Bohemienne

[tangofiction]

It's been a while since I've had a good rant at the expense of nobody in particular. Time to let off some steam.



The victims this time are the people profiled in articles like this one (in Russian). Briefly: Russian ex-pats are returning to Russia in droves, supposedly after becoming disillusioned with the West.



No doubt, this happens. From what I've seen, the "returnees" are mostly people who left Moscow or St Petersburg in the last decade. No doubt, some are unhappy and unable to adjust, and long for the comfortable, familiar environment. Nobody could fault them for this.



But the most important point that everyone seems to miss is that these are people who were moving to and not moving from.

A rant, and some unashamedly self-indulgent diarism

They never even wanted to leave, but they had some half-baked notions about freedom and opportunities and the pot of gold that lay at the end of the rainbow. They expected a foreign country to welcome them with open arms, to love them as children and provide everything their hearts could desire. Having emigrated, they discovered that every country has its problems. What a surprise! What a revelation! Behold, the scales have fallen from their eyes!



Get real, people. The only reason to voluntarily leave a country is not in search of something better, but when you can't and don't want to live there any longer. This is why they finally left the US and returned to Russia -- and this is why they are happy in Russia. Not because, as one of the charming gentlemen in the article says, the girls wear more make-up in Russia, the people are smarter and life is more civilised. But quite simply, because they were "moving FROM" and not "moving TO".



I'm happy in Australia. I do not hate Russia, but nor am I into misty-eyed reminiscing about made-up girls and civilised birch trees. There were things that I loved about it, and there are things I miss, and that is normal. I've met people in Australia who feel just as keenly about the town where they were born and are miserable in Sydney, for example. Nostalgia is inevitable when you leave a familiar environment. It would be a lie to say that emigration was easy. How could it be easy? I was young, I barely spoke two words in English, my family had no money -- the story is old and not interesting to anyone who hasn't lived it. But the thing is, I wanted to leave Russia. I did not want to grow up there, I didn't even want to imagine it.



It always puzzles me when I'm asked (usually by fellow Russian emigrants) whether I feel Russian or Australian. The answer is, both, neither, both... I don't know. Russian-Jewish-Australian? Everyone has their niche, and mine is at once more narrow and more broad than most. I am who I am, living where I live, and I am happy.



...And for the record, I am another of those Westernised girls in jeans and without make-up that the Russian guy in the article was complaining about. And I love every minute of it.

@музыка: Bohemienne - Notre Dame

@настроение: mellow

Comments

[Долли Обломская]

Yep.



(А статья тенденциозная до омерзения (та часть, что одолела). Напоминает советские репортажи.))

[tangofiction]

Напоминает советские репортажи.))

Yes, exactly. And the gloating tone - it's like "ha, we knew they'd come crawling back!" And of course the guys themselves. No wonder no girls would date them!