Notes at the Front

Estimates vary regarding the number of Russians who have left the country since its full-scale invasion of Ukraine on February 22, 2024 (The Bell estimated it at a minimum of 650,000). Driven to flee by the fear of mobilization, political repression, or economic uncertainties in a country fast becoming a world pariah, many departing Russians were financially, mentally or emotionally ill-prepared for this forced emigration. Some ended up moving back (see article, page 12), while others came to terms with their new lives abroad. We asked several émigrés to recall their early days in their new surroundings. These are their stories.

On my second day in Belgrade I was asked to join a local colleague in checking out our new office. I rushed to Novi Belgrade – with which I was completely unfamiliar – to make it in time for our 9 a.m. meeting. After having a look, we prepared to go back to the old office on the other side of the river. I told my colleague: “Apologies, but I really need a coffee, can we stop by a café?” “Of course,” the colleague said. We popped into a nearby Coffeedream, so rancid with cigarette smoke it made my eyes water, but such is our reality now. “Cappuccino to go,” I said. My colleague nearly fainted. “Why to go? Aren’t we going to sit down?” “No, of course not,” I said, “We need to hurry back to get to work.” “And what will happen to the work if we get there 15 minutes later?” the colleague asked, incredulous. “What is it with you Russians and time? Why are you always racing to get somewhere?”

That was my first encounter with Serbia’s famous “polako” – not just the word, which means “slow, steady,” but also the way of life.