Immigration with a child: Spanish experience and practical p. Should we let the child know about the reasons for our emigration and what, in general, should I tell him about his homeland? Retreat of the Don Corps

Memories of immigrant children about what they saw during civil war in Russia.

In 1925, the collection "Children of Emigration" was published in Prague. It was preceded by two small books:
1. "Memoirs of 500 Russian Children" (With a preface by Prof. V.V. Zenkovsky. - Prague, 1924);
2. "Memoirs of refugee children from Russia" (Edited by S. Kartsevsky. - Prague, 1924);
These books were the result of a study carried out in a gymnasium in the Czech town of Moravska Trebova, located on the border with Germany. The children of Russian emigrants who left Russia after the revolution studied at the gymnasium.

On December 12, 1923, at the initiative of the former director of this gymnasium, A.P. Petrov, quite unexpectedly for both the students and the teaching staff, two adjacent lessons were canceled and the students were offered: not embarrassed by the shape, size, etc. and without receiving any instructions from them, write an essay on the topic: “ My memories from 1917 to the day I entered the gymnasium". The resulting material was examined by the teacher of this gymnasium V.M. Levitsky, and the presentation of the survey was published in the Bulletin of the Pedagogical Bureau, and also published as a separate brochure (“Memoirs of 500 Russian Children”).
Subsequently, a similar survey was carried out at once in several foreign schools For Russians. By March 1, 1925, 2403 essays (about 6500 pages) had accumulated.
In the time interval between the publication of Levitsky's essay and the production of the work by the teacher of the Russian real gymnasium in Prague, S.I. Kartsevsky independently examined the material of the children's essays of this gymnasium, and the result of the examination was published in the journal Russian School Abroad, and was also published by the Pedagogical Bureau in a separate brochure ("Memoirs of Refugee Children from Russia").

These writings are the source, which is processed in the book "Children of Emigration" (1925). Unfortunately, except for a single case, there is no information about how the fate of these children developed in the future.

The works belong to students of 15 Russian emigrant schools: 2 from Turkey, 1 from Bulgaria, 10 from Yugoslavia and 2 from Czechoslovakia. Of these, 9 mixed, 4 male and 2 female.
The authors of the compositions: 1603 boys, 781 girls and 19 children whose gender remained unclear.

Reading heavy maybe impressionable people shouldn't read this.
Under the cut, only quotes.

February:

The director took a telegram out of his pocket and began to read slowly. There was deathly silence: “Nicholas II abdicated the throne,” he read almost audibly, and then the old man could not stand it, tears one after another, the tears of a soldier rolled from his eyes ... “What will happen now?” We dispersed into classes, sat down at our desks, quietly, sedately, there was such an impression that there was a dead person in the house. In our children's heads, the idea that we would no longer have a Tsar could not be combined in any way.

“After the abdication of the Sovereign, all my future life seemed so gray and aimless to me that when the corps was disbanded, I did not regret it at all.

“We were forced to swear allegiance to the Provisional Government, but I refused. There was a whole scandal. I was asked why I didn't want to take the oath. I replied that I did not swear allegiance to the Sovereign, whom I knew, and now I am being forced to swear allegiance to people whom I do not know. He (the director) read me a notation, shook hands and said: “I respect you!”.

“Soldiers drowning in alcohol tanks, rallies, seeds, red bows, a torn look.”

“The whole Tverskaya was adorned with bits of sunflower seeds.”

“I remember how the cadets ran in groups from the corps to the front, how they were caught, brought back and put in a punishment cell.”

October:

“In the evening, the Bolsheviks placed guns against our corps and began shelling the corps and the school. Our squad gathered in the classroom, we fenced off the far corner blackboards thinking that they will protect us. To make time pass faster, we told various stories, everyone tried to appear calm; some did not succeed and, hiding in the corners so that no one could see, they cried.
“When they brought us to the fortress and put us in a row to swear allegiance to the Bolsheviks, the sailor came up to me and asked how old I was? I said "nine", to which he cursed like a sailor and hit me in the face with his fist; what happened next, I don’t remember, because. after the impact, I fainted. I woke up when the cadets were coming out of the gate. I was confused and wanted to cry. In the place where the junkers stood, the dead were lying and some worker was pulling off his boots. Without looking back I rushed to the gate, where they hit me in the back with a rifle butt.

“Bluish and swollen little corpses (cadets) were caught in the ditches.”

“The colonel met me, and I saluted him. He said: “I am an old colonel, I was brave, I tell you in all honesty, so that you take off your shoulder straps, do not risk your life ... Cadets are needed.”

“The Emperor has been killed. I ignored this news. How can the Emperor be killed! Is there such a person who will raise his hand against the Emperor?

Retreat of the Don Corps:

“... The Bolsheviks were 40 miles away. We junior cadets were excited. Many had a plan to run to the front. The day of December 22 was leaning toward evening, when we were told that at 8 o'clock in the evening the corps would set out from the city. A parting prayer service was served half an hour before departure. And now I vividly imagine our small cozy cadet church, in the twilight of which the cadets pray for the last time. After the prayer service, a command was given to line up in hundreds, where the commander of the hundred said a few words ... The commander, who was looking at the cadet boys standing with lowered heads, had tears in his eyes. It was evident ... that he sincerely felt sorry for us. Finally, having crossed ourselves on the Cadet centenary icon, picking up our bags, we quietly began to leave the building. This procession... was like a funeral procession. Everyone was silent ... At about 9 pm we left the city ... we were overtaken by wagon trains ... riders announcing ... that the front was not far away, that the Bolsheviks could overtake us ... we were briskly stepping along the road with rifles over our shoulders .. ... among us were weak ... we encouraged, relieved them, helped to carry things. There was a lot of inspiration.”

Hunger:

“They began to eat human meat and there were often cases that traps were set up on the streets ... they caught people ... they made food out of them and sold them in the bazaars.”

Death of relatives:

“Then in the evening my dad was called and killed. My mother and I cried a lot. Then, a few days later, my mother fell ill and died. I cried a lot." A student of the preparatory class writes: “I remember how the Bolsheviks came and wanted to kill my mother, because my father was a naval officer.”

“I already said goodbye to my dad forever, I knew that he would face an inevitable death with torment and torture.”

“Some terrible people broke in, not at all like people, armed with anything, grabbed dad and took him away, throwing us only that he would be hanged before 8 o’clock.”

“We were searched and they wanted to kill my grandmother, but they didn’t kill her, but only wounded her with a revolver handle.”

“And the terrible memorable days. At night, lying in bed, you listen terribly in silence. Here is the sound of a car. And the heart shrinks and beats like a caught bird in the chest. This car brings death... So my uncle died, so many of my relatives and friends died.”

“This time, both dad and mom were arrested, I went to my mom in prison. My nanny and I stood near the prison for several hours. Finally it was our turn, my mother was behind bars. I did not recognize my mother: she had completely turned gray and turned into an old woman. She rushed to me and tried to hug me. But the grate was in the way, she tried to break it; the Bolsheviks stood around us and laughed.
I wiped away my tears, began to reassure my mother and pointed to the Bolsheviks. Mom saw their laughing faces and, quickly saying goodbye, she herself left. After that date, I no longer wanted to go. I did not want the Bolsheviks to laugh at our grief.”

Shootings and atrocities:

“The sailors went berserk and terribly tortured the last officers. I myself witnessed one execution: they brought in three officers, most likely midshipmen; one of them was killed on the spot, some sailor shot another in the face, and this one was left without an eye and begged to finish it off, but the sailor only laughed and hit him in the stomach with a butt, occasionally stabbing in the stomach. The third was cut open in the stomach and tortured until he died.”

“Several Bolsheviks beat the officer with anything: one beat him with a bayonet, another with a gun, a third with a log, finally, the officer fell to the ground in exhaustion, and they ... enraged, like animals at the sight of blood, began to trample him with their feet.”

“I remember the cruel massacre of the Bolsheviks with the officers of the Varnavinsky regiment in Novorossiysk. This regiment was returning from the front to go home, and had to leave Novorossiysk by steamer. The Bolsheviks demanded from the soldiers of this regiment that they give them their officers. The soldiers at first did not agree, but then they gave them away, as the Bolsheviks threatened them that they would not let them out of the city. At night, the officers were tied to the legs of the core and thrown from the pier into the water. After a while, the corpses began to float up and tossed ashore in waves. Walking along the embankment, I caught a glimpse of them several times. A terribly painful memory remained later. After that, no one bought fish for a long time, as fingers of corpses began to fall into them.”

“I quickly ran to the window and saw how the angry mob was beating the old colonel; she tore off his shoulder straps and cockade and spat in his face. I could no longer look and moved away from the window, but I could not forget those brutal faces of the crowd. But after several hours of long and painful waiting, I went to the window and saw such a terrible picture that I will not forget to death: this old colonel was lying hacked to pieces. I have seen many such cases, but I am not able to describe them.

“Here is a woman with a cry of despair trying to get into a moving train, with a wild laugh, a soldier pushed her away, with a red star of the devil, and she rolled under the wheels of the train ... The crowd gasped.”

“We had shootings three times a week: on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday, and in the morning, when we went to the market to sell things, we saw a huge strip of blood on the pavement, which the dogs licked.”

Emergency:

"I got acquainted with the Chechens - how many corpses and it is not known for what."

“They opened the emergency room, it smelled so good that you could hear it on other streets.”

“The doctor’s house was requisitioned for an emergency commission, where they were shot, and so that the shots were not heard, music played.”

“Volunteers took Kyiv, and grandfather went with me to the emergency room, a well was dug for blood, hair hung on the walls, at night I couldn’t sleep, then I dreamed about the emergency room, then that they were shooting.”

“I went to look into the basement of the emergency room and what I saw there made me jump back out. The entire floor was covered in blood, and several corpses lay reclining on it. One of them had a face like a sieve.”

“I remember one incident very clearly: when the emergency commission was transferred to another room and we could come to see our people, after the meeting, when everyone was taken away, the Chekists came and began to drag out the terrible blue-colored corpses from the yard and cut them into pieces in front of all the passers-by. parts, then with shovels, like rubbish, thrown onto the cart and all this rubbish of human bodies, these bloody pieces of meat, individual parts of the body, dangling and bouncing, were taken away by the indifferent Chinese, like just collected rubbish from the yard; the impression was amazing, blood oozed from the cart and two frozen eyes of a severed head looked out of the holes in the boards, a woman's hand stuck out of another hole and, with every push, began to wave its brush. In the yard after this operation, there were pieces of skin, blood, bones, and all this was very calmly taken by some woman, taking a broom, swept it into one heap and carried it away.

War and revenge:

“And in August 1919, commissars fell into our hands. 3/4 of our detachment consisted of cadets, students and high school students ... We were all ashamed to go to shoot ... Then our commander cast lots, and I, among the 12, fell to be the killer. Something broke in my chest ... Yes, I participated in the execution of four commissars, and when one unfinished man began to suffer, I shot him in the temple with a carbine. I also remember that I put my finger in his wound and sniffed his brain ... There was some kind of battle. In the middle of the battle, I lost consciousness and came to my senses on a convoy wagon: I had a fever. I had nightmares and felt blood. I dreamed about the corpses of commissars... I became forever nervous, I see the eyes of my commissar in the dark, and yet 4 years have passed... Years have passed. Much has been forgotten; by force of will, I banished the vices that had taken root in my soul - theft, drunkenness, debauchery ... And who will remove the blood from me? I'm scared sometimes at night."

“Anger against the Bolshevik killers and destroyers flared up with immense force; revenge boiled in the blood. I decided to enroll in a volunteer detachment and entered. One thought occupied me - to send as many "freedom fighters" as I hated. With trepidation I pressed the rifle to my shoulder and rejoiced when I saw that the “freedom fighter” with a groan, which seemed to me pleasant music, breathed his last.”

“Two commissars ran into our yard and, throwing down their weapons, asked them to hide them in the cellar from the Cossacks who had entered the city. I pointed to the cellar and thought: "They will come ... I will betray you." The thirst for revenge took over, and I could not calm down ... I ran up to the soldiers ... told them about ... the commissars ... They were arrested and taken away.

“There is nothing left of the good past. Got it for the death of older brothers, for the desecration of the family and the motherland - only revenge and love for the motherland, which was not erased during the first retreat, the second retreat to the Crimea, the flight from the Crimea, and during the three years of life in Yugoslavia, but on the contrary, everything grows, growing, growing...”

“I console myself with the thought that someday I will avenge Russia and the Sovereign, and the Russians, and my mother, and everything that was so dear to me.”

“I will take revenge on all those who desecrated their homeland. It will be a terrible revenge."

“I’m just waiting for an opportunity to ... go and beat everyone who spat on, desecrated their homeland.”

“I managed to get into the county guard, where I was able to satisfy up to to some extent my sense of revenge.

“I vowed to somehow take revenge on this red bastard, which, of course, I did.”

Brief conclusions and observations:

“When we passed the coast of Italy, the Germans saluted us.”
“They called this house crazy because there were a lot of children living there.”
“When I was driving, I had a lot of fun. Dad fell ill on the way and we were robbed.”
“Once a shell hit our apartment, there was a terrible commotion, because. we are not yet accustomed to such cases.”
“The train was called Maxim Gorky, and indeed we went slowly.”
“In Constantinople, I boarded the Austria and went to Serbia and hope to return to Russia in due course.”
“One boy was asked: “Are you a communist?” - to which he replied: "No, I'm Orthodox."
“We drove in tight quarters and offended.”
“A lot of counter-revolutionary things were found, that is, teaspoons, mother's rings, etc.”
“The gold watch my dad left me was mistaken for a weapon.”
“And they robbed with mandates and without mandates.”
"They were reptiles, soaked in blood, who knew nothing of the human."
“I began to feel hatred for the Bolsheviks, and especially for the sailors, for these arrogant faces with open necks and animal eyes.”
“Often came across green, i.e. deserters."
“Our train was stopped by the green ones, i.e. brigands who lived in the mountains and attacked the train and passing pedestrians.”
“I went into the room and saw that some people were lying and shooting; they called themselves green; I did not understand what kind of people they were - the next day they were red.
“The so-called days of the poor soon began, it was from everyone that they took away linen and things.”
“I remember the evil commissars who called each other comrades.”
“Mom couldn’t come to me because the Bolsheviks were rowdy.”
“We have a state of emergency and various Bolshevik inventions.”
“At that time there was a strong famine and every person prayed to God to live his life to the end.”
“Everyone became rude, embittered and hungry.”
“A painful time has come when everyone is taken away, and you don’t know yourself, maybe they will take you too.”
“From Russia, as from a leaky barrel, more and more reds poured in.”
“I left Russia for the following reasons: when our enemies began to disturb us, we were forced to leave from there to another city.”
"The commissioner said that the passport of our Hungarian subjects, and that he has no right to crack down on us."
"About it terrible year I have vague memories, tk. I was still quite small, but still I remember him, I remember something red around.
“They started doing something with the tsar and releasing the convicts... They took dad to prison because of some papers and took a lot of things.”
"These were the Bolsheviks, who soon occupied our native land."
“And we lived very well, but then a misfortune happened - the Bolsheviks came and plundered all Russian possessions.”
"The Bolsheviks took more and more Russian land."
“I realized that under the Bolsheviks, as they called themselves, it would not be good for us Russians.”
“I asked my mother: why is this all, will our homeland be inhabited by others? But the mother only silently nodded her head.
“I bought myself a red ribbon and hung it over my bed, but then, when I found out what it was, I cursed myself for having bought this lousy ribbon.”
“At first I thought that everything was being done for the better, but then things got worse, and I realized what a revolution is.”
“The revolution has begun. Despite being ten years old, I immediately knew it was over.”
“I remember the cry of one old woman addressed to them: “Damned! Look, they put on red rags, and you will flood Russia with blood, how you decorate yourself with bows.” And it went on like that.”
“They gathered people and said that everyone would be equal among themselves, and that they would help the poor, and that everyone would be comrades. But everything turned out the other way around. Starvation, oppression, murder.”
“My dad was a colonel, grandfather was a general, and so we couldn’t stay anymore.”
“I saw wounded officers who had just returned from the front and found their end in their homeland.”
“When I went to bed, I forgot to pray to God, and that night my dad was killed.”
“Searchs and executions began again, walking along the street, one could feel the smell of decay, which the Bolsheviks always bring with them.”
“For some reason, I was sure that we would not return back soon, because it was very difficult to leave Russia.”
“Famine, pestilence and disease visited Russia, she became thin, pale, a ragged beggar, and many left her with tears in her eyes. Both the rich and the poor fled from her.”
“The Motherland accompanied me with bayonets, firing. Farewell, sick Mother!”.
“Finally, a stone fell on Russia and crushed it.”
“Humanity does not understand, perhaps it cannot, perhaps it does not want to understand the bloody drama played out in the homeland ... If it could endure at least a particle of what every Russian has experienced and felt, then to groans, to the call of those remaining in a vice executioners, would answer with a unanimous cry against the inhuman suffering of unfortunate people.
“The war began and the toys were forever forgotten, forever, because I never took them in my hands again: I played with guns, checkers, rapiers and daggers of my father - I had no other amusements.”
“They completely robbed our dacha, and they shot me and my mother, but fortunately both my mother and I turned out to be only wounded, and when the greens were knocked out the next day, we were taken to the infirmary.”
“The moral life during these years was terrible. I lived and felt as if I was living in a foreign country.”
“To feel that you are a stranger in your homeland is the worst thing in the world.”

PART 3

In this article, I present some of the most significant differences in the systems of socialization of children of emigrants from Russia, based on the fact that the main agents of socialization are the school, peers, and, of course, the family.
BUT) School
The Soviet tradition of education assumed the complete usurpation of the functions of education and upbringing, freeing our parents as much as possible from caring for children for labor exploits. They only had to feed and clothe their children. We had the most developed and accessible system of post-school upbringing and education. Mothers could send their children to sports clubs, drama circles, dance halls and art studios. In addition, grandmothers were waiting for their grandchildren at home. Having done research in Europe and the US, I can confidently say that our children have been the most well-educated and cared for in the world.
In France, schools take responsibility for the quality of teaching, but everything that concerns the upbringing of the personality of the child, this responsibility has traditionally been given to parents. French fathers and mothers must bring the child to school, pick him up from school, organize his leisure time. It is considered bad form if children walk on the street without parental supervision.
But American parents have the hardest time. If their children do not study well, then this is their fault and oversight. Moreover, the system of public education is arranged in such a way that without active initiative on the part of parents, children simply cannot be pulled out. American school works like a complex factory, where each child moves according to his own plan. Shuttle between teachers, classes, moving on floors, children get lost, forget textbooks. They may mistakenly get into the wrong course and then listen to a course in which they do not understand anything for three months. There is no continuity between courses and classes. If the child missed something, then he will no longer be able to catch up with his peers. In addition, parents are expected to work as volunteers (volunteers) for the weekend, help clean windows, check homework, just play with children.
Bringing their children to such a school, emigrants from the former Soviet Union are shocked. Not only are their children not taught (which is how they evaluate the quality and level of education in the United States), but they are now called to school twice a week and informed on an answering machine about each child being late for a lesson.
Now, when our education system seems to be undergoing revolutions, I would like to warn you: only a commensurate distribution of responsibility for the upbringing and education of children between the school and the family gives good results. Expensive private schools, which are accepted in Russia according to the criterion of solvency of parents, give the same high percent drug addiction and deviations, as well as the environment of homeless children, because snobby parents also spend little time with their children, just like alcoholic parents. This is such a secured homelessness. Western private schools conduct a rigorous selection of both children and parents, testing their social motivation.
If an emigrant family has enough resources to reorient itself to new learning conditions, then their children study well. But, unfortunately, there are many cases of "falling out" of children from school process, neglect.

AT) peers.
Children who came with their parents to the United States already at a conscious age, especially if they managed to study in Russian schools, complain that their American peers do not know how to make friends and do not like each other. Here they are absolutely in solidarity with the children of our emigrants in France. The emotional distance between our children in our school is very small. Most often, they study in the same class for all ten years, and then perceive each other as brothers and sisters. Our children not only go to school together, but are friends after school, celebrate birthdays together, and usually know a lot of personal details about each other. Children from Russia are wild when yesterday's fellow students only nod to each other when they meet, and do not rush to each other with hugs.
In our teams, starting from the school bench, very important, I would say, dominant, are informal relationships, relationships of love, sympathy, dependence. This informal structure dominates formal, business relationships. It is she who influences the formation of the identity of children. Without hidden collective emotional support, children (and adults too) feel confused, anxious, depressed.
Another shocking factor for our children is the lack of discipline in the classroom. Relationships in traditional Soviet school are hierarchical, involve rather rigid relationships of subordination, and teachers, head teachers, directors are endowed with unconditional authority. Relationships between children and teachers in Western schools more free. In France, the authority of a teacher is determined by his competence, and in the USA - by his friendly attitude towards children.
Why are we so educated, smart and unhappy? This question haunts when you see the obvious advantages of our school education and the effort we put into our children. Firstly, Western schools have more responsibility and opportunities real choice is delegated to the family and the child, which ultimately helps to form an adult, responsible person who is not afraid of uncertainty and life changes. In the conditions of the Soviet tradition of education, all the resources of the child's personality are rushed to education, to the training of the intellect.
In addition, in the Western tradition, much more time is devoted to liberal education - literature, languages, history. Knowledge about a person and society helps children navigate in a variety of social situations.
Finally, according to experts, higher education in Western countries more effectively than ours, Soviet and post-Soviet. Thus, if the development curve of a Western child goes up, on the rise, then the development curve of a child from Russia goes up sharply, right up to graduation from school, passing sometimes cruel entrance exams and then starts to decrease. The fracture occurs after the second course.

WITH) Family.
Comparison of family models is very important both for assessing and comparing the developmental situations in which Russian, American and French children find themselves, and in order to understand what problems our compatriots who enter into intercultural marriages face.

The main reason for female emigration now, I would call the crisis of the domestic model of the family. If the first emigrants from Russia in the late eighties were guided mainly by economic motives, then today's emigrants are looking for a higher quality of relationships in another culture. Young girls have not yet been disappointed in the family as such, but the way they lived or their parents lived definitely does not suit them. Their willingness to “stay at home and not work” when they get married is also embarrassing. The experience of intercultural marriages does not yet allow us to consider their recipe for unconditional happiness.
First of all, because family models in Catholic France, Protestant America and Orthodox Russia contrast.

Our family, according to the definition of Russian psychologist Vladimir Druzhinin, is a crazy mixture of Orthodoxy and paganism. A man with this model has incredible power and authority, but he delegates all responsibility for the family to his wife, mother. His main role is to initiate a family, and he is no longer interested in family chores. Relationships in the family resemble a fight that is won by the psychologically or physically strongest. No agreements are in effect here, everything is resolved through the breaking of pots.
But this model was also deformed as a result of the fact that in wars and military conflicts we simply physically lost huge male populations. In the model of our family, the figure of the father was lost, and a new generation of young men had to take the place of a child. No wonder they talk about the infantilism of our men. At one time, this phenomenon was very accurately described by Irina Grekova in her “Ship of Widows”. In such a disharmonious model, a woman is destined for either the role of an unfortunate, submissive victim, or the role of a heroine who will replace both the father and mother for the children, if the husband is physically or symbolically absent.
This family model persisted in Soviet times due to the fact that the system of post-school education and upbringing was developed, and overworked women, who had to keep up both at home and at work, had someone to transfer their children to, redirect part of their responsibility for the family.
Perestroika became critical point tension in the patience and humility of the Russian woman. The burden was exorbitant, poverty was real, and they began to look for other ways. Consequence of the crisis domestic model families, there was also a wave of divorces, surpassing both American and French indicators, and increasing female emigration, and social orphanhood, when not only husbands, but also children are abandoned.

A normal family after Margaret Mead V.N. Druzhinin calls the family "according to the Catholic type": in it, power and responsibility are distributed between husband and wife, but the main responsibility for the family lies with the husband as socially more accepted and physically stronger. Both the children and the wife are in equal emotional closeness to both the father and the mother; on the whole, the family is built according to the child-centric type. The basis of the Catholic model is the principle of harmony, balance, which came from antiquity, ascended in the Renaissance.
The American model of the family is labeled Protestant; it is characterized by balancing power and responsibility, now in favor of the father, then in favor of the mother. Partnership relations, parity. There is competition among family members. The child grows up as a potentially equal adult. The expression of positive emotions is encouraged, it is not customary to complain.
For the Orthodox consciousness, the basic norm is the utmost concentration and inner concentration. It is ironically tuned in relation to the external pose, indifferent to comfort. Moreover, bodily satisfaction seems to be the main obstacle to spiritual clarity and openness. Orthodoxy is characterized by internal tension on the verge of death and decay. Anguish, as Dostoevsky said. At the same time, the Orthodox tradition has a charisma that is not found in any other religious tradition. It actually removes all boundaries in the emotional self-expression of a person, up to his death or complete dissolution in another, or in God. I repeat: such realizations are for psychologically strong and hardy people, whose images can make a strong impression and worship of others. But I would not replicate it as the norm.
By the way, the unbridled emotionality of our women has a rather strong impact. But something else is interesting: after the collapse of marriages with Russian women, after the slaughter of divorce proceedings and a string of sessions with psychoanalysts, they are still looking for a Russian woman. “It’s like an incurable disease, I can’t forget it”, “Russians are so beautiful!”, “When I see a Russian, my blood pressure goes off scale!”, “I can’t get rid of this obsession!”. But, you must admit that this is a series of excessive emotions. Psychologically, foreigners “get hooked”, to use the terminology of drug addicts, on the needle of bright and total images stimulated by the behavior of strong, violent people from Russia.
There is another dimension in which the three paradigms differ. This is a temporary dimension. I would say that Orthodox reflection gravitates towards the past. Everything that was, is of incredible value. Death turns out to be an ideal as an eternal past. The Catholic model is an interest in the present. That is why it is easily subject to modernization, and adapts to the current life. Protestantism is the expectation of happiness and joy in the future, perhaps in the very near future. The ever-smiling and optimistic-minded Americans irritate us precisely with their unwillingness to notice the tragic past, or the inexpressive present. Some go into inactive reflection, others try to accept and streamline life around, and still others try to build a joint future, quickly agreeing on the actions taken by the group. The Protestant model covers the weak and is oriented towards the outside world. Orthodox - for exceptionally strong individuals who are able to internally survive in any external adversity. An autistic model where the psyche never ends and always dominates the outside world. Catholic model privacy- for a moderate audience, perhaps that's why I personally gravitate towards the Catholic model, which coincides with the normal one.

It turns out that many people care about the topic "children of emigrants want to go back and return when they grow up".

Some want it, others don't. It all depends on how the child lives in immigration, at what age he left his country, and even more depends on the parents and on those people who remained in his homeland. Personally, I do not know a single second-generation emigrant who would return to Russia, but I admit that there are.

Our child does not want to go back to him there is no time to want. He left Russia too young to leave any strong ties there, except for his grandmother. But since the grandmother is in touch with us around the clock via the Internet, he does not feel any loss.

And there is also this moment: we did not initially position our move to Bulgaria as some kind of total emigration, not in the sense of the word itself, but in the sense of something global, some kind of change in life and loss, something tragic and epochal . No. We just traveled and traveled everywhere and stayed "a little" in Bulgaria, did not break ties and did not lose relations with the place where we left. We regularly went to visit Russia, constantly maintained and maintain contacts, and, probably, therefore, he does not feel deprived in this regard.

I know people whose children want to return and even demand it from their parents. They are better there. When they come to Russia, everything is fun and good there, everything is clear and familiar. This only says that they did not fit into the Bulgarian environment, did not learn the language and do not find common language with parents, if parents like it here, but children do not. I am absolutely convinced that for small children (up to 12 years old) it is good where mom and dad are good, provided normal family relations, certainly.

A couple of years ago, I wrote this post on LiveJournal:

Suddenly, it turned out that today is our anniversary of being in land of ever red tomatoes Bulgaria.

I was even surprised by the number! I'm used to the question "How long have you been living here?" Answer: 5 years. And then, it turned out that it was not five anymore - it would be 10 soon, damn it! Figasebe, I thought, how life goes by! But I’m still not going to make repairs in the bathhouse and, in general, I didn’t have time to do a lot of things, because I don’t notice the passage of time. And our furniture is still the same as at the beginning ... but I think why the wallpaper is so dusty ... It turns out that they had to be re-pasted twice already. Here we are happy and not at all everyday people. By the way, about happiness: on my first day of arrival in this country, I suddenly stopped wrist watch, good, expensive, Swiss, favorite. And I haven't worn a watch since.
According to the event, I decided to analyze the situation and draw conclusions. For the first time, I conducted a survey among households in the amount of one and a half people: a husband and a son. There were three questions:
1. How do you rate your life in Bulgaria?
2. Do you like it here?
3. Would you like to return to your homeland?
To the first question, I first got goggle-eyed: "What are you asking?! Are we leaving??!"
In general, I summarize: the people, in general, do not bother, they live their lives as they live - they are satisfied with that, nothing compares with anything, no one looks back. And for some, there is nothing to look back at - only diapers are behind them.
The second question also caused bewilderment and difficulties. Banal answers came from tourist guides: "Well, there are many sights and fruits here, it's warm here, there are sea and mountains."
To the third question, "one and a half people" answered "No!" in unison.

So, our child never asked to go back to Russia. On the contrary, there was a case when we arrived in Russia, and three days later he asked me when we were going home. This is where, I asked, - to Bulgaria, he was surprised at my dullness.

Should we let the child know about the reasons for our emigration and what, in general, should I tell him about his homeland?

Well, of course, dedicate, I think. That is, do not hide anything, especially if he asks. Although ours did not ask and does not ask. Probably because he knows that there are no reasons - it's just life. We live here, and he lives with us, because this is how all normal children live. At least that's the way it is in our family. We'll go somewhere else and he's with us too. Until he grows up and begins to choose for himself what to do and how to live.

He is not engaged comparative analyzes where is worse and where is better. It seems to me that children are not inclined to such things - they accept the world as it is and just live in it.
Do we tell him about Russia? Specially - no, but we have no prohibitions on conversations and questions. He lives in the same world as we do, and if we see something and discuss it, then he sees and hears it.

Should I teach my child Russian?

The existence of such a question in the minds of the Russian people plunged me into extreme surprise. Why not? What is the benefit of not knowing the language? It seems to me that what more languages a person knows, the better for him, not only in socially, but also in the physical: they say bilinguals and polyglots are less likely to experience insanity and their brains work faster.

I will not write about national self-determination - this is one of the reasons for emigration and is already a private matter for everyone.

We do not forbid our child to speak Russian and learn it. Just like we teach him Bulgarian and English, and also we swing at German.
Do we teach our child Russian literature? Yes. Why not? He just reads books by Russian authors or in Russian. Stories? We also learn as questions come in.

In general, I see no reason to deny the child knowledge. If only he wanted to receive them and you would have enough time and energy for this.

Third weirdest question:

Will our children forgive us for emigration? The fact that we took them from their homeland to a foreign land.

Why is there even a question of forgiveness? So, by thinking like this and acting like that, you know in advance that you are doing wrong? Are you making a mistake by emigrating from Russia? That is, you put the blame on yourself.

In this case, I should probably blame my parents for the fact that they once transported my sister and me from Kamchatka to the mainland?
Then it's strange why I don't care. Maybe I'm the wrong daughter, maybe the right daughters should blame and not forgive their parents for how they lived their lives, and at the same time raised them to be so beautiful and educated.

In general, I do not think that our child will have such a question - to forgive us for emigrating to Bulgaria. It doesn’t fit in my head, because I don’t feel any guilt for myself. However, if he ever blames me for this, I will think that I simply did not instill good manners in him firmly enough.

December 12, 1923 in the largest Russian emigrant high school- in the Russian gymnasium in Moravska Trzebov in Czechoslovakia - on the initiative of the former director of this gymnasium A.P. Petrov, quite unexpectedly for both the students and the teaching staff, two adjacent lessons were canceled and the students were offered: not embarrassed by the shape, size, etc. and without receiving any instructions from them, write an essay on the topic: “My memories from 1917 to the day I entered the gymnasium.” The authors of the memoirs are children, boys and girls aged 8 to 24.

Fragments of some works:

“I rushed to the front to avenge the desecrated Russia. I ran away twice, but they caught me and brought me back. How glad and happy I was when my mother blessed me.”

“Dad and mom asked him to stay since he was still a boy. But nothing could stop him. Oh, how I envied him ... The day of departure came. Brother joyful, cheerful, as never before, that he is going to defend his homeland, said goodbye to us. I will never forget this clear, truthful face, so courageous and beautiful ... I saw him for the last time.

“When they brought us to the fortress and put us in a row to swear allegiance to the Bolsheviks, the sailor came up to me and asked how old I was? I said "nine", to which he cursed like a sailor and hit me in the face with his fist; what happened next, I don’t remember, because. after the impact, I fainted. I woke up when the cadets were coming out of the gate. I was confused and wanted to cry. In the place where the junkers stood, the dead were lying and some worker was pulling off his boots. Without looking back I rushed to the gate, where they hit me in the back with a rifle butt.

“Bluish and swollen little corpses (cadets) were caught in the ditches.”

“The “comrades” called us “little snakes of the counter-revolution”, how insulting it was to hear such a nickname!”

“They did a search and took my mother to prison, but after 3 weeks they took my mother to Yekaterinodar, I went up to say goodbye, and a Red Army soldier hit me in the face with a butt - I didn’t have time.”

"The Bolsheviks took more and more Russian land."

“I realized that under the Bolsheviks, as they called themselves, it would not be good for us Russians.”

“The light from the fire illuminated the church... hanged men swayed on the belfry; their black silhouettes cast a terrible shadow on the walls of the church.”

"One (sister of mercy) was killed, and the finger on which the ring was cut off."

“Officers rushed from the third floor, but did not get killed, but broke something for themselves, and the Bolsheviks nailed them with bayonets.”

An acquaintance came and began to talk about how “The Bolsheviks came to his house and killed his wife and two children; returning from the service, he came home and saw that the whole floor was covered in blood and the corpses of people dear to him were lying near the window. When he spoke, he continually closed his eyes; his lips were trembling, and, shouting, he jumped up from the sofa and, like a madman, flew out into the yard, what happened next, I did not see.

“The sailors went berserk and terribly tortured the last officers. I myself witnessed one execution: they brought in three officers, most likely midshipmen; one of them was killed on the spot, some sailor shot another in the face, and this one was left without an eye and begged to finish it off, but the sailor only laughed and hit him in the stomach with a butt, occasionally stabbing in the stomach. The third was cut open in the stomach and tortured until he died.”

“Several Bolsheviks beat the officer with anything: one beat him with a bayonet, another with a gun, a third with a log, finally, the officer fell to the ground in exhaustion, and they ... enraged, like animals at the sight of blood, began to trample him with their feet.”

“Here is a woman with a cry of despair trying to get into a moving train, with a wild laugh, a soldier pushed her away, with a red star of the devil, and she rolled under the wheels of the train ... The crowd gasped.”

“We had shootings three times a week: on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday, and in the morning, when we went to the market to sell things, we saw a huge strip of blood on the pavement, which the dogs licked.”

"Evening. The silence was broken by gunshots and the howling of hungry dogs. An old nanny came and told this: (she was among the prisoners and miraculously got out of there) the prisoners, beaten, undressed, stood at the walls, their faces expressed horror, others looked at the tormentors with supplication, and there were those whose eyes contemptuously looked at scoundrels, met death, dying for their homeland. The torture began. Moans resounded ... the vaults of the garage, and the nanny fell; she was then taken out along with the corpses.”

“Mom began to ask that they take us along with her; she already had a presentiment and could not speak for excitement. In the emergency room, my mother was asked for a long time whose wife she was. When we entered the room, a terrible picture presented itself to our eyes ... Inhuman screams were heard around, half-dead people lay on the floor with twisted arms and legs. I will never forget how some old woman tried to straighten her broken leg ... I just closed my eyes for a few minutes. Mom was terribly pale and could not speak.”

“The next day, when they again broke into us, they saw my uncle in uniform and an officer’s uniform, they wanted to rip off the shoulder straps, but he calmly took them off, took out a revolver and shot himself, not allowing himself to be touched.”

“This time, both dad and mom were arrested, I went to my mom in prison. My nanny and I stood near the prison for several hours. Finally it was our turn, my mother was behind bars. I did not recognize my mother: she had completely turned gray and turned into an old woman. She rushed to me and tried to hug me. But the grate was in the way, she tried to break it; the Bolsheviks stood around us and laughed.

“The Bolsheviks were about to leave, and before leaving, they cut down all things and wounded their brother. Then one of them wanted to hang my mother, but others said that it was not worth it, since everything had already been taken away from them and we would die of hunger anyway.”

“They demanded their mother and older sisters for questioning. I don’t know what they did with them, how they interrogated them, they hid it from me and my younger sisters. I know one thing - soon after that my mother fell ill and soon died.

“I saw with my own eyes how my uncle was seized and they began to shoot him before our eyes - I cannot describe everything that we experienced.”

“I was very scared when the Bolsheviks came, they started robbing and took my grandfather, tied him to a post and began torturing him, pulling out his nails, tearing his fingers, pulling out his hands, pulling out his legs, tearing his eyebrows, pricking his eyes, and I was very sorry, very, I couldn't watch."

“They began to search, they dragged my father out of bed, they began to scold him, insult him, they began to take their own crosses ... my father said: I don’t give to robbers and I don’t give to thieves either. One Red Army soldier drew his revolver and mortally wounded him. The mother came running from the kitchen and attacked them. They hit her with a sword and killed on the spot. My little sister jumped up and ran towards us. We started running into the house. We come running ... everything is scattered, but they are no longer there. We buried them with tears, and began to think how we should live.”

“The commissar came to us, who offered us sweets and threatened only that we tell him where our father was, but we knew very well that they wanted to kill him, and were silent.”

“At 12 o’clock at night, the Red Army men came for us, with whom there was one woman. Having built us in height, they took us to the basement, dark, damp, with some bad smell. Having stripped us naked, there were women among us, they selected several officers and put us against the wall. Shots rang out, groans rang out. After the first victims, the woman commissar selected the women and handed them over to the Red Army for fun in front of our eyes. I was in some kind of stupor ... A security officer approached me and said: “What are you a handsome boy. You know! Come with me for the night and you will be happy. You will learn a lot and become my comrade.” Not hearing my answer, she laughed rudely and dragged me into an adjoining room. Beside myself, I screamed and wept. She pushed me away and said, "Get that bastard back, I'm not in the mood today." Once in the cell, I lost consciousness. I woke up at home, on my bed with my head bandaged. Dad recovered and replaced me. I've been in a fever for over three weeks now. (approached Volunteer army.) Arriving home, I found ... my sister in tears. Without saying anything, the sister pointed to the newspaper. I took it and dropped my hands. It was written there that tonight my father and others would be shot like former Black Hundred officers. We didn't know what to do. We decided to go serve a moleben to Reverend Daniel, the holy father.”

When planning our departure to Barcelona, ​​we all the time wondered how to organize everything in the presence of an almost 4-year-old daughter, Yaroslava Alexandrovna. The same question was repeatedly asked by our friends and acquaintances. And the truth is - in the homeland of grandparents, kindergarten, friends. Everything is well-established, debugged, doctors are selected, plans are made. I was very worried about how my daughter would adapt here, how she would communicate, not knowing the language, whether she would miss home.

Today we can say that the move turned out to be more stressful for us than for Yaroslava Alexandrovna. While we were nervous and worried, Yasya established contacts with a new country.
BUT baby question- this is, in fact, what Spain really surprised us with and continues to surprise us with.
Barcelona's relationship with children is certainly excellent :)

Children are very fond of here. Your child will be smiled everywhere, show signs of attention, try to pat on the head, and will not be told that "ay-yay-yay, a child without a hat!" Don't be alarmed if an 80-year-old grandfather who can barely walk with a cane suddenly begins to make faces and stick out his tongue at your child. Therefore, first of all, teach your child to charmingly pronounce the greeting “Ola!” - this will be useful to him for the conquest of Spanish adults.

Here with a child you can be everywhere - shops, gyms, restaurants. Children are no problem here. For example, we go to Spanish classes with our daughter. She sits next to us, listens to the teacher, watches cartoons on a tablet with headphones, draws, paints, eats bagels. In general, it's fun, but it doesn't bother anyone. As we have understood, such "sets" of students are also available in other groups. Of course, no one has canceled baby sitters, but we do not see such a need yet. Yes, and I don’t want to give 8-10 euros per hour while the child walks beautifully with us.

Also, in the context of the children's theme, the infrastructure of the city is very pleasing. We already wrote that for the first month we had to live in Barry Gotica - this is the most touristic area of ​​​​Barcelona. In other European cities, such areas are usually referred to as Old city- narrow cobbled streets, cafes, pubs, shops and other tourist pleasures. And that's what surprised us - it's about a huge number of playgrounds where, it would seem, there is no need for them. Only near our house, a two-minute walk in different directions, there were three playgrounds. In general, they are here poked all over the city.

Here, for example, is a site right above a busy 4-lane road - the Gracia area. Everything is fenced and safe.

And here's the other one - next to Park Güell.

And of course, the picture is fully expressed here, which any mother - father with children can endlessly look at. To our Slavic eye, this sight is unusual and touching, but for Spain it is an absolute norm. Actually, often mothers on the playground are in the minority. And dad quite briskly walks two or three children. Moreover, this does not seem to be national trait Spaniards. Everyone is busy with children - Spaniards, Peruvians, Germans, Pakistanis. Here the image of the “parent-earner” completely collapses, proudly sitting on the couch after a hard day's work and requiring the addition of soup and pasta.

You too can join this children's "holiday of life". To do this, you will need to collect some documents.

So, in order to obtain a type D visa to Spain, your child (of any age) will need travel document (similar to an adult passport). But it is important to know that already here, in Spain, in all institutions you will not be required to have a travel document, but a birth certificate with a translation and an apostille. So don't leave it at home.

In addition, to obtain a visa, your child needs:
- medical certificate (same as for an adult),
- material security (at the rate of 536 euros per month of residence),
- preferably a notarized statement from the parents with the obligation to bear all material costs for the maintenance of the child,
- insurance policy,

We have also heard that if your child is already 6 years old, you will need a contract with educational institution in Spain where the child will study. But, since Yaroslava Aleksandrovna is younger, we have not studied this issue, so we confine ourselves to such a rumor.

Also, if the child is studying somewhere at home, you need a certificate from this educational institution.

Before you move, it will not be superfluous to take care of a few more points.

Collect a first aid kit for the child (for adults, it also does not hurt). A large number of drugs in Europe are sold exclusively by prescription. Although Spain can be considered a fairly simple country in this regard, there is a lot on free sale. But for the first time it is better to take a number of drugs familiar to your family.

Insurance. Both for ourselves and for the child, we took the usual one, without any special preferences. Using Ukrainian insurance here is quite tedious - in which case, you must first call the insurance company, wait until they choose a hospital for you, and only then go there. Therefore, we plan to issue a local policy in the near future, which should greatly simplify communication with medical institutions.

An extract from the child's medical record showing all vaccinations made, translated into Spanish (you will need this extract when registering for a kindergarten or school). How to be those who do not vaccinate a child, we do not know. Perhaps you need to translate documents about the medical exemption.
Of course, having arrived somewhere for a long time with a child, sooner or later you will become interested in the question education.

You will be very surprised, but at the age of 3 the child will not go to kindergarten, but to school. Although this option is optional. But from the age of 6, education is compulsory. A pleasant innovation - recently the right to free education have all, without exception, children in Spain. Even children of illegal immigrants.

Google and other Internet give very conflicting information about the way to determine the "blood" in the local school. But in the end, this was our path. We went to the Department of Education of our district. We filled out an application, where we indicated 4 priority schools for us. They also showed a residence permit, a birth certificate and a copy of the passport of one of the parents. (Later, for registration already in particular school, we will need a document on the vaccination of the child, which is mentioned above).

Now, until the end of July, we are waiting for a letter in which we will be informed about which school we are taking. If none of the schools indicated by us has free places, we should be offered another school near our house.

By the way, when choosing a school, you also indicate whether you want a free (public) school or a paid (private or semi-public) school. Your preferences are bound to be respected.
As in all other cases, ignorance Spanish somewhat complicated the whole process of applying and finding the right institutions. But we are already very skillfully waving our arms, combining English with meager knowledge of Spanish. If you once played the Crocodile game well, this experience will undoubtedly come in handy for you :)

In the near future we will study where Yaroslava Alexandrovna could dance, draw and do other things. useful deeds- they say, there is something like our palaces of pioneers. In the meantime, we walk, draw, read Ukrainian books that we brought with us from Kyiv - for this we took a whole separate piece of luggage on the plane.
In general, so far everything is not very scary. The main thing is that the daughter of the Peruvian groom does not bring - they are not very beautiful :)