmful for us.

When Franco's regime was in Spain, which ended in the early 1970s, in the 1960s there was a discourse that Franco was very ill physically. And there was talk that now, just a little bit more, he would die, and we would build a democratic, normal Spain here. In the end, he lived for almost ten more years. Therefore, these thoughts that now, just a little bit more - they seem to me to be misleading.

But we only have one life. And I think it should not be lived in such a context.

— People who believe in a return always have a counterargument that the more people break away from the Russian context, the more people begin to make efforts to improve life in other countries, and not in our own, the longer the Putin regime will not waver.

In order for the regime in Russia to "shake", from my point of view, pressure is needed not from ordinary people, but from the largest businessmen, people with money, people with influence. We all took to the streets in different years. But since many significant people at that time - with large capital, with great influence among the elite - did not support these protests, they, unfortunately, did not lead to what we hoped they would lead to. This is my counterargument.

— Do you ever read the latest news from Russia about imprisonments and torture — and feel like you need to go back, work underground and somehow help Russians? I don’t know, become a lawyer for political prisoners.

No. Although I miss my hometown, Dubna, very much. It is a small town in the Moscow region. I miss it so much that I even watch surveillance cameras – we have several of them around the city. Every two days I watch the broadcast from the camera next to my house.

I have no desire to go back and do any kind of social work, because if you do it, it's only a matter of time before you end up behind bars. I have no desire to go to prison.

But of course there were thoughts like, fuck all this emigration, I'm going back to Russia. But this is usually connected with everyday problems: something doesn't work out, my Spanish wasn't understood, when I went to fix some joysticks for the console, I spent more money than I expected, and you think: damn, I'm so tired of counting every penny. You think: fuck all this Spain, I'll go back to Dubna, live with my parents, sit at home and walk along the Volga.

But, first of all, I am not alone, I have a wife, for whom I am also responsible, there is a new life that we have built together. You can't just break away and start building a new life back in Russia.

And secondly, it is very important for me to say what I feel, what I think, and not to self-censor. At the very beginning of the war, when I had not yet quit the Central Bank, I had to contrive not to write the word “war,” but to come up with some less cannibalistic synonym than “special operation.” I remember writing two texts in which I had to dodge like that, and I thought: God, how I want to puke.

And I realized: I don’t want that, I don’t want to just stupidly write something on Twitter ( recognized as an extremist organization and banned in Russia ), and then, like, shake out of fear that someone will write a denunciation of me.

— That is, thoughts about returning to Russia arise in connection with your daily life, comfort, money — but not because you read the news that someone was jailed there again, and you think: damn, why should I write all this on Twitter ( it is recognized as an extremist organization and banned in Russia ), I’d rather go and bring parcels to political prisoners.

No, I don't have such thoughts. I'm trying to build my life somehow. Maybe it sounds selfish - but, damn, it's true.

— Now you work for the Russian audience. And in the future? Will you still work in journalism, even in Spanish?

Maybe in journalism, maybe they'll invite me somewhere else - to some think tank . If everything gets really bad - I'll go work at McDonald's. To be honest, it's not that important to me. If I have to work with my hands - well, I'll have to work with my hands, what can I do. First of all, you think about how to get a salary, where to get money.

— It seems to me that in Russia we somehow correlated our careers with the country. There are repressions in the country — I’ll go work for an independent publication, because it helps fight these repressions. Let’s say I saw that contemporary art is developing in Russia — I’ll go and study to be a screenwriter and write scripts for cool Russian films. It’s as if you correlate yourself with the country, with where it’s heading, and with where the people you respect work. And you think: my measure of success in my career will be that I will be appreciated by the people I appreciate. But there are no people abroad that you appreciate, you don’t know anyone and you don’t admire anyone.

That's true. But I didn't have that: I started my career with the Dozhd TV channel ( recognized as an undesirable organization in the Russian Federation ), because it was cool to work for the Dozhd TV channel. Then I started to form my specialization, and since I write about economics, I went to work for the Central Bank: it suited my interests.

The topic of the Russian economy is currently of interest to many, especially abroad, Russian-speaking people too. So while I see demand for this expertise, it exists, I reassure myself that if there is demand, then there is probably demand for some of my skills.

— So you will measure the success of your career rather by your income level?

Yes: if you have an income, you have enough money to live on, and maybe you even start to earn a little more money - that's the measure of your skills and specialties. You sell a service for which money is paid. I think so.

— It turns out that in emigration the focus of attention shifts, as it were, from the state and society to oneself, the well-being of oneself and one’s family.

Yes, it is possible. Because if you live in pre-war Russia, you go to rallies, you believe that this is how you can express your disagreement. And you believe that you are doing a good deed. You go to work, you get a salary, it seems like there is money. But if there is no money, you will borrow, maybe you will return to your parents in your childhood room, you will live there.

But abroad, at least for me, it doesn't work that way. You live in an apartment that you have to pay a lot for. You have bills to pay. And if you suddenly run out of money, you can't just go back somewhere, move out, wait it out.

And that's why things like stupid money have become much more important, it seems to me, in life.

— Abstractly good deeds have been replaced by deeds that are good for your family, for you.

Yes, I think so.

— It seems to me that when you work in Russia — in a small business, in the media — there is a feeling that you are making an effort to build something important in your community. Even when you work in a coffee shop, it is as if you are participating in the creation of an urban environment, and not just making coffee. But working for a foreign company — you say that you could go to work in a think tank — it does not seem to create such a feeling of contribution to something big.

Yes, I wouldn't be interested in sitting in some corporation and moving an Excel spreadsheet either. That's why I'm talking about a think tank: when you can share your opinion, write something about a situation you understand, it seems to me that you're doing something socially useful.

— That is, it is socially useful, just not for Russia, but for the international community?

I think so. You just need to adapt to the conditions: if they help improve your life or the life of your family, then you should probably agree to them. Yes, perhaps you will no longer be helping Russians in any way – but you have to make some compromises with yourself.

— Don’t you feel despair that even if you have Spanish-speaking friends, you won’t have the closeness that we usually get from communicating in Russian? I find myself thinking that a significant part of my friendship is built on such peculiarities of the Russian language, on such stupid jokes and puns that bring us closer.

It's true. Like that famous meme with the number six and the caption: "Eight." If I showed this joke to a Spaniard, he would say something like: what? Yes, I understand that, it really exists, and you can hardly explain to the Spaniards why Russians on Twitter ( recognized as an extremist organization and banned in Russia ) discussed mole. Yes, it's probably just a layer that makes our communication with each other unique. Maybe the Spaniards have such jokes too.

- But you will never understand them. And it turns out that you are condemning yourself to a life in which there will not be the level of closeness that is achieved with Russian-speaking friends.

Yes. But honestly, it doesn't scare me at all. Well, yes. But it might not happen again. Well, God bless it, to be honest. I don't know, other things just appear that you think about more often. About, I don't know, how you and your partner will live, what you need to buy. Well, you know, family, family everyday things that you just pay more attention to.

— Emigration gave us real family values.

Yes, you could say that.

— You say that you miss Dubna very much. But I will ask you again. After all, there is a narrative that you should — out of a sense of patriotism — somehow connect yourself to your homeland, somehow help it. Doesn’t this patriotism push you to go and somehow support the community in which you grew up, to help people who are having a hard time?

I don't think you owe anything to anyone. You can express these patriotic feelings in different ways. You can keep the feelings about this place somewhere inside you, or you can actually go and do something. There is no manual that would tell you how to do it. Like, you know, in the instructions for the refrigerator. Press the button to cool the refrigerator. There is no such thing.

Well, and it is clear that you cannot do anything freely when we have such a rigid centralization of power in Russia. You cannot hold a lecture in your small town by some interesting person who is objectionable to the regime. It is impossible. You cannot force schools in your town not to hold exhibitions dedicated to the "SVO". You cannot do this because all the cities live by a certain order from the center, and you cannot do anything about it.

— But in the end, your life doesn’t lose meaning because you can’t do something for the places you love?

Well, no, I wouldn't say that the meaning is lost. Yes, it is unpleasant. Yes, it is very unpleasant and bad, but it is not a reason to be upset about. I think you just have to accept it and live with it.