Theater Culture in Russia

On March 27 was the World Theater Day.  From early childhood, I love theaters. In past, I lived in front of theater and always watched crowds and actors to go in and from work and went to almost every play. I also played in school theater (of course-who doesn’t).Theater is a big part of Russian culture, and I really miss it in the United States. Of course, if you are in New York or San-Francisco, you probably will have enough to feed your theatric curiosity, but not everywhere in the US. When I go to St. Petersburg during summer, on the second day after arrival I run to Continue reading “Theater Culture in Russia”


Good news from Russia

Here is some good news. I understand that in the ocean of problems our world is experiencing right now, this is just a tiny drop, small sip, but still – good news is a good news.  Have you ever thought that a little dog can be brave enough to fight with a bear? I am sure neither dog, nor his owners would expect that, but our pets can sometimes surprise us in unusual way. I bet Mark Twain knew that when he said “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”

What does US Customs want?

My son and I went to Russia for the summer and just recently came back

… Anticipating nostalgia already, I left behind St. Petersburg’s white nights, hasty packing, taxi to Pulkovo, a familiar for me thought, “It seems we are late for the plane,” transfer in Paris, movies on the plane where you almost can’t hear anything … airplane food in dense foil, customs declaration stating that I do not bring to America  drugs, a lot of money, or bacteria …

So, we landed at the new Atlanta International Terminal, and after we passed the border, on the way to the exit door I approached a customs officer with a naive question “to whom shall I give the customs declaration”. The officer, without any hesitation called me out of the crowd for “Nothing to Declare”, gave a special voucher and sent me (with two huge suitcases and a child) back to the customs clearance. I was cursing at myself for my stupidity and extra questions having such an obvious Russian accent… So, we came to the customs and an officer, a big, serious, guy with squared shoulders, looked at me straight in the eyes and accusingly asked if I had brought any food from Russia.  I certainly had. In my suitcase were smoked fish in a vacuum packet, which my husband loves so much, and caviar; Bordeaux and pate from the Paris Duty Free.  I felt very reluctant to give it all to customs; however I didn’t want any problems.  I stood and thought about the best way to handle the situation with a minimum loss. The officer patiently repeated his question whether I am bringing any food from Russia. «What do you mean? “, I asked, buying time by playing stupid as though I did not realize what Americans consider to be a food (and secretly hoping that fish and caviar is not)  «I have wine and pate from France Duty Free»-I finally squeezed the answer out of myself. Continue reading “What does US Customs want?”

This Blog is About

People meet, fall in love and marry.  Of course, it’s not that simple, but if we pretend that life is a movie, that we keep the remote in our hands and can forward from the beginning, it looks like that.  As teenagers we hoped to meet a friend, a soul mate and a great love (of course).  We could dream about how that person would look, what kind of personality he/she would have, probably even about his profession.  But usually we do not have a thought of the nationality of our future spouse. It all comes later.  It all comes after you meet, fall in love and say “I Do” with an accent.

To marry a foreigner can be very exciting and interesting. You always find something new with which to be surprised or irritated.  Every day, day after day… How to deal with and enjoy different languages; culture; attitude to family, friends; different points of view on raising kids, planning vacations; cooking; sad and funny misunderstandings; communication with in-laws ?

This blog is for anyone who dated or married a foreigner, who lives in a foreign country with an accent, raises bilingual kids, trying to adjust and understand.

I am a Russian who married an American man.  We met at a Halloween party in the US 12 years ago, and after two years got married in San Francisco. We later moved to Russia and lived there for almost eight years. We worked, rented a tiny apartment in Moscow and raised our two kids (my daughter from first marriage and a son).  After almost 8 years, my husband got tired of Moscow, and he asked me and the kids to move back to America. He simply got tired of being a foreigner.  He wanted to have a normal job, speak his language, be able to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with his family and he wanted to exchange our extremely small apartment in Moscow for a two-story house. And he especially wanted to forget all about Moscow’s long, cold winters.  Well, I knew he had a right to wish all of this.  He was patient enough all these years and it came my turn to pay him back. My husband and I and our two kids, moved from huge and exciting Moscow to the quiet and sunny suburbs of Atlanta. It became my turn to be a foreigner.  What to do? In an international marriage one of the two will live abroad.

Here, in this blog, I share about my first and second year immigrant experiences, pitfalls and plateaus of cultural shock, and my hopes. I still try to find my way through Southern living with no driving skills and a strong attachment to my homeland.  Since childhood I liked to write essays and poetry but only in Russian.  When we moved to the US, along with homesickness, I got some free time to do what I always wanted to do.  I joined the Atlanta Writers Club and trying to write in English, but still with a Russian accent.

I never had a blog before. I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes I make in my writing.  It is not due to carelessness or absence of respect, it is simply because I learned English quite late in life, and, probably, I will always speak, write and live with an accent.

Thank you for reading,