For the past two months I have been waiting for clarity on an unfortunate turn of events that has upended my life. It appears that answers—or even a simple explanation—may not be forthcoming, and so I feel it is my duty to inform my readers, particularly those of you who have honored me with your financial support, of what has transpired, and how these events will affect the ol’ blog.
I am currently writing from Alexandria, Egypt.
On July 22, Ekaterina, my partner and co-founder of the Edward Institute for Village Studies, was detained while reentering Russia from Moscow’s Domodedovo airport. After being questioned for several hours, she was released and instructed to wait while her documents were processed. Her passport was stamped—that is to say, she was granted entry to Russia—and all was well.
Or so it seemed.
Hours passed, and Katya continued to wait. Finally, she was approached by a uniformed officer. But instead of being given her passport and passage to baggage claim, Katya was ushered into a holding cell and informed that she was being deported. She was not told why she was being deported, nor was she told if she was now banned from reentering Russia, and if so, for how long.
Her passport, containing an annulled entry stamp, was not returned to her until she landed in Cairo, Egypt, on July 25, the place of her last departure before arriving in Moscow.
There are usually clear protocols when an individual is denied entry to Russia. The deportee is provided a document that explains the reason(s) for deportation, as well as information on future prohibitions from entering Russia, if applicable.
Katya’s case appears to be an exception to these rules. The document Katya received labeled her a “threat to national security” (without providing an explanation as to why), and contained no information about if or when she would be allowed to return to Russia.
Shortly after checking into her hotel in downtown Cairo, Katya hired a lawyer in Russia and, through the Russian Consulate in Cairo, was able to give her daughter—a Russian citizen currently residing in St. Petersburg—power-of-attorney. A letter to both the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Federal Security Service (FSB) requesting information on whether Katya was banned from reentry was drafted and submitted.
Under Russian legislation, the relevant authorities have 30 days to respond to such a request.
In less than a week, the Ministry of Internal Affairs (that is, the police) responded that, as far as they were concerned, Katya was not prohibited from returning to Russia.
More than 45 days have passed since the letter was received, and we are still waiting for an answer from the FSB.
Needless to say, this is rather frustrating and makes it difficult to decide what to do next.
A Russian diplomat in Egypt was gracious enough to meet with Katya, who explained the situation to him. He characterized her predicament as highly irregular, especially given that she has lived for more than a quarter century in Russia, is a productive taxpaying member of society, and has a daughter with a Russian passport who lives in Russia.
If you will indulge me, a few facts about Katya:
She received a scholarship at the tender age of 16 to visit Russia, immediately fell in love with the country, and quickly made it her life’s mission to move to Russia and master the language.
Since 2006, Katya has been living without interruption in Russia. Katya obtained permanent residency in 2018.
Her command of the Russian language is such that most Russians she interacts with assume she is Russian and express astonishment when they learn she’s from Philadelphia. She is incapable of pronouncing “water” correctly in English, but her Russian accent is flawless.
Unsurprisingly, in Russia she has become a sought-after specialist in her fields—translation and voice-over work. Just last week, Katya received a job offer from the Hermitage Museum, which she had to politely decline due to her current circumstances.
A few months ago, Katya competed on a game show with other non-native Russian speakers that was broadcast on Russian state television. She ran laps around her fellow competitors, coming in clear first (although she continues to beat herself up over falling short of winning the show’s grand prize).
That is to say, the FSB deported a woman who not so long ago was answering trivia about Russian culture on Russian state television; a woman who had to turn down work for one of the world’s most famous art museums because the FSB seems to be in no hurry to tell her whether or not she will ever be allowed back into Russia.
Faced with indefinite uncertainty over Katya’s situation, maintaining the Village Institute’s farm—with its considerable financial and time obligations—was no longer realistic.
The cows were sold, the goats were downsized, and I flew to Egypt at the end of August.
The village just wasn’t the same without her. How I came to live in a half-abandoned hamlet in Novgorod Oblast in the first place was entirely her doing.
It was through Katya’s tireless work and vision that the Institute came into being. While she was scouting out possible rural locales where we could purchase property and put down roots, I was spiraling into despair in Moscow. While she was planting the Institute’s first vegetable garden, I was goofing off in Tbilisi, Georgia.
From cheese-making to folk music concerts, Ekaterina was always the brains behind our village operation. I mostly just shoveled manure and stacked wood in an aesthetically pleasing manner. I was also abnormally adept at breaking things.
Basically everything except the tunnel I tried to dig in her garden was her idea. And the tunnel collapsed, you guys.
Those who have followed updates from our Novgorod village over the past two years are undoubtedly worried about Susan, the Internet’s most beloved misgendered village cat.
Susan, Sabrina, and Potato are being looked after by caring and understanding neighbors.
Edward Junior is with his mother in Moscow Region. I miss him dearly and hope to be reunited with him soon.
Is this the end of the Institute? I don’t know, and the people who do know won’t tell me. That’s the problem, you see.
A final thought before I close things out.
It is possible that these developments will be greeted with schadenfreude by certain individuals who believe they are fighting an existential “info war” that will decide the fate of BRICS (humanity).
It’s not like that, friends.
Take a break from Telegram. Take a good look around you.
It’s just a ride.
That’s literally all it is.
To quote the irreplaceable Bill Hicks:
The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while.
Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?”
And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.”
And we … kill those people.
“Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.”
It’s just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok …
But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one.
I don’t know where this ride will take me next. But after all the tears, anger, and frustration over the past two months, I am left with a peculiar feeling. Gratitude? I don’t know what the correct word is. Maybe the FSB also feel gratitude but just don’t know how to express it, and that’s why we haven’t received an answer to our letter.
It’s been a beautiful, wild ride. At times the ride has made me want to rip my eyeballs out. But I couldn’t ask for a more fitting ride. I wonder where this ride will take me next.
As for the blog—I will keep writing, inshallah.
Hop in. Although I haven’t the slightest idea where we’re going.
Riley and Katja, hang in there. You have a ton of people behind you. When one door closes, another opens. Been the story of my life!
Good luck, Riley. And may God preserve and protect you, Katya, little Edward, his mother, and your whole endearing cast of characters. May the human drama you are playing out soon transition into the "And they all lived happily ever after" part.... Hugs and prayers.