My life in Moscow: what I will (and will not) miss

Photos: Facebook Julia Ioffe

Julia Ioffe, a correspondent for The New Yorker and Foreign Policy magazines, was born in Moscow, but spent most of her life in America. She returned to her homeland in 2009 and worked in Moscow for several years. Blogging for New Republic she wrote what attracted her Russian capital and what she would never miss.

4 September 2012, I will leave Moscow, not having reached several weeks before 30 from the day I was born here. In this period, I managed to spend half my childhood here, then my whole life in America, where I received a scholarship, which was September 12, 2009, and brought me to Moscow for 9 months. Instead, I stayed here on 3 of the year. I did not expect to stay here for so long, and certainly did not expect that these 3 years would turn me into a real, living journalist (the doctor’s career was absolutely unrealistic backup plan). I did not suspect that I would interview people I had a chance to talk with, I didn’t think that I could speak real, competent, adult Russian so well that they would invite me to local television. I did not think that I would see what I saw, I did not expect to write as much as I wrote, and certainly I had no idea that it would be so difficult to leave this place. I did not know that I would fall in love.

After the 14 hour flight with a transfer in Zurich, I will land at Dulles International Airport and start my life in Washington, DC. I will have a new job and new colleagues. There will be new friends. I’m sure I’ll still come to Moscow to write an article or two, but my life will henceforth flow on the shores of the Chezapik Bay. And then, after months of emotional longing, Moscow, finally, will blur into a bright spot, will be a topic for conversations over lunch or a pass to a separate world of other American journalists, who were also here and left the city changed. Moscow will be another item of my biography.

But somewhere deep behind these stories, this foreign city will be hidden - at the same time my native, and at the same time absolutely alien; the city that I loved and hated for so long. There will be all the little things in life that I will happily forget and will remember with longing. And before my memory erases these little things, I want to write them down.

When I leave Moscow, I will not miss the traffic jams, the terrible air and the prices of the city covered by the gold rush, but I will miss the bombilam, which for almost six dollars will take you almost anywhere.

I will miss the grace of the Soviet metro stations - all these stained glass windows, marble, utopian and luxurious mosaics. I will miss the trains that rarely have to wait longer than a minute. I will not miss the car at nine in the morning, shrouded in peregar — hungover exhaust digested alcohol.

I will not miss how much and how much Russians drink, but I will miss my booze with the Russians.

I will not miss the night conversations during which you fall into an epistemological black hole. It is impossible to prove anything exactly and find out for sure, except that your interlocutor is making more and more wild statements. In Moscow, I had to argue on the following topics: whether or not Stalin’s signature on the shooting lists from the archives was forged; am I not too naive if I think that the American traffic police do not take bribes; am I not a spy for the CIA; why America is more successful than Somalia (hint: because it was not founded by blacks). I was also asked to prove that smoking causes lung cancer.

I will not miss racism, which is in the order of things here, and ostensibly friendly anti-Semitic jokes. I will miss the fact that everyone here can masterly depict a Georgian accent and knows a lot of truly magnificent jokes about Jews.

In addition, I will miss the fact that in the light of the anti-Kremlin protests of recent months there is still a place in this world where you can argue about things that have not been discussed in the West for a long time and have become commonplace. What is spoken about loud words and simple concepts like “freedom”, and people argue whether an official can have a private life.

I will not miss talking on abstract topics that can be terribly boring.

I will not miss domestic sexism, but I will miss the excellent quotes for articles that appear thanks to him. When Bolshoi’s prima Anastasia Volochkova withdrew from the ruling United Russia party, the party responded as follows: “Women, like children, are prone to mood swings. Anastasia Volochkova in this sense is a real woman "(as one of my American friends noticed," here, as in the series Mad Menonly dressed all the worse ").

I will not miss life in a city where almost all faces are white, everyone has Orthodox crosses on their necks, where the only places of worship that can be seen are Orthodox church churches, and the church itself works closely with the state. The medieval beauty of architecture pales when there is nothing to compare it with, and when you know what crimes are happening on behalf of this church. Monopoly is a monopoly, there is nothing to add.

I will not miss the fact that Jewish culture and the Jewish people from this city have practically disappeared, and that as the only way to preserve their Jewish roots, another monopoly has remained - Lubavich Hassidism.

I will miss the fact that when you go for a birthday, you definitely need to bring a bouquet of flowers or a gift. It can be expensive, but it is terribly nice to give presents. And when you arrange your birthday yourself, then you have to fork out for food and drink, but then you barely take the flowers, not to mention the gifts.

I will not miss the fact that no one believes in the Russian system: neither in institutions nor in people. I will miss the strength of the relationship that emerges when this confidence can be established.

I will miss the fact that Russians are not afraid of either the phenomenon that we nervously call in America “the word with the letter L”, nor the adventures in which it can drag you.

I will not miss the fact that every single educated woman of my age seems to be a single mother. I will miss the children who are here - the natural continuation of the life of each person, and not some special, carefully planned project.

I will not miss the fact that no one here plans anything, that everything at all levels is going on all the time and hastily, that everything, as they say in Russia, is done “through the ass.” I will miss the fact that there is no need for two weeks to negotiate with someone about dinner, and your high life can be relaxed, organic and sincere.

I will miss strange and vivid expressions (this means, as they say here, “telling the truth to the womb”) (literal translation - comment by Inosmi).

I will not miss the fact that in a city with a population of 15 million people there is hardly a couple of decent bars and restaurants. I will miss the fact that most of them resemble the atmosphere of an institution like Cheers - when you come in, you will meet half of your friends. In addition, there is a reason to learn how to cook well yourself.

I will miss the fact that you can order water in a restaurant, and the waiter asks: “Are you at room temperature, or cold?” With an expression on his face hinting that the second variant threatens you with solitude in the arms of the upper respiratory tract (about this ).

I will miss Russian journalists who are ready to drink beer with you until three o'clock in the morning when I am at work. I will not miss my thoughts on how this affects the quality of their work. And mine too.

I will miss the attachment to social networks and SMS like "Look at my page on Facebook! I will not miss how much time they have torn off my social network from work. Although no, I think I will.

I thought that I would not miss the emoticons that are everywhere here - especially - these, without eyes - but I was mistaken))))))

I will miss the heels, but not the pain caused by long walks on them in Moscow.

I will not miss Botox faces and terribly silicone-inflated lips, obviously hair extensions, “fishtail” hairstyles, when hair goes into bangs to the neck, and a variety of men's shoes - from sharp-toed shoes to cheese-like shoes , in men's trousers, in men's jeans, which are either too tight, or too loose in the most unexpected places. I will miss my observations of people. A friend, who came to visit from New York, confirmed: Moscow will beat the Big Apple, even if her manicured hands are tied behind her back.

I will miss the incredible medical theories I have heard here. Acne? Try to rub sperm in your face. Migraine? Yes, you overeat mayonnaise. Cervical cancer? You worry too much. But I will not miss the fact that I was simply afraid to go to the doctors here (my friend’s six-year-old daughter broke her arm, and when the doctor saw the X-ray, he looked at it for a long time, then grabbed the medical reference book and started flipping through fiercely. Friend they said that he was HIV-positive, and he lived with this diagnosis for a whole week).

I will miss the fact that antibiotics and almost everything else are freely available at the pharmacy here. I won't miss people in line at the pharmacy looking over your shoulder and asking, "Why are you taking such an expensive medicine?" (there is no word for personal space in Russian).

I will not miss the fact that here I have to carry a passport with me, even in order to return a pair of slippers to the store. I will miss the cashiers at the bank, who are looking at my American passport and are surprised that everything is not in Russian.

I will not miss the fact that in Russia the absence of the dictatorship of the law sublimates into the tyranny of bureaucracy and the dictatorship of formalities. Without the correct, notarized piece of paper, as they say, "you are a poo".

I will not miss the fact that no one ever has a change, especially the cashiers. But I remembered all the skills of arithmetic.

I will not miss aggression and rudeness, without which not a single dialogue can do. I will miss the creative sarcasm that everyone develops as a result.

I will miss the sophisticated, talented Russian sense of humor.

I will miss the laser precision with which Russia answers the questions: “Was there a cafe somewhere nearby?” “Yes” “... and where is it?”. "On the second floor".

I will miss the long, frosty Russian winters and the heat preservation skills that they make work out. Especially, I will miss the hot, short Russian summer, when it gets dark only shortly before midnight, and the whole city lives in open cafes.

I will miss how Moscow hardens you, how unhappy it makes you, and how it teaches you to look for the beautiful and enjoy it. I will miss the overwhelming feeling of happiness that you experience in such moments. Over the 3 of the year, I have never seen anyone cry in the streets.

Translation: Inosmi

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