From Chukotka to Dublin: How I moved to Ireland
ONE OF THE MAIN DECISIONS IN YOUR LIFE as it turned out later, I took in the winter of 2008 in a hospital, where I ended up with a terrible sore throat. My classmates came to visit me and told me about the possibility of spending the summer in the USA on the program Work and Travel. There was not the slightest doubt. "Of course yes!" - I decided, a nineteen year old sophomore RUDN. Moreover, I had to tighten up English, which I began to learn in my childhood in Chukotka, in my native village, Ugolnye Kopy. Before that, I was only a couple of times abroad - in Turkey with my parents.
I grew up in Chukotka. The sky there is low-low, and the stars are huge, with a two-euro coin. Frost bites cheeks. The village itself is small, cozy, there were many children in it, and, it seems, almost all the same age. In the Coal Mines in the winter often occurred interruptions in the delivery of products. Sometimes even had to eat some canned food: green tomatoes, zucchini, stew. I remember that on our driveway into twenty apartments somehow only one loaf of bread remained. It was cut into equal parts and distributed to those who have elderly and children in their families.
I lived in Chukotka for up to twelve years, and then my parents sent me for three years to visit my grandmother and grandfather in Ukraine, to Zhytomyr. Our teachers in Chukotka have always tried very hard, but when in Zhytomyr I began to study in a specialized language school, it turned out that my English is not that primitive - it is almost absent. Almost every day before the lessons grandfather took me to the tutor. And the grandmother, the head teacher on out-of-class work, wrote down all the circles at once. Therefore, I was super-active: I sang in the choir, danced, went to Russian and mathematics competitions. And she also suffered because of the Ukrainian, which I was not given at all - especially the pronunciation.
I returned to the Coal Mines as a star. And in the tenth grade I, of course, was sent to the regional language Olympiad, which was supported by the then governor of Chukotka Roman Abramovich. The main prize is a week in London. I never doubted for a second that victory would be mine. After the Olympiad I returned home, and dad and I went to photograph me on the international passport. I was already sitting on the chair waiting for the click of the camera, when my dad got a call from the school and said that it was not I who won, but the twin sisters from the neighboring village. In the photo I went out with a dumbfounded, disappointed, sour mine. My world collapsed. It was the end of the world.
Wildwood
After graduating from school, I entered the Institute of Hotel Business and Tourism at RUDN. At first, she was terribly afraid of Moscow, and especially the subway with people running about. After enrollment, we agreed to meet with Chukchi friends at a cafe. Mom collected me like a war. I needed one to drive three stations along the blue line, from Partizanskaya to Baumanskaya. You cannot even imagine how much happiness and pride it was when I did it and did not get lost!
We passed the summer session in the second year ahead of time. American visa was in the passport, tickets were purchased. At the end of May 2008, the night before I left for the USA, I was hysterical. I suddenly realized that I didn’t want to go anywhere and that I was terribly scary. Dad promised that if I really didn’t like it there, they would immediately return me home. And only then we went to the airport, where two of my girlfriends were already waiting.
In New York, we took a bus to the tourist town of Wildwood on the Atlantic coast, in the state of New Jersey, where we had to live and work all summer. We arrived there at night. Empty streets, dark, everything is closed. On the way we met with two Russian-speaking guys. Five of us we barely rented a two-room suite in a hotel. Already in the morning at breakfast it became clear that I hardly understand American English at all. I taught the classic British version, and the local dialect was completely different.
They took us to the children's sector of the amusement park games. The first week we only did what the rules of different games explained. It was during one of the briefings that I first saw Karl. He was tall, very thin, pale, a million freckles and bright red hair with a white stripe in the center. In a word - chipmunk. They talked with a friend in a strange language, similar to Finnish or Norwegian. Later I found out that this is the way English sounds with the famous Dublin accent.
After the gray Moscow March, Ireland seemed to me to be incredibly green and bright. Dublin smelled of the sea, and the wind was so icy that even a warm down jacket did not save
The story with Karl began on the day when we were set to work together. I broke the rules a bit and helped the children win. Because it is terribly unfair when parents pay five dollars per game, and their two-year-old baby is left without a prize and cries. I was afraid that Karl would pledge me to the manager, and he instead began to help. "What a kind guy!" - I thought - and fell in love.
We absolutely liked each other, but we started dating only when only a couple of weeks remained before Karl left for Dublin. We walked at night in the pouring rain, went to the cinema, where I understood little. My girlfriends and I even taught him two Russian words: “baby” and “hydroelectric power station”. Before leaving the "Irish Chipmunk" I sobbed a lot. Karl promised to write and not to disappear, and I was sure that I would never see him again. I was mistaken.
Karl added me to ICQ as soon as he returned home, and in December came to visit me in Moscow. It's time to tell my parents that I have a boyfriend from Ireland. The only thing that was important for my parents was that I was happy, so they approved my choice.
In the early spring of 2009, I flew to Dublin for the first time. After the gray Moscow March, Ireland seemed to me to be incredibly green and bright. Dublin smelled of the sea, and the wind was so icy that even a warm down jacket did not save. I was shaking with cold and excitement. In the car, Carl informed me that we were going to meet his parents. Conservative, Catholic - in a word, a classic Irish family with four sons met me heartily. The future father-in-law looked at me friendly and with great interest, and talked to me so slowly that they reminded me of a caterpillar with a hookah from "Alice in Wonderland."
Wexford
For two years, Karl and I have maintained relationships at a distance. We corresponded every day and met at every opportunity, but still it was painfully difficult. By the end of 2010, it became clear that the time had come for a serious decision. After graduating from university, I planned to get a job in some five-star hotel in Moscow. But Karl set me a condition: either I move to Ireland, or we will have to part, because he will never move to Russia. It was very painful and offensive. I could not understand: what is wrong with my country? But the future without Karl did not exist for me.
In early 2011, I arrived in Ireland to finish my diploma. Winter, Monday, evening. I'm in pajama pants, a bunch on my head. We lay on the couch and watched the cartoon "Rapunzel." Suddenly, I noticed that Karl's heart almost jumps out of his chest. She asked if everything was alright with him. And he pulled out a ring from under the pillow and made me an offer. I was so happy! Both of our families were pleased. Karl's mom, a few months before, joked very Irishly: "It would be nice if you got married. The Russian sister-in-law is such an exotic thing. And we have already brought the hamster." Apparently, I felt a quick engagement.
And then hell began with the documents. To get permission for a wedding in Ireland, we had to arrange a so-called civil marriage at the embassy. For this it was necessary to provide evidence that we have been in a relationship for at least three years. Photos, written testimonies of relatives and friends, air tickets. We took the documents to the Irish embassy in boxes: only the printout of SMS messages weighed ten kilograms. I had to let strangers poke around in our personal life, but after a month and a half I was given a visa.
In August 2011, I finally moved to Ireland, but not to Dublin, but to the city of Wexford, famous for its beaches. There, Karl, a mechanical engineer by profession, was able to find work during an economic crisis. The first time I had a complete euphoria. We have appointed a wedding for the summer of 2012, I was engaged in the house and selflessly baked apple pies.
We took the documents to the Irish Embassy as boxes: only a printout of SMS messages weighed ten kilograms
Once in the Irish province, I was long accustomed to the fact that everyone here has something to do with you. On the street, in the park, in the store, strangers constantly talk to you: they say hello, they ask you if everything is good, they are interested in your opinion about the weather, they advise you what to buy. One day a tractor driver waved and signaled to me. When I asked Carl what they all needed from me, he laughed for a long time.
After a couple of months, the euphoria was replaced by longing. All my friends in Moscow found a job with a good salary, and I sat in tiny Wexford and did not earn a cent. Then I came up with a new plan: I sent a letter to the Ministry of Justice and Equality with a request to make an exception for me and issue a work permit before the wedding. After two months of silence I was sent to him. The migration service then said that they had never seen anything like it in their lives. They advised to hang the document in a frame in the most prominent place.
But the issue of employment had to be temporarily postponed: it was necessary to prepare for the wedding. I waited for her for so long, so everything had to be immaculate, like in the movies. We got married on a perfect sunny summer day, which we don’t happen on the island very often. A hundred guests. The church with the longest passage from the door to the altar, which could only be found. I am in a white dress in the floor and veil. And after the ceremony - a party at the hotel on the lake.
After our honeymoon, we returned to Wexford, where I seriously took up the job search and found it in an unusual way. One day we and my mother-in-law wandered into a store where I liked curtains. I wanted to buy them, but first decided to clarify at the checkout if I could return them or exchange them if my husband did not like them. Suddenly, all the saleswomen began to laugh gaily. I repeated the question, what caused the new bout of laughter.
Then my mother-in-law intervened: "Masha, they laugh, because your husband cannot have any opinion about these curtains. You liked them, you bought them, he hung them. That's it." It was the first time when I seriously realized that in Ireland only women deal with home issues. The next time I went to the same store for pillows, but they were not on sale. But I left my resume there, just in case. A few hours later they called me and called me for an interview. On the one hand, it was embarrassing and even embarrassing that I, a graduate of a prestigious university, got a job in a store. On the other hand, I liked this job.
At some point, I felt that we with Dublin on the same wavelength. It is a spacious, cozy, partly old-fashioned city, with a bright character and history.
Women in the team were pleasant, but a few men are not very. Once I asked one of them why he was in such a bad mood and if I could help. To which he replied to me: “It was not clear who was brought here. I can drop you off after work to the port,” hinting at the fact that he would put me on a ferry to France, and there and to Moscow to hand. And in general, they say, may all emigrants return home. I was upset, but I decided to tell the management everything. I was supported, persuaded to stay. They said that this employee already had a similar conflict with the British. But I left anyway. Couldn't see him anymore.
In the next place - a four star hotel - I worked in the specialty. Night shifts were hard for me. I walked forever tired, nervous, twitching, and I hardly saw Karla. In addition, there was a new boss, who regularly wrote reports to me and swore. When, after another showdown, she asked me to sign a paper that she had done educational work with me, my patience snapped. I went home and sobbed for several hours. When I fell asleep, Carl went to the hotel and wrote a letter of resignation for me. When he returned, he said: "You can no longer worry. You no longer need to go there."
I experienced both of these stories for a long time and painfully. I suddenly realized that I was very different from the people around me: I am a white crow in Irish society. Now, having lived here for five years, I accepted this fact, and I even begin to like it. But there are things that I can hardly ever get used to. For example, the Irish are friends in a different way. For them, friends are not close people with whom it is customary to share the most intimate, but simply a company to go to a pub, where they talk about work, sports, and never about personal life. On Thursday, it is customary to go to a pub with colleagues, on Friday - with friends.
Irish people do not tend to share their emotions. For those around them, everything is always good. They know how to remain silent for a very long time and in no way show irritation or discontent, especially at work in the presence of their superiors. They practice “long game” with friends: for years they accumulate offense, and then after five years they suddenly break through. I am a very emotional person, I quickly break out and just as quickly depart. I am not able to keep everything in myself and for a long time silently angry. Fortunately, there are social networks, and I maintain relationships with all my close friends in Russia.
Dublin
After spending a couple of years in Wexford, we decided to return to Dublin and moved to the capital as soon as Carl found a job there. I did not immediately understand this city, but at some point I felt that Dublin and I were on the same wavelength. We then lived in the very center. Karl left to play golf on Saturday, and I went out early in the morning to wander through the still deserted streets. Dublin is spacious, cozy, partly old-fashioned, but with a bright character and history, absolutely not "licked" like some capitals. There is no crazy movement in it, but its energy is charging, it gives a second wind. I quickly got a job in the Irish office of a Russian company that has been engaged in aviation leasing, and for more than two years now I have been working for Moscow remotely. Now a new stage begins with my husband: we want to take a house on mortgage and move out of town.
Photo: Dane Mo - stock.adobe.com, graphic @ jet - stock.adobe.com
