Kitabı oku: «Moscow Diary. By An American Living in Moscow»

© Francesca de Bardin, 2024

ISBN 978-5-0064-8702-4

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

CHAPTER 1
From New York City to Paris to Moscow

It was negative 5.5 degrees Celsius (22 degrees Fahrenheit) and snowing on January 5, 2022 when I arrived in Moscow – my first day as a retired American living in the capital of Russia. I moved here from a small town in southern France where I had lived for eight years. On the day I left France, it was 16.6 degrees Celsius (62 degrees Fahrenheit) and sunny.

I stayed in a small hotel near the apartment I had rented, awaiting the arrival of my furniture and household possessions by truck from France. Eight years prior, all my possessions were moved to France from New York. The idea of starting a new life in Moscow, in a different culture was as intimidating as it was appealing. For one, I wanted the comfort of the familiar objects in my surroundings that had accompanied me for years.

I knew three Muscovites at the time and spoke two words of Russian: «da» (or «yes») and («nyet» (or «no»). My smartphone was a lifesaver, as it could translate my words into Russian. I anticipated a rich life in Moscow – enjoying museums, the ballet, parks and gardens, among other things. Having lived in New York City most of my life, I was accustomed to big-city life. Living in a mega-metropolis like Moscow promised adventures and challenges that I welcomed. I had previously visited St. Petersburg and Moscow as a tourist and appreciated the rich culture, diversity, and history of the thousand-year-old Russian civilization.

Fate brought me here for a variety of reasons. I never intended to write a book about my experiences in Moscow until the intense anti-Russian rhetoric of the collective West became impossible for me to ignore. I decided to write this book not only as a rebuttal to anti-Russian rhetoric, but also to share how profoundly I’ve been touched by the openness, kindness, compassion, humanity, and generosity of the Russians I meet every day.

This isn’t a history book, guide book, or discourse on culture – it’s about my experiences and observations as a retired American living in Moscow. It’s a very personal story, one in which I share challenges and surprises, mixed with some history, humor, thoughts on things to see, and personal insights.

It’s my hope that this book will be entertaining, informative, inspiring, and touching. I hope it encourages more objectivity and respect between our cultures and a genuine desire to learn more about each other. The de Bardin family motto, in French, is «Faire Face,» which translates as «Meet the Challenge.» I do so now, with pleasure.

As an American citizen with French citizenship, I was able to live almost anywhere – and I chose Moscow. It’s the first question Russians ask me: «Why are you living here?»

I was born in San Francisco, California, and educated in Catholic schools. I grew up in a middle-class home. My parents had immigrated from Italy. My values are traditional and conservative. I have travelled the world for business and pleasure, visited the world’s major museums, the greatest religious places of worship, and ancient archeological sites, from the Yucatan to Luxor to Machu Picchu. I’m an adventuress by nature.

I’m also fiercely independent, a nonconformist with a penchant for speaking provocatively. For most of my life in the United States those traits were admired. As an entrepreneur in New York City, from 1980 to 2010, I achieved success founding and leading three diverse businesses.

In the 1990s, I began to see the progressive deterioration of standards in the spheres of media, academia, justice, business, politics, education, culture, and spirituality. It was a slow degradation, but obvious and painful for me to watch. It became the «norm» to go along with the social engineering that began undermining the ethics and standards of our institutions in the name of «progress.» Meritocracy was being replaced by ideology.

Ethics and moral standards, virtue and vice, right and wrong, were ignored. Cultural values and core principles that were the cornerstone of Western civilization were replaced by moral relativism, with each individual having the right to determine his or her moral standards. Everything was permitted. It didn’t take long for greed, conspicuous consumption, and superficial status symbols to pervade our lives. It was troubling to witness how avarice became the «new normal.»

Fate interceded and, in Paris, I met and fell in love with an elegant French man who became my husband, Claude de Bardin. Our conservative philosophies and values were in harmony. We divided our time between Paris and New York for 15 years. I was immersed in French culture, history, art, architecture, and the «French style.» It was a less superficial lifestyle than New York City. In Paris, I could indulge my passions for food, art, architecture, and renovating our Paris apartment. We also rented an apartment in southern France for the winters.

When my beloved husband passed away in 2014, I decided to remain in the apartment we had rented in southern France. It’s a very small town of 30,000, magnificently beautiful and the perfect place to grieve. I then sold or donated most of my possessions in New York and the remaining belongings were transported by ship to France.

In early 2020, the WHO announced the pandemic status of the COVID-19 outbreak. I was suspicious about the speed at which the entire world fell into conformity, pushing masks, «vaccines,» and shutting down businesses. I did research and concluded I would resist being «jabbed.» Arbitrary laws were instituted by the French government regarding how many could socialize at home, mask enforcement, travel restrictions, and proof of vaccine or a PCR test (which cost 30 euros and was good for three days) in order to dine out or have a coffee in an outdoor café. I was having none of it and continued to refuse to be «vaccinated.»

In June 2021, fate intervened again. My landlord of eight years informed me that he wished to sell my apartment, which I could buy or would need to vacate by February 2022. While life in France was enchanting in so many ways, cultural life was limited in the small town where I resided. Though the area was magnificently beautiful, I concluded that there’s more to life than beautiful weather and scenery.

Having no permanent ties to France, I realized I could now choose to live wherever I wished. I had both U.S. and French passports, so the choice was mine. I had no interest in living in the U.S. based on what I had been observing. France had its charms, but the government was becoming more oppressive with each passing week. I didn’t wish to remain in France, so I chose Moscow.

Recently, a Russian man overheard me speaking English and asked where I was from. I told him I was American and had just moved to Moscow from France. When he asked why I left France, I responded, «For liberte, egalite, and fraternite.» He laughed and said, «You were right.»

But there was another important reason. In 2016, I wrote a book called Fighting Global Tyranny, which traces the history and methods of the global oligarchy leading the world today. Between 2020 and 2021, I noticed the strengthening of the alliance between Russia and China – something the United States had been determined to prevent, at all costs, for decades. I saw the center of gravity changing from West to East. It appeared as if a civilizational transformation was taking place: the end of Anglo/Saxon hegemony and the dawn of a multipolar world. I couldn’t imagine a more exciting city to live in than Moscow, the capital of the new multipolar world. I wanted to have a seat, front and center. It was an easy decision to make.

It wasn’t my first major relocation: I had moved from California to New York City to pursue a marketing career; had relocated to southern France from New York in 2014; and I now prepared to move to Moscow. I knew there would be challenges I couldn’t imagine, but I have always lived by the philosophy that «There is always a solution.»

At the time, I only knew four Russians: my neighbor in France, a retired colonel in the Russian Army who visited from St. Petersburg three-to-four times a year; my Moscow tour guide, Katya, who had lived in the United States; and a couple in Moscow, Natasha and Alex, with whom I had a friendship for five years. They all encouraged me to move to Moscow.

Being a big-city girl, I was eager to again live in an international city with all the cultural things I enjoy: opera, ballet, art museums, interesting people, the promise of new cultural experiences, and an adventure every day. Living in the center of the civilizational changes taking place reinforced my decision. Many Russians tell me that I was very brave to move to Moscow alone. I always respond, «It wasn’t bravery. I was escaping tyranny.»

Before making a final decision to relocate, I moved to Moscow for two months to explore neighborhoods and to see how I would feel living there. I contacted five real estate brokers to search for an apartment. Unbeknownst to me, most apartments in Moscow are rented furnished. It took two months to find an unfurnished apartment that met my criteria and budget. Having found something perfect, organizing the move was the next project.

When I arrived, my Russian friends told me that most people 30 to 40 years of age spoke English, so if I needed assistance I should look for someone that age. It was advice I followed daily. My first experience with the kindness of Russian strangers occurred almost immediately.

After I found the apartment I wanted, buying a tape measure was a necessity. I decided to walk around the neighborhood to find a hardware store. Remembering the advice of my friends, I saw three young men ahead of me and said, «Excuse me, do you speak English?» «A little,» they responded. I explained that I needed to buy a tape measure and asked if they knew where I could find a hardware store. They said yes, that it’s not far, and began giving me directions. They saw the worried look on my face, and knowing I didn’t understand the directions, one of them said, «Never mind, we’ll take you there.» We walked for several minutes to the store and they came inside to help me select and buy a tape measure. I invited them to coffee afterward, but they declined as they were off to visit a sick friend. «Don’t worry,» one of them said. «We’re not going to leave you here. We’ll walk you back to where we found you so you can find your way home.» Thank goodness, I thought. One of the men, who also spoke French, gave me his telephone number and said, «Call me if you need anything.»

CHAPTER 2
Challenges and Discoveries I Didn’t Expect

Two months after my arrival in Moscow, the sanctions against Russia began. Suddenly, most of my old friends in America ignored or responded superficially to my messages. Having access to U.S./Western media in Moscow, I could see how the media was constantly pushing an anti-Russian narrative. and any semblance of media balance was non-existent. I never discussed the conflict in Ukraine with any of them, nor did they ask me any questions about life here. I became a ghost to them. It was unsettling for me to lose contact with so many friends, but I understood they were being bombarded with only a biased narrative, and also were probably fearful of writing to someone in Moscow.

My friends in Europe didn’t react this way at all. They viewed the media as one-sided and were skeptical of what they read. One of my French friends actually said, «You left France just in time.»

I now began to wonder how all these sanctions might affect my relationships with Russians. I had learned to say, in Russian, «I’m sorry, I don’t speak Russian, I’m American.» The reaction was always very positive. They told me about their families in the United States, where they had visited and how much they enjoyed their travels there.

Sanctions or not, I decided to continue saying, «I’m American,» and to be ready for negative reactions from Russians. It never happened. Nothing changed. They were always so happy to see an American living in Moscow and frequently gushed over me. They were eager to speak with me in English, ask me questions, and express how happy they were to meet me. If I struggled to communicate, someone usually came forward, speaking English, to help translate. My worries about being an American living in Moscow disappeared. Russians embraced me – not only adults, but children too.

It was a warm spring day and I had just made my frequent pilgrimage to Hall 37 of the Tretyakov Museum to see the paintings of my favorite Russian landscape artist, Isaac Levitan. I was sitting on a bench in a small park pondering my next stop. A group of young students on a field trip to the museum were waiting together across from me. One of the young men approached me. When I told him I didn’t speak Russian, that I was American, he ran over to his teacher and gave her the news. She came over immediately for a chat in English. She then announced to the children they had an American in their midst and they should speak to me in English! A small group of the students came over to practice English and asked me questions. They were open, friendly, and playful. One wanted to know my age. I told him I was 16. He laughed and shook his head. I tried 22, but he didn’t believe that either. We had a good laugh and he finally gave up. We all took pictures and waved goodbye.

St. Petersburg and Moscow are dazzling cities for tourists. Prior to my decision to move to Moscow, I had visited them three times. In addition, I also took the Volga/Neva River cruise to the Gulf of Finland, stopping in small towns and visiting great palaces along the way. I had guides for my private visits, so that I could learn as much about local history and culture as possible. While the experience of visiting a city as a tourist can be rich and enlightening, it’s never the same as living in the actual city.

What astonished me the most, from the first day I resided full time in Moscow, was the kindness I encountered from Russian strangers I would meet on the street or in stores. I was overwhelmed by their warmth, concern, humanity, generosity, and compassion. I remember the many times they would personally take me where I needed to go even if it was out of their way. They would personally stay with me until I had accomplished my goal. It was much more than a kind gesture – they always remained with me to the end. I have traveled around the world and never experienced anything like this. Not only did it surprise me, but also touched me deeply. I was very curious how and why this compassion became such an integral part of Russian character and culture. I began to notice that their compassion brought out the best in me. I felt embraced here and I returned the embrace.

CHAPTER 3
Russians Are «We» Not «I» Oriented

It seemed that every day a Muscovite was aiding me with something over and above the normal polite assistance one encounters in most countries. I shall share some of those experiences with you throughout this book. It baffled me, and I wanted to learn why these people were so special – so eager to offer assistance, so humane and kind. I began researching to understand the source of this compassion. The first person I contacted was Ludmilla Selezneva, a Russian historian and professor whose lectures I had attended on my first trip to Russia and whose book Growing Up Russian I had read. I explained my mission and she generously agreed to a meeting. Her vast knowledge opened me to new revelations that I eagerly pursued. Not only that, but Ludmilla graciously agreed to review the chapters in this book for historical accuracy, and for which I’m incredibly grateful.

Further meetings and studies revealed the genesis of Russia’s «we» culture – customs and behaviors that intertwined and reinforced each other over centuries of history.

Deep faith and common values are nurtured by the fundamental teachings of the Russian Orthodox Church. Prince Vladimir adopted the Orthodox faith from Constantinople in 988 which introduced cultural influences that profoundly affected the Russian consciousness. Orthodoxy had a major impact on politics, art, and nearly every other aspect of Russia’s culture. The church affected the thought patterns and motivations of a whole culture and changed the way Russians thought about themselves and the ways that they lived their lives. Orthodoxy was the spiritual and moral core of society. It helped shape the character of the Russian people, their cultural traditions, ethical norms, and aesthetic ideals.

The Orthodox Church also played a role in developing laws and had a strong influence on international relations. The church acted as a unifying factor for the Russian nation with its shared traditions and holidays. Russians feel a strong sense of community with one another through a shared bond of faith. As a result of this emphasis on the community, the rights of the individual are united by common convictions and values of the Orthodox Church.

After the October Revolution in 1917, the Russian government established atheism as the state doctrine. While most organized religions were repressed, believers continued to worship in private and in some religious buildings. In 1943, Joseph Stalin relaxed the clamp on the Russian Orthodox Church in order to encourage patriotism, keep the nation united, and help fight the Second World War.

Family and community traditions with strong community bonds provided protection against extreme hardship brought about by wars, famines, and unspeakable suffering. Until the 20^th century, Russian peasants, who made up 80 percent of the population, lived mainly in «communities.» They had common possession of the land and made all their decisions together. They had common responsibilities, including paying their state taxes and growing their food together. They cared for each other as family and community during hardship, sharing food and necessities to survive. They were great communalists. And this tradition created interdependence, promoting feelings of friendship, trust, and goodwill.

The Soviet educational system promoted the communist ideology through two organizations that all children were obliged to join: October Child (ages seven to nine) and Pioneers (ages 10 to 14). The rules of the organizations encouraged kindness and compassion as critical Soviet values. The essence of the children’s organizations was to prepare children for their future life and to give them an understanding that a person’s main task on earth is to be kind to other people – so, assistance, help, trust, friendship, and goodwill should be the very center of life. Children were encouraged to do good things.

It was only after living here that I began to appreciate how this culture of «we» can make such a profound impact on the lives not only of people, but also on nations. The «I» culture in the United States and the West is more individualistic, materialistic, and competitive. It’s a striking difference. I began to observe how Russia’s «we» culture permeated so many aspects of daily life among families, friends, and colleagues. I experience it daily, as «foreigners» aren’t excluded from this culture. My new Russian friends were strangers I encountered who reached out to me when I had difficulties.

CHAPTER 4
My First Russian Friends

Alexey is the manager of the company that moved all my belongings overland from southern France to Moscow. He had lived in New York City, spoke English, and arrived on a snowy day in early January with five men to unload all my household goods, place the furniture, unpack everything, and put things in place. It took three days, so we had time to discuss many things. He was very curious about why I moved to Moscow and asked me many questions. After the move, he stayed in touch with me to see how I was doing and was always available if I needed advice. He always sends greetings on holidays and one day invited me to visit the Arkhangelskoye State Museum just west of Moscow. He was my first new Russian friend.

A few months later, Alexey asked me if I had ever seen a hockey game. I hadn’t. I joined Alexey and his gracious wife, Anna, to see their 16-year-old son compete in a playoff match. It was thrilling to experience my first hockey game. The team’s stamina, strength, and expert skating – forwards and backwards, stopping in an instant – were exhilarating to watch. The team members practice daily and the venues exist all over Moscow.

In the winter, there are free ice-skating rinks for hockey and outdoor winter sports located throughout the city. The former mayor of Moscow also established indoor ice rinks and sports clubs throughout the city. Children start learning hockey in these clubs at four years old and train until they’re nine years old. Depending on their ability and desire, they can then become part of a local team. Parents pay for the child's equipment only. There are no other fees. Teams compete weekly, and practice and coaching sessions take up a substantial part of the free time of the players.

Julia overheard me asking a young man for assistance. I had just finished shopping at my favorite gourmet store, walked outside, and ordered a taxi. It was snowing slightly. The taxi hadn’t arrived and my phone died. It was too far to walk home and I became worried. I asked a young man to help me, but he didn’t speak English. Julia was heading into the store, heard me, and asked if she could help. I explained the problem and we chatted in English together while waiting for the taxi. She had worked for IKEA, lived near to me, and had four children. The taxi still hadn’t arrived, but she told me not to worry, because I was in her safe hands. She stood outside with me for more than 10 minutes and assured me she would make sure I got home safely. She asked if I would be willing to tutor her young son in English. I said yes, delighted to oblige. We chatted and exchanged phone numbers. The taxi finally arrived and took me home. Amazingly, within an hour she called me to be certain I had arrived home safely.

One evening at Julia’s home for dinner, I asked her if I could take a picture of her container of bleach, as I had no idea what to look for when shopping. Within an hour, someone arrived at the door and she presented me with a container of bleach she ordered from the market. It was a gift for me until I could buy my own. I couldn’t get over her thoughtfulness.

Julia has become a good friend. We visit museums together, share meals, and have long talks. I tutor her son, who is 12, in English every Saturday. Her friend Maria asked if her son, who’s also 12, could also join the group. They’ve all been studying English for at least four years in school. Whenever they come for a lesson, they’re never empty-handed. They come with flowers, cookies, candies – no matter how many times I tell them it’s not necessary.

Nailya and I were shopping in the same gourmet market when she heard me struggling to understand the different cuts of meat. She helped me find what I wanted and explained many other things. Afterwards, we chatted, gave each other our brief bios and exchanged phone numbers. Nailya lives quite close to my apartment and enjoys refreshing her English with me. She worked for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs during the Soviet era. She also worked for major U.S. oil companies in Moscow, so we have much to discuss. She’s a great cook and has taught me many Russian recipes. She grows vegetables, berries, flowers, and herbs at her dacha and generously keeps me supplied. She always brings me something when she returns from the dacha. I also try to keep her supplied with special dishes I cook. It’s a Russian tradition to always bring something when you visit someone, and the host always sends the guest home with something special also.

Nailya and Julia are the first ones I call for advice. And now that I know my way around more, I also inform them of my new discoveries, from a delicious new olive oil to a new hairdresser, market, or dentist.

While sitting on a bench near the Bolshoi Theatre, I saw a very elegantly dressed woman in conversation with a young man, Yuri. She wore a coat made of fur that I’d never seen before. I asked if I could take her picture, so I could show it to my fashionista friends. She agreed and left shortly afterwards. Yuri then came over and introduced himself in perfect English. He wanted to know all about me, where was I from, what was I doing in Moscow, and so on. He then told me he was a bass-baritone at the Bolshoi. I was over the moon to hear that because I’m passionate about opera, so we talked about singers and operas for a long time. I was quite excited to receive a message from him a few weeks later inviting me as his guest to hear him sing the role of Figaro at the Bolshoi. He sometimes leaves me messages of him singing his favorite Frank Sinatra songs. He’s determined to perfect his American pronunciation, so I’m always on call to approve any audiobook he’s considering, as many aren’t spoken by Americans.