4

This month, I embraced the freedom to organize my days, especially weekends, the way I wanted. Saturday, I explored the art museum, discovered the Piazza Square, savored traditional Georgian cuisine, and even visited a Russian coffee shop. Sunday, I rented a bike and rode along the entire Batumi Promenade under the sun (25 km), reaching the port and looking at the city from a new perspective. We can’t control everything around us, but we can choose our attitude and decide whether to stay in bed dwelling on life’s injustices or go out, meet people, learn new things and have fun. That choice is always mine.

Buenos Aires has been very kind to me in the aspect of new encounters. Right after participating in the silent march, I went to the subway and heard a musician sing. I was in the moment and decided to ask her if we could sing a song from my favorite childhood movie Camp Rock. And we did it. And we didn’t care how cringy it was, we were just free and having fun, and people around were getting happier too. We exchanged our Instagrams and met to attend the open-house day (it’s a day when you can enter huge buildings like banks, corporates, chappels, cultural centers, etc. for free and see the stunning view from the observation deck). We walked through the entire city without taking a subway and I didn’t even notice that it was lot to walk . Marikena invited me to see the modern comedy based on Shakespeare at a local theater where her friends performs. El Teatro Luisa Vehil is under the threat of being shut down so it’s very important to save it. We laughed so hard during the play, and I will never forget how giddy I was on my way back.

I think I have another “If someone told me 6 months ago” story with a truly baffling continuation. How about hiking 8 days in a row, making 30k+ steps every day, living without service for 4 full days, or completing a circuit intended ONLY for highly fit and experienced hikers (which I’m certainly not)? Crazy for Anna, right? That was me for the past month.

Our epic Argentine trip together came to an end and I wanted to articulate at least half of the experience that revealed so much to me.

I can now testify that Argentina is the country I’ve seen the most and have had a chance to witness life outside of the capital. South of Argentina is beautiful in the way it is distinct from the European narrative of Buenos Aires. Although I loved showing my favorite spots in the city I now call home to my friends. I will never forget the balcony nights with squash and Russian sweet bar we shared at my new apartment in Buenos Aires. I had a hard time moving out all on my own, but my new apartment is now imbued with ever-lasting joy of shared memories.

Argentina’s nature is overpowering, arbitrarily reminiscent of home yet unique. It brings up and cherishes its native roots and customs. I could truly feel the meaning behind the phrase “somos todos familia en Argentina” when total strangers greeted each other as a sign of emotional support and helped me stitch up my wounded knee when I fell. Someone I met on the hike to Cerro Catedral in Bariloche described Argentina as “vamos mal pero vamos bien” and sitting under its flag, eating an empanada, listening to street musicians in pure blue serenity of a small town in Southern Patagonia I came to see feel this through. Even though the cities live off of tourism, you can tell that people here don’t chase tourist dollars. They work for the preservation of natural beauties and break the rules of traditional corporate business images. Terrain changes pretty quickly: 20km you’re amidst a desert, 40 km it’s a pine forest, go for more and you’ll reach mountains. Between the city of Esquel to El Chaltén (as well as between El Chaltén and El Calafate) there was absolutely nothing but the vastness of fields and rocky wilderness. I saw people passionately working/ volunteering at refugios far away from the city, I met a lady who gave us a bunch of figs and showed us the way to Río Azul when we got lost really bad and stepped on her property, I talked to representatives of indigenous communities who seriously contemplated going to war on the Russian side against Ukraine to get paid. Everyone I met along the way gave me a better perspective on how people really live here, good or bad it might be. My favorite Belarusian singer Max Korzh has a song called “Mountains are knee-high”. And they have been indeed “as long as you keep up the pace”.

There’s some comfort I will miss: the comfort of seeing Zane’s confident posture and black backpack with a Finnish flag, water ball and Cotopaxi fleece hanging loosely in front of me as I summon up the strength in my knees hurt by grueling fencing practices to take more steps; drinking tap, then hose, then river water, which, as Lizzy said, was hard and liberating at the same time; taking delight in occasional wild berries bushes we found in the forest; feeling my blood flow through my whole body after crossing the river by foot; exchanging our stories with fellow hikers and people who picked us up on the road; always being sure I will not die or starve because Owen knows the mountains like the back of his hand and cooks brilliantly. And I can’t say I didn’t get attached to the same hostel people I saw in the morning and feel a bit sad but needful to leave and go further south. I used to hate Februaries so much because during this month the worst things happened to my country: the war and Navalny’s assassination. Way before the trip was beginning to shape into something real, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to escape the February depression even in emigration, 13,500 km from Russia. But this February was different and it started as an adventure I craved for. Living abroad for quite a long time showed me how much I matured: booking tickets and hostels, optimizing my budget and calculating in advance, planning the itinerary, taking care of food, safety, and transportation, learning from more experienced travelers, navigating cultural differences and more.

It was April with its chill but promising wind bringing summer — the part of my body still remaining in the northern hemisphere felt it so strongly. But it was also the southern hemisphere August, the last summer month before the beginning of the fall here, the farewell sun kiss. I was still in touch with the anti-war community I’m leading in Buenos Aires almost every day, organizing events, sending messages, making announcements but if I had stayed in my new home for February, I would’ve let these thoughts take over. I needed to make 27-37k steps per day to be able to let my tired brain breathe and recover. And what I found even more beautiful is how our international friendship proved again that human connections are not defined by politics or relationships between countries. As we got to know locals or fellow travelers and told them we are from the US, Russia, Canada and how we met, people were stunned by the way we ended up together in the first place. The owner of the restaurant where we left our bags in Esquel for a day even made a joke about meeting in Alaska. And being able to say that we are friends and at peace with each other despite disagreeing on so many things means we are indeed smarter than many politicians. The core of a strong friendship to me is challenging each other while still finding a lot in common. And I want to keep this unprecedented connection as a precedent for my further development as a politician and a human being. I got to show what Russia is really about (Russian card game “Durak” in the tent was a very meaningful part of this journey LOL) and, to be completely honest, I turned a bit North American too on this trip — fell in love with peanut butter toasts and Columbia fleece jackets. Zane, the beautiful sight at the top of the trail, thank you for passing on your wise gift of stoic reaction to mustard explosion, hat loss, coffee glass break, or shoes full of mud (“at this point, I don’t even care anymore”), thank you for being the person I always felt I could lean on (literally too, those slippery descents were crazy). Owen, the miracle, thank you for finding the right words/ acts when I needed them and pushing the limits of what I thought was possible — every time I thought I wouldn’t make it I did (your cheerings in Russian during the Huemul Circuit went through my heart — by the way, your favorite one is spelled “Ochen’ silnaya” ), thank you for making me see there’s always more to go for and that when things crush, you become a Dalmatian. My heart is full of love for both of you, the time and places we shared. Thank you for never leaving me alone at the lowest of my breakdowns and for making me laugh genuinely so hard at sunrises and sunsets. Huemul Circuit took the hell out of me but I can see crystal clear now in which ways it made me stronger. TFS Launch Year for me is all about stretching myself in ways I would normally not choose for myself. I don’t want to only do things I’m good at or comfortable with. All in for the new and heart-pounding even if takes my breath and ground beneath my feet away like the descent on Day 3. I shall not forget I can make it.

I love being proven wrong. I love being pleasantly surprised. When we made it to Ushuaia, the end of the world, I was afraid I’d freeze to death here. I heard so many warnings about low temperatures and nasty weather. I also learned that fear is not a reason not to do something. I trusted that the sun would come out eventually. And it did. How much I loved the day at the National Park, how much it was filled with sun. I’ve come to recognize beauty in all types of weather and find comfort in scenic landscapes, and people I share them with. On our last day in Ushuaia, we went on the muddiest hike in Tierra del Fuego while it was still heavily raining. Even if there’s a very slim chance, I’ll always go all the way for it regardless. I contemplated luck and I can say now I have been lucky all along: doesn’t matter whether it was with hitchhiking 80km, not getting my backpack wet (it was not clipped to the cord as I ziplined across a mountain river), or direction of the wind at Paso del Viento, I started appreciating moments like this.

I still have a solo week in Santiago to go before I come back home and things get back on track. Couldn’t imagine myself saying that living in a far-away city could ever be called “back on track”. I’ve been battling the fear of missing out on news or my usual work, and I certainly gained more than I lost.

Patagonia is not for the faint of heart but for those who are ready to be challenged by it. And I truly hope I rose to the occasion.

An absolutely unforgettable holiday week in Montevideo🇺🇾. For me, traveling is not so much about the places you visit but about the people you meet and conversations you have. People from the United States, United Kingdom, Canada, Brazil, Switzerland, Argentina, Russia, Israel, Germany, Sweden, China, Greece and more are united under the never-fading sun of Uruguay. I always knew people who travel a lot have the most open minds due to the perspectives they expose themselves to. As a Russian person, I faced no prejudices and the people actually demonstrated such a high level of curiosity about my country and even love for my culture (Can you imagine that someone in Switzerland would be a fan of Russian-fake-Adidas- tracksuits-in-the-90’s aesthetic and would know so much about KGB???) Head over hills now. It was a two-way street though as well, and I learned so much about real life in all of these countries — from Brazilian expressions like “Bora bora”, experiences of the second gap year as a Swiss, data analysis to an Israeli perspective on the conflict with Palestine. 

I highly recommend Viajero Montevideo Hostel (they have more hostels in other cities too) is like a summer camp condensed into an antique picturesque building where you live with 9 other people in the room and look forward to seeing some familiar faces in the morning at the lobby. I fell in love with the openness of Latin American people again. Calling someone you’ve known for 1 day “bro” or “ma man/girl” would never happen in Russia or Switzerland (as I later found out from Lino who is on his second gap year and will be off to Zurich to study environmental engineering so we promised each other to meet soon!!). During the day we’d go explore the city and in the evening we took some drinks, my Brazilian friend Emmanuel and Swedish friend Ossian taught me to play pool. We celebrated the New Year at the rooftop with carne asado as a real family. We also watched the cheesiest Mexican drama “Como caído del cielo” in the movies room on the second floor. There were so many Brazilians in Montevideo for vacations and I learned so much about the Carnaval, music, dishes, stunning beaches, Brazilian Portuguese and their gestures.

If there’s something I learned for sure is that when you open up to people, people will open up to you. The city starts playing brighter colors when you walk or drive around it with someone very very special and talk about cultures endlessly without being afraid of sounding cringy.

I bought the ticket to Uruguay on one of the Black Fridays without directly knowing anybody there. If you know me well, you should be sure I don’t tend to regret things. It was one of the best New Years in my life, and I’m only 18 years old, the youngest in every company.

Easter is celebrated on Sunday but we’ve been celebrating since Friday. The Friday “Intercambio Cultural” went amazing! It was so heartwarming to see so many people exchanging their cultures with words and gestures. We had such a wonderful heated discussion about Pascuas and religion in Russia, Argentina, and Ukraine. And it was so healing to meet a Ukrainian person who distinguishes between putinists and peaceful Russians. He also shared that he hopes Ukrainians would one day be able to overcome hatred because it’s irrational to hate all people of one nation. We tried two Roscas de Pascuas — a traditional dish Argentinians eat during the Pascuas. Among the topics of discussion were: the influence of religion on the lives of people in Argentina and Russia, the celebration of Pascuas, funny stories that happened during the week, family traditions, change of attitude toward religion over time.

I miss my mom and my sister a bit. We used to host those funny egg tournaments. The egg that doesn’t break in a clash of two eggs wins. We would also always paint each egg and bake kulichi — which is an Easter cake in Orthodox culture. I’ve never been religious. I think religion is more like tradition in Russia. In Soviet Union, religion was banned. Now, it is being used as a political weapon. Most people do all those Easter activities, but haven’t read any of the saint books. That’s why I’m referring to it as a tradition, like a New Year celebration.

On Saturday, I participated in a religious procession for the first time in my life. Two Russian Orthodox churches in Buenos Aires expressed their anti-war position. Even though I’m not religious at all, I wanted to support Russian clergymen that had the courage to name things for what they are. And just in general, I realized that I love learning about things I don’t normally learn about. That’s why I think that “I’m not religious so I’m not going to go” is a very limiting way of living. We also released a post with the stories of 5 priests who didn’t sell their faith to the regime but acted against the war and violence, stayed true to Christ despite repressions and loss of their status.

Overall, it was a very nice experience. My friend Vanya, who is from a religious family, shared a lot of interesting facts about the holiday, and he even brought his friend from Brazil to the church. What I also found interesting is that the whole service was mostly in Russian but many Argentinians still attended. Orthodox churches have no benches, so I can’t imagine how people were able to stand until 4-5 am. We left at around 3 am and sat at the gas station talking about childhood experiences with religion. I was also very glad that the church was welcoming everyone, regardless of how they looked. I personally don’t have any dresses or skirts because I don’t wear them in general. But as a woman, you’d most likely be expected to wear one if you go to a church. But in this one, I saw many women wearing pants. When I was a kid, my mom brought us to a church and a priest berated us for not wearing a dress. That’s what probably threw me off churches.

After sleeping until 11 am after the midnight escapade, I went to Vicente López for Easter Family Fest. I can’t express how much love I hold for Russian festivals here. Buenos Aires managed to embody everything I love about my culture and my people. This festival was like an island of its own. Dacha: smoke of barbecue, newly cut grass, kids trampoline, friends at a big dining table, kulichi (Russian for an Easter pie, I bought one from my Belarusian friend btw!!), blini, and some drinks. I was hanging out with Andrey, Katya, and their son Kevin pretty much all day — they were so much fun!

It was also so crazy that 6-7 people approached me at the festival saying they saw me on social media and would like to partner up if possible. You can’t imagine how much it motivates me to keep going despite all the difficulties. And this is exactly why I started all of this: to support people who emigrated because of the war and opened their businesses in emigration. Danya and I are also working on a Telegram bot — a hub of services and food delivery by Russian-speaking people for everyone in BA. We invited a bunch of people to write a few words about what they sell so that we could add them to this database and promote their businesses.

This weekend was so special and it made me feel so at home. Easter is celebrated on Sunday but we’ve been celebrating since Friday. The Friday “Intercambio Cultural” went amazing! It was so heartwarming to see so many people exchanging their cultures with words and gestures. We had such a wonderful heated discussion about Pascuas and religion in Russia, Argentina, and Ukraine. And it was so healing to meet a Ukrainian person who distinguishes between putinists and peaceful Russians. He also shared that he hopes Ukrainians would one day be able to overcome hatred because it’s irrational to hate all people of one nation. We tried two Roscas de Pascuas — a traditional dish Argentinians eat during the Pascuas. Among the topics of discussion were: the influence of religion on the lives of people in Argentina and Russia, the celebration of Pascuas, funny stories that happened during the week, family traditions, change of attitude toward religion over time.

I miss my mom and my sister a bit. We used to host those funny egg tournaments. The egg that doesn’t break in a clash of two eggs wins. We would also always paint each egg and bake kulichi — which is an Easter cake in Orthodox culture. I’ve never been religious. I think religion is more like tradition in Russia. In Soviet Union, religion was banned. Now, it is being used as a political weapon. Most people do all those Easter activities, but haven’t read any of the saint books. That’s why I’m referring to it as a tradition, like a New Year celebration.

On Saturday, I participated in a religious procession for the first time in my life. Two Russian Orthodox churches in Buenos Aires expressed their anti-war position. Even though I’m not religious at all, I wanted to support Russian clergymen that had the courage to name things for what they are. And just in general, I realized that I love learning about things I don’t normally learn about. That’s why I think that “I’m not religious so I’m not going to go” is a very limiting way of living. We also released a post with the stories of 5 priests who didn’t sell their faith to the regime but acted against the war and violence, stayed true to Christ despite repressions and loss of their status.

Overall, it was a very nice experience. My friend Vanya, who is from a religious family, shared a lot of interesting facts about the holiday, and he even brought his friend from Brazil to the church. What I also found interesting is that the whole service was mostly in Russian but many Argentinians still attended. Orthodox churches have no benches, so I can’t imagine how people were able to stand until 4-5 am. We left at around 3 am and sat at the gas station talking about childhood experiences with religion. I was also very glad that the church was welcoming everyone, regardless of how they looked. I personally don’t have any dresses or skirts because I don’t wear them in general. But as a woman, you’d most likely be expected to wear one if you go to a church. But in this one, I saw many women wearing pants. When I was a kid, my mom brought us to a church and a priest berated us for not wearing a dress. That’s what probably threw me off churches.

After sleeping until 11 am after the midnight escapade, I went to Vicente López for Easter Family Fest. I can’t express how much love I hold for Russian festivals here. Buenos Aires managed to embody everything I love about my culture and my people. This festival was like an island of its own. Dacha: smoke of barbecue, newly cut grass, kids trampoline, friends at a big dining table, kulichi (Russian for an Easter pie, I bought one from my Belarusian friend btw!!), blini, and some drinks. I was hanging out with Andrey, Katya, and their son Kevin pretty much all day — they were so much fun!

It was also so crazy that 6-7 people approached me at the festival saying they saw me on social media and would like to partner up if possible. You can’t imagine how much it motivates me to keep going despite all the difficulties. And this is exactly why I started all of this: to support people who emigrated because of the war and opened their businesses in emigration. Danya and I are also working on a Telegram bot — a hub of services and food delivery by Russian-speaking people for everyone in BA. We invited a bunch of people to write a few words about what they sell so that we could add them to this database and promote their businesses.

This weekend was so special and it made me feel so at home.

The time from November 2nd to November 11th was incredible. The little informal moments of exploring Strasbourg with other delegates or asking questions during plenary sessions, labs and forum talks brought the experiences I longed for. I got to meet people from 60+ countries, spoke in front of hundreds of politicians way older than me, brought up the repressive legislation, political prisoners' cases, and propaganda mechanisms executed in Russia. I attended the following events:

Lab 2: Fighting fake news and disinformation to strengthen our freedoms

Forum Talk 6: Fighting Disinformation: Media at the Frontline

Lab 8: No room for hate – Let’s discuss together.

Forum Talk 13 – Press cartoons, an antidote to populism and a medicine for democracy? (was a discussant at the panel with other speakers)

It was so amazing to finally connect with people who are involved in politics in their local communities and internationally as well and learn from their experiences and perspectives on the Russia-Ukraine war. It’s so hard to say goodbye and transition back to the old normal life after something you’ve been working intensely for (I made the impossible possible by getting the documents people usually receive in months only in several weeks) finally happened and there’s this feeling of fulfilment mixed with an empty space held for something new I have to invent — it’s another quest for a new fueling purpose.

Meeting Mateo, another TFS fellow, in person was so refreshing and so different from connecting online. We kicked things off with a ride on Buenos Aires' historic 1897 tramway, rolling through the streets in an old wooden wagon. To our surprise, we discovered we’re both huge fans of Twenty One Pilots. As Scaled and Icy played in our headphones, and the city noise faded behind us, everything just clicked. Both Mateo and I are deeply invested in youth empowerment, so it was inspiring to hear about his work with UNICEF and the UN. That first day alone we took at least five buses — classic Buenos Aires chaos, and we loved it. Something Mateo said stuck with me: he admired my resilience. I had never called myself that. Never paused to reflect on it. But hearing it from someone I respect meant the world. It helped me see myself in a new light. What I admire about Mateo is how clearly he shows that your background or birthplace doesn’t define your future. With ideas, effort, and passion — you can get anywhere. Later, we grabbed ice cream from my favorite spot, and I introduced him to mate for the first time (can you believe there’s no mate in Ecuador?). A couple of days later, we moved into my new place together. Last time I moved, I did it alone. This time, I had support, it made a difference — reduced stress and made me laugh. We even hosted a Connect & Reflect on humanity, diversity, and activism. I’m grateful — for the conversations, the music, the movement, and the moments that remind me I’m not doing this journey alone.

I love the Russian community in BA. People from various cities across Russia gather to share their ups and downs of life as Xpats, traveling experiences, legalization in Argentina and find connections for work projects. It is beautiful how strong and collaborative this space is. Every Sunday we gather at Starbucks and attend cultural events like Aurora — the biggest festival of Russian emigrants in Argentina.

During the months I’ve been living in Buenos Aires, I’ve had so many fascinating conversations. I’m hanging out with people way older than me, bridging the gaps between generations and discussing the most important things like the end of war scenarios, family breakups based on the attitude to the war, history rewriting, legal challenges of living abroad as Russians and mixed families of Russians and Ukrainians. Many young couples came to Argentina to give birth to their child so that the child could have an Argentine passport and opportunities that come with it. Many came to escape mobilization and learned a new profession to sustain themselves. Many opened a restaurant business or legalize through courses at universities. And I also just love how in Argentina people from Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan can thrive peacefully together. I’m working on a digital hub of the most useful information I wish I had known before I came to live in Argentina which will help people who are completely new to the country to integrate more quickly and easily.

Isolation, the lack of strong civil societies under the threat of criminal charges - this is exactly the trend that the current government wants to consolidate. I would really like to develop the Argentine community of anti-war Russians, because it is important to me to connect with people and involve them in the political process. Argentina is a unique country where it is now quite easy for Russians to move with their entire families, which means that children and teenagers go through the difficulties of emigration and building a “new life”. Unfortunately, I have noticed a lack of initiatives aimed at supporting young people even among the Russian opposition, which only contributes to the paradigm of “my opinion doesn’t mean anything anyway” among young people. I would like to change this and create a youth branch in BA.

Now I work together with people much older than me to help emigrants who, like me once, feel disoriented and unmoored. In Buenos Aires, I work with local authorities to establish Libre Rusia ARG as an official NGO uniting Russian emigrants in Argentina. We provide immigration consultations, free Spanish lessons, find educational and cultural opportunities in the city and around the country, compare life in the capital with life in different parts of Argentina, organize anti-war demonstrations at the Russian embassy, political prisoners' evenings, educational events. We strive to expand and cooperate with anti-war associations in countries such as Italy, Portugal, France and Germany, among others.

In 2025, I plan to work on expanding our presence in the media by filming visual content, partnering with the Free Russia Foundation and joining the Anti-War Committee of Russia, as well as completing the process of becoming a local NGO. At the moment, most of the events are held in establishments owned by Russian emigrants, which allows us to also support their business, or in the apartments of volunteers. However, it would be great to rent a common independent space for offline meetings, where we could, among other things, brainstorm reforms and appeals to higher authorities, hold discussions. Among the planned activities, it is possible to show the “Motherland” exhibition offline, which is currently in the process of being created online, and to shoot a short documentary about life in exile, for which equipment is needed. That’s why I applied for funding at the Free Russia Foundation. During the Forum, I met many wonderful representatives of the School of Political Studies in Armenia and Georgia. I am currently thinking about how to create an affiliated School of Political Studies for every Russian who shares the same values of peace, democracy and human rights. The resources provided by the Free Russia Foundation would help me take a critical look at existing activities from the outside and understand how to spread the project around the world.

In 2024 first time in my entire life I celebrated Christmas! It was certainly the first and best one because I spent it with a big family of my Argentine friend Kevin whom i met randomly at one of the festivals I went to (he danced Bulgarian dances there with an ensemble there) He saw my story on Instagram where I said I had noo Christmas mood and was subject to pre-newyear depression and decided to invited me to spend two days at his country house in La Plata, which is a city in the Buenos Aires Province. The second question I get most frequently when people get to know me closer is “Was it hard to leave your family behind and start a life abroad alone?” I’m still figuring it out, and I don’t have a clear answer. As an 18-year-old abroad, I found the ground beneath my feet through the people I met along the way. People who showed me love and opened their doors to me. 

 Two days of learning Lunfardo resulted in proficiency in Argentine Spanish because now I use “copado,” “joya”  y “che” in random conversations I have with locals. 

The table brimming with delicious food, about 20 family members are sitting all around, chatting very loudly which to a stranger might seem like fighting but it’s joking. Me having my 4th glass of Sangría, trying the delicacies I didn’t have the audacity to try before, comparing life in Argentina with Russia. I almost cried when the family members asked me to enter the house the first and open the presents from Papa Noel. I got a regalito too, a beautiful necklace that I won’t part with from now on. I didn’t expect to receive a gift but they did prepare it for me. 

Seeing such strong ties between so many people, sticking together no matter what, sharing mate while sitting outside under the sun — I fell in love with the family culture in Argentina and I will never forget these two days I spent in La Plata.

Home is people.