Children of foreigners spoke about what shocks them in Russia. Maia Koyanitz, Italy. Summer water “ritual”

It would seem that we are all human and live on the same planet. But centuries-old culture, principles and rules have made us different. Each nation has its own methods of education, which may seem wild and alien to some. This is what foreigners think about the behavior of Russian children.

The navel of the earth and the center of the universe

The first thing that catches the eye of foreigners is overprotection. Most parents try to protect their children, protecting them from literally all problems. While in the West it is “fashionable” to send children to real world without support, in Russia it is customary to literally tie them to yourself and not let go. Foreigners believe that for this reason children grow up too infantile, not adapted to the harsh environment. independent life. Making a decision becomes a real challenge for them.

What else surprises foreigners is that children become the center of the Universe. For most Europeans, it is crazy that grandparents show increased interest in their grandchildren. For them, it’s the other way around: old age does not exist, and retirement is an excellent reason for carefree travel and building a personal life. Russian children almost always grow up with grandparents who prefer to give their children the opportunity to develop and devote themselves entirely to their careers.

Everything for the health and well-being of children

Foreigners immediately draw a parallel, because overprotection and love of all relatives for children becomes the reason for manipulation. Most tourists simply do not understand how a child can throw a tantrum in a public place, and the parents follow his lead and follow any order.

Foreigners are also shocked that Russian parents literally cannot live without regular walks. Walk on fresh air there will be everyone, and it doesn’t matter how many degrees there are outside the window. Neither heat nor severe frost frightens parents in Russia. They believe that daily walks are necessary for children's health - they strengthen the immune system and strengthen them.

Foreigners are especially frightened by the fact that parents send their children to walk in the harsh winter. After all, you won’t see kids soaking wet and sliding downhill at -30 degrees Celsius in every country. Tourists noted that when it rains, there are always a lot of Russian people on the beach - some grill kebabs under a canopy, others set up tents. It would seem that no bad weather is an obstacle for them.

A parallel world

Europeans and Americans adhere to different rules of education. They prefer to put their children to bed at 8-9 pm, as well as themselves. But in Russia everything is different: Russian parents allow their children to sit as long as they want. Of course, on school days a regime is observed, and on weekends children are allowed to sit with adults until 11-12 at night.

The late curfew is justified by the fact that the child, in addition to school, attends tutors, sections and clubs, and also wants to hang out with friends on the street. For Europeans, this is an excessive burden on children, which can lead to chronic fatigue and depression.

What is happening in modern society

Despite the overprotection, Russian children are raised in such a way that they should be able to stand up for themselves. And those who are not capable should under no circumstances complain to their parents or to the class teacher At school. It is not customary to “snitch” from an early age - either you succumb to your enemies, or you begin to defend yourself.

Foreigners noted that the current generation in Russia is becoming very spoiled. They demand expensive gifts from their parents and can easily begin to manipulate and put psychological pressure on them. Gadgets and great appearance come out on top. Children even from dysfunctional families become vain and arrogant. IN modern society status and well-being are important, and their absence is ridiculed.

When foreigners travel to Russia, they are unlikely to realize how different life here is from life in Western countries. Here the mentality, the cuisine, the habits, and the traditions are different. Foreigners who have lived in Russia cannot help but experience this influence of the Russian way of life and even take it with them to their homeland. They begin to notice some signs of “Russification.”

1. Applause when the plane lands. The origins of this custom are unknown, but it appears to only affect flights to or from Russia.

2. Thick armored Entrance door, upholstered in leatherette. And definitely at least two locks. In Russia this is normal, and they do it for protection, but it’s not entirely clear from what.

3. Keys are palm-length. In Russia they are not for beauty, but for real doors.

4. Getting used to a huge number of papers and documents. In Russia, paper library files, insurance policies and medical cards in thick notebooks are still in use. And all this is done manually.

5. The habit of dressing up and taking care of your appearance. Russians dress to impress. After some time, foreigners don’t want to look gray compared to Russians. And yes, a miniskirt in winter is the norm.

6. Small children travel alone public transport. Russians are independent and independent. Foreigners eventually stop asking children in public transport where their mom and dad are.

7. Periodic use of Russian words in speech in the native language. For example, “Kashmar!”, “Bozhemoi!” and “Allo” instead of “Hello” when answering a phone call.

8. The expectation that you can immediately catch a passing car, you just have to pick it up thumb. In Russia, catching passing cars is much easier compared to other countries. This indicates the friendliness of Russians.

9. At least 30 Olga, 20 Elena and another 20 Natasha among friends. The most common names in Russia are indeed widespread.

10. The habit of addressing even people of age as “Devushka” and “Maladoi Chelovek”.

11. Treatment of colds and flu with tea with lemon and honey.

12. More frequent use of VKontakte than Facebook.

13. Now the “Russians” are from Hollywood films cause laughter. No, seriously, they can't even form a sentence correctly.

14. Eating pancakes at huge quantities. Especially during Maslenitsa.

15. Collecting empty cucumber jars. They may never be used, but you should save them just in case.

16. Question “Who Pasledni?” at the post office, at the clinic or at the dentist. There is a line, but it is not necessarily lined up. Instead, in Russia people just randomly sit around the right door.

17. Eating jam and condensed milk with spoons (rather than spreading a thin layer on bread or cookies with a knife).

18. Buying an odd number of flowers. Odd number- for the living, even - for the deceased.

19. Indifference to gloomy faces on the street. Deep down, foreigners who are in love with Russia know very well that Russians are friendly and kind, they just don’t like to smile at just anyone.

20. The rudeness of others no longer hurts so much. Moreover, this is not rudeness, but features of the phonetics of the Russian language, because of which many foreigners think that Russians swear all the time.

In the photo are actors of the Ozersky Puppet Theater Svetlana and Dmitry Erokhin
21. Merry Christmas on January 7th, not December 25th. And the “wrong Santa” in a blue sheepskin coat instead of a red suit, together with his adult granddaughter, no longer causes such surprise.

22. Winter further south middle zone Russia cannot be called winter. When you lived at minus thirty, it’s already warm at zero.

23. Sudden changes in weather and temperature changes are not scary at all. Yesterday zero, today - minus twenty? No problem!

24. The soup must contain sour cream, and the meat can be used to make jelly called “Khaladets”. And it's delicious.

Fri, 02/05/2014 - 17:52

The history of any country is fraught with many unique things that are available only to its residents, causing a pleasant nostalgic thrill and pride in their homeland. There are many native Russian things and traditions in Russia that will be incomprehensible to residents of other countries and continents. Such a delicacy from the childhood of any Soviet child as boiled condensed milk, the tradition of knocking on wood so as not to jinx it, and many other products and customs are an unknown curiosity for foreign citizens.

Pioneerball

This version of volleyball, simplified for the frail bodies of children, appeared in the 30s. Let the data look Soviet children's sports developed mainly only the grasping function of the body, but he was amazingly democratic. Literally everyone could play pioneer ball: boys, girls, fat people, dystrophic people, mentally retarded people and people with glasses. There were no stars in pioneer ball, because it was impossible to play it well (you could play very poorly, but that’s another story). Until now, Russian children in Turkish and Spanish hotels amaze the staff by playing their mysterious game.

Trust turnstiles


This is where they are buried, the roots of national psychology. All over the world, turnstiles in subways and train stations are initially closed and only when tickets or coins are inserted into the proper slot do they move in different directions. If the road is closed - stop, if the road is open - go. And only our turnstiles work on the principle of carnivorous plants. They lurk in the darkness of iron boxes, giving you the illusion of complete freedom and security. But with any attempt at illegal entry, their jaws close on the body of the intruder - in the area of ​​​​the most vulnerable places. Yes, we don’t like simple, open paths. We haven't trusted them since childhood.

Boiled condensed milk


Caramelized concentrated milk also lives in foreign supermarkets - in the departments of all kinds of ingredients for confectionery. But the taste, appearance and smell are still not at all the same as our native condensed milk, which you boiled in a saucepan for three hours and then scraped off the walls and ceiling after being slightly distracted by watching the final match of the European Cup.

Foot wraps


“There were foot wraps, there are and there will be foot wraps! – Army General Vladimir Isakov, Chief of Logistics of the Armed Forces, once said in an interview with the press. – Because synthetics are harmful for the feet, especially when you have to run 30 kilometers in tarpaulin boots. Instead of synthetic thick socks, each soldier needs to be sewn to measure, or they will shrink and fill their legs with bloody calluses. The Russian army tried socks, they tried, we don’t live in the Stone Age. So, the experiments ended in fiasco. These are all sorts of American Marines who strive to move around in helicopters and jeeps; they can afford to play around with socks.” This is the opinion of the army leadership. But each of us can bring one useful skill from the army. For girls, for example, the ability to instantly make socks from two handkerchiefs makes an indelible impression.

Sitting on the track


Our ancient national superstition says that if all members of a noisy family sit down and be silent for a minute before leaving, the trip will be successful. If only because it is at this sacred moment that they can mystically realize that the passports are left on the sofa, the tickets are in the bathroom, and the child is wearing skates instead of mittens.

Knocking on wood


As you know, around every person there are a lot of big-eared evil spirits who are busy destroying all dreams. As soon as they hear that someone there wants to buy a horse at a better price or marry off their daughter successfully, they immediately rush at all costs to raise prices, spoil the girl - just to cause mischief. Therefore, in all countries reasonable people Having foolishly expressed some of their desires out loud, they immediately knocked on the tree: wood scares away devils, the Druids understood this. But now other nations have lost this useful skill. And we knocked and will continue to knock!

Banya broom


More like an instrument of torture than pleasure, this bunch of branches with dried leaves is a much more original symbol of our country than the French ballet, the Chinese kokoshnik or, for example, black caviar, which is widely exported by all sorts of Iran and Canada. Many nations have baths. Only we have a broom.

Birch juice


It seems that birch trees grow in many places, but for some reason no one else thought about how tasty and healthy birch sap is. Maybe it’s all about some gene that only allows us to feel the subtle taste of sweetish veneer that is so wonderful in childhood? And even an adult needs birch sap when a foreigner comes to visit him. Then you can buy a can of this juice and force the guest to thoroughly taste our national drink, watching with quiet pleasure the expression on his face at this moment.

Kvass


Even though strong drink, the progenitor of kvass, was invented in Mesopotamia, today you won’t find kvass during the day in either Egypt or Iran, just like in any other country in the world. Only here. And those scoundrels who last years got into the habit of selling carbonated drinks “based on kvass”, you just need to drown them in basins with their products.

"Retona"


The washing machine, which weighs 300 grams, practically does not consume electricity and does not flood the neighbors below, was born in Tomsk, in the Reton research and production association. You just put it in a bowl with water and dirty laundry, add washing powder, and rest - I don’t want to. While you are minding your own business, Retona is doing its own thing: diligently treating clothes with ultrasonic waves, creating microbubbles that separate dirt from the fabric fibers. Then you will only need to rinse the laundry properly, hand wash it or remove the most stubborn stains with bleach, and thoroughly wring out the laundry. Millions of people have already bought this brilliant invention. Yes, by the way, “Porridge from an Ax” is also a Russian fairy tale.

Seeds


How we managed to introduce eating sunflower seeds, which were brought to us two hundred years ago, into the rank of an ancient national tradition is a mystery. Nevertheless, this plant has become so absorbed into our culture that even trained historians will make mistakes. For example, in the book of the wonderful writer and the story of Boris Akunin “Altyn-Tolobas” we can find a beggar girl husking seeds, not embarrassed by the fact that in the year 1682 described, advanced gardeners in Holland and France had just begun to cultivate this exotic flower.

Vocative case


Once upon a time it was among many Latin peoples, but then it completely degenerated. And we carefully preserved it. True, slightly modified. If earlier, when addressing a person, we expanded the word with an additional “e” at the end (“prince”, “human”), then in modern Russian the vocative form is, on the contrary, an abbreviation in the last vowel: “Zin, a Zin”, “ Listen, Pashk,” “Lech, ah, Lech!”

Old New Year


Europe switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar at the end of the 16th century, and Russia only at the beginning of the twentieth. However Orthodox Church categorically refused to participate in this outrage. There was nothing special here (after all, all branches of Orthodoxy celebrate Christmas on January 7), but we also had an atheistic revolution, which threw Christmas into the dustbin of history and made it not the most important holiday of the year, but the one hanging out next door New Year, attaching to it all the former Christmas attributes such as a Christmas tree, burning stars and gifts from the Magi. As a result, in the people's memory we got a hodgepodge like Olivier salad and we became the owners of unprecedented wealth - as many as three holiday weeks starting Catholic Christmas and ending with a slightly sad holiday, the Old New Year, the very name of which is from the category of things that are impossible, but exist.

String bag

Unknown when primitive For the first time, I thought of connecting animal tendons so that they formed a cellular container that you could put in your pocket in case you suddenly spotted a line for scarce sausage on the way home from work. But we know how the name of the bag beloved by Soviet citizens came about. It was first heard in Raikin’s monologue in 1935. “But this is a string bag,” said his character, waving the above-mentioned object in front of the viewer. “Maybe I’ll bring something home in it today.”

The address is backwards


What is more important – the individual or the state? Individual or society? Unit or system? While philosophers are struggling to resolve these global issues, the Russian postal system has long ago solved them. Only our address begins with the country, then comes the city, street, house and, finally, that combination of letters that you are used to considering as your personal call signs. From the general, so to speak, to the particular. In all other countries, you first notify the postal services that you need John Smith, and only then indicate the coordinates of the place where John Smith is usually found. But it’s easier to work as a postman here!

Activated carbon


Coal has an absorbent property and at the same time reduces acidity environment– just what the doctor ordered. So they treat “stomach problems” with it everywhere. But sanctimonious doctors and pharmacists abroad do their best to disguise the original component, putting all sorts of additives into coal and subjecting it to various metamorphoses (in life you will never guess what this white pill or pink capsule is made of). And only in Russia do honest sellers package blackening, most frightening-looking tablets in pharmacy packaging that stain your mouth and fingers. But it helps!

"What? Where? When?" and KVN


There are more quiz shows and competitions on television than you can eat. But only two games are our original projects, while the television workers bought the scripts for all the others from foreign companies. Just two. But the best and most beloved.

Dyeing easter eggs onions


Of course, this is all due to poverty. The Russian peasant usually did not have sufficient funds for gold foil and honey paints, so the poor decorated the eggs with what was at hand - onion peels. Sometimes they also wrapped the eggs with thread to create a cheerful pattern. But on the other hand, an egg properly boiled in onion solution turned out much tastier than usual, especially if the shell was slightly cracked.

Cup holders

At a time when glass was outrageously expensive, glass holders were ubiquitous - as armor and support for an unstable, expensive glass. When glass began to cost a ridiculous amount of pence and pfennings, the glass holders said goodbye to humanity, boarded a ship and sailed with beautiful songs to a fairyland. This happened everywhere except one big, big country. People there had to travel on trains for a very long time. And on the road, as you know, you really want tea, especially since in the country we are talking about, tea drinking has become national tradition. And then it turned out that you can’t do without a cup holder on a shaking train: it’s unpleasant when you are scalded with boiling water. Everyone is so accustomed to drinking tea from glasses with cup holders that they began to serve this drink in exactly the same way in their homes.

Buckwheat


Although the root “Greek” makes one suspect a Greek spy in this mess, she is truly ours. Ancient evidence of human consumption of buckwheat was found only in one place, in Altai. There are plenty of fossilized buckwheat grains in burials and sites. Apparently, it was from Altai that buckwheat spread throughout Asia - although without special success. Only the Japanese and Chinese partially retained it in their diet, adding mashed buckwheat to flour, and most peoples never really ate it. Nutritionists believe: the whole point here is that you need to get used to buckwheat from an early age, otherwise an adult, trying it for the first time buckwheat porridge, will feel bitterness and a chemical taste. So, except for us, no one really eats it or knows how to eat it. Although buckwheat is sold in Europe and the USA in all sorts of organic food stores, you can’t look at these bags without crying. The buckwheat in them is uncooked: green, crushed and good for nothing.

Doors opening inwards


The legend that in the USSR apartment doors open inward to make it easier for the KGB to knock them down during arrest is just a legend. The KGB officers opened the doors themselves - quietly and doomedly. And their location is a common thing for northern regions. Where a couple of meters of snow pile up on the porch overnight, you very quickly understand how to hang the doors if you intend to get out of the house before winter sets in.

Brine


Marinade - at least fill it up. You will never find simple cucumber pickle anywhere. Only here. It is not clear why export has not yet been established, tanks are not rushing, brine pipelines have not been laid. You might think we're the only ones who drink. Or was there no one yet ready to risk the liver of Prometheus, who would steal this secret from us and give it to humanity suffering from a hangover?


There are no such couple holidays anywhere. Is it only in Japan that our main sexual holidays slightly correspond to “boys’ holiday” and “girls’ holiday.” But there it is only for children, but here it is for everyone. No one has looked at the original meaning of these dates for a long time. On the day of the working woman, even those ladies who have not worked for five minutes in their lives receive gifts, but on the day Russian army nothing can save the most heroic draft dodgers from the new examples of socks, ties and razors in their private collection.

Zelenka


Perhaps there is not a single house in our country where there would not be at least one bottle of brilliant green. A magical remedy for everything: apply it and everything will go away. Hundreds of miraculous bubbles fly away from Domodedovo and Sheremetyevo airports every day. They fly to distant lands, to wild people who don’t know what brilliant green is. Western doctors have already learned to distinguish Russian children during examinations by mysterious green spots on their bodies. And as soon as they learned, they started screaming, because the kids found themselves smeared with such a mixture that not only was it poured on themselves, but it was also unsafe to look at from afar. Complete teratogens with carcinogens. Since then, all sorts of malicious Western commissions have continually demanded that the production of brilliant green be banned in Russia. But in a country where textbooks on obstetrics still recommend lubricating breastfeeding mothers’ nipples with green tea (against cracks), such proposals can be regarded as extreme blasphemy and, in some ways, even disgusting. Because this is already an attack on the foundations.

Pine nuts


The healthiest nuts are eaten only in Russia, which is not surprising. In order for them to reach the table of any citizen of the country, this country must have many thousands of square kilometers of taiga. But you cannot grow pine nuts industrially. Or they will have to be sold at a completely obscene price: the cedar tree needs too much space to produce its first ten modest cones after fifty years. True, we are now exporting pine nuts, but they are in no hurry to buy them en masse abroad: this exotic fruit is painfully unusual for local buyers.

They chose Russia: Stories from the lives of foreigners in the Russian Federation

" Hans, 11 years old, German. I don’t want to be a “German”!
The game of war itself jarred and even frightened me. I saw that Russian children were playing it enthusiastically even from the window of our new house in a large garden on the outskirts. It seemed crazy to me that boys 10-12 years old could play killing with such passion. I even talked about it with class teacher Hans, but she completely unexpectedly, after listening to me carefully, asked if Hans plays computer games with shooting and do I know what is shown on the screen? I was confused and couldn’t find an answer. At home, I mean, in Germany, I was not very happy with the fact that he sat a lot with such toys, but at least he was not drawn to the street, and I could be calm for him. Besides, computer game- this is not reality, but here everything happens to living children, doesn’t it? I even wanted to say this, but suddenly I acutely felt that I was wrong, for which I also did not have words. The class teacher looked at me very carefully, but kindly, and then said softly and confidentially: “Listen, it will be unusual for you here, understand. But your son is not you, he is a boy, and if you don’t stop him from growing up, like the children here, then nothing bad will happen to him - except maybe something unusual. But in fact, the bad things, I think, are the same both here and in Germany.” It seemed to me that this words of wisdom, and I calmed down a little.

Before, my son had never played war or even held a toy weapon in his hands. I must say that he did not often ask me for any gifts, being content with what I bought for him or what he himself bought with his pocket money. But then he very persistently began to ask me for a toy machine gun, because he doesn’t like playing with strangers, although one boy he really likes gives him a weapon - he named the boy, and I disliked this new friend in advance. But I didn’t want to refuse, especially since, having sat through the calculations from the very beginning, I realized an amazing thing: life in Russia is cheaper than here, it’s just that its external surroundings and some kind of carelessness and unkemptness are very unusual. On the May weekend (there are several of them) we went shopping; Hans's new friend joined us, and I was forced to change my opinion about him, although not immediately, because he appeared barefoot, and on the street, walking next to the boys, I was tense like a string - it seemed to me every second that now we will just be detained, and I will have to explain that I am not the mother of this boy. But despite his appearance, he turned out to be very well-mannered and cultured. In addition, in Australia I saw that many children also walk around in something like this.

The purchase was made with knowledge of the matter, with a discussion of weapons and even trying them on. I felt like the leader of a gang. In the end, we bought some kind of pistol (the boys called it, but I forgot) and a machine gun, exactly the same as what our German soldiers used in the last World War. Now my son was armed and could take part in hostilities.

Later I learned that the fighting itself caused him a lot of grief at first. The fact is that Russian children have a tradition of dividing into teams in this game with the names of real peoples - as a rule, those with whom the Russians fought. And, of course, it is considered honorable to be “Russian”; due to the division into teams, fights even break out. After Hans brought his new weapon into the game characteristic appearance- he was immediately registered as a “German”. I mean, into Hitler's Nazis, which, of course, he didn't want

They objected to him, and from a logical point of view it was quite reasonable: “Why don’t you want to, you’re German!” “But I’m not that German!” - my unfortunate son screamed. He had already watched several very unpleasant films on television and, although I understand that what was shown there is true, and we are actually to blame, it is difficult to explain this to an eleven-year-old boy: he flatly refused to be “that” German.

Hans, and the whole game, was helped out by that same boy, my son’s new friend. I convey his words as Hans conveyed them to me - apparently, verbatim: “Then you know what?! We will all fight against the Americans together!”
This is a completely crazy country. But I like it here, and so does my boy.

Max, 13 years old, German. Burglary from a neighbor's cellar (not the first burglary on his account, but the first in Russia)

The local police officer who came to us was very polite. This is generally a common thing among Russians - they treat foreigners from Europe timidly, politely, and warily; it takes a lot of time to be recognized as “one of their own.” But the things he said scared us. It turns out that Max committed a CRIMINAL OFFENSE - BURGAL! And we are lucky that he is not yet 14 years old, otherwise the question of a real prison term of up to five years could be considered! That is, from crime to full responsibility he was separated by the three days that remained until his birthday! We couldn't believe our ears. It turns out that in Russia, from the age of 14 you can actually go to prison! We regretted coming. To our timid questions - how is it possible, why should a child answer at such an age - the district police officer was surprised, we simply did not understand each other. We are used to the fact that in Germany a child is in a position of super-priority; the maximum that Max would face for this in his old homeland is a preventive conversation. However, the district police officer said that it was unlikely that the court would have given our son a real prison sentence even after 14 years; this is very rarely done the first time for crimes not related to an attempt on personal safety. We were also lucky that the neighbors did not write a statement (in Russia this plays a big role - more serious crimes are not considered without a statement from the injured party), and we don’t even have to pay a fine. This surprised us too - the combination of such a cruel law and such a strange position of people who do not want to use it. After hesitating just before leaving, the district police officer asked whether Max was generally prone to antisocial behavior. He had to admit that he was inclined, moreover, he didn’t like it in Russia, but this, of course, is connected with the period of growing up and should go away with age. To which the district police officer noted that the boy should have been torn out after his first prank, and that would be the end of it, and not wait until he grew into a thief. And left.

We were also struck by this wish from the mouth of the law enforcement officer. To be honest, we didn’t even think at that moment how close we were to fulfilling the officer’s wishes.

Immediately after he left, the husband talked to Max and demanded that he go to the neighbors, apologize and offer to work off the damage. A huge scandal began - Max flatly refused to do this. I won’t describe what happened next - after another very rude attack on our son, my husband did exactly as the district police officer advised. Now I realize that it looked and was more funny than it was actually harsh, but at the time it amazed me and shocked Max. When my husband let him go - himself shocked by what he had done - our son ran into the room. Apparently, it was catharsis - it suddenly dawned on him that his father was much stronger physically, that he had nowhere and no one to complain about “parental violence”, that he was REQUIRED to compensate for the damage himself, that he was one step away from a real trial and prison. In the room he cried, not for show, but for real. We sat in the living room like two statues, feeling like real criminals, moreover, taboo breakers. We waited for the demanding knock on the door. Terrible thoughts swarmed in our heads - that our son would stop trusting us, that he would commit suicide, that we had caused him severe mental trauma - in general, a lot of those words and formulas that we had learned in psychotrainings even before Max was born.

Max did not come out for dinner and shouted, still in tears, that he would eat in his room. To my surprise and horror, my husband replied that in this case Max wouldn’t get dinner, and if he didn’t sit at the table in a minute, he wouldn’t get breakfast either.

Max came out half a minute later. I've never seen him like this before. However, I didn’t see my husband like that either - he sent Max to wash and ordered, when he returned, to first ask for forgiveness, and then permission to sit at the table. I was amazed - Max did all this, gloomily, without raising his eyes to us. Before he started eating, the husband said: “Listen, son. Russians raise their children this way, and I will raise you this way. The nonsense is over. I don't want you to go to jail, I don't think you want that either, and you heard what the officer said. But I also don’t want you to grow up to be an insensitive slacker. And here I don’t care about your opinion. Tomorrow you will go to your neighbors with an apology and you will work where and how they say. Until you work off the amount you deprived them of. Do you understand me?"

Max was silent for several seconds. Then he looked up and answered quietly but clearly: “Yes, dad.”...

...You won’t believe it, but we not only no longer had the need for such wild scenes as the one that took place in the living room after the police officer left - it was as if our son had been replaced. At first I was even afraid of this change. It seemed to me that Max was holding a grudge. And only after more than a month I realized that there was nothing like that. And I also realized a much more important thing. In our house and at our expense lived for many years a small (and no longer very small) despot and slacker who did not trust us at all and did not look at us as friends, as those by whose methods we “raised” him convinced us “- he secretly despised us and skillfully used us. And it was we who were to blame for this - we were to blame for behaving with him the way the “authoritative specialists” inspired us to believe. On the other hand, did we have a choice in Germany? No, it wasn’t, I honestly tell myself. There, a ridiculous law stood guard over our fear and Max’s childish egoism. There is a choice here. We did it, and it turned out to be correct. We are happy, and most importantly, Max is really happy. He had parents. My husband and I have a son. And we have a FAMILY.
Mikko, 10 years old, Finnish. Snitched on classmates

Four of his classmates beat him up. As we understood, they didn’t beat us very badly, they knocked us down and hit us with backpacks. The reason was that Mikko came across two of them smoking in the garden behind the school. He was also offered to smoke, he refused and immediately informed the teacher about it. She punished little smokers by taking away their cigarettes and forcing them to wash the floors in the classroom (which in itself amazed us in this story). She didn’t name Mikko, but it was easy to guess who told about them.

The next day Mikko was beaten. Quite a lot. I couldn't find a place for myself. My husband also suffered, I saw it. But to our amazement and Mikko's joy, a day later there was no fight. He ran home very cheerful and excitedly told that he had done as his father ordered, and no one began to laugh, only someone muttered: “Enough, everyone has already heard...” The strangest thing in my opinion is that from that moment on the class He accepted our son completely as his own, and no one reminded him of that conflict.

Zorko, 13 years old, Serbian. About the carelessness of Russians

Zorko really liked the country itself. The fact is that he doesn’t remember what happens when there is no war, explosions, terrorists and other things. He was born just in time Patriotic War 99 and basically lived my whole life behind barbed wire in an enclave, and I had a machine gun hanging over my bed. Two shotguns with buckshot lay on a cabinet near the outer window. Until we registered two guns here, Zorko was in constant anxiety. He was also alarmed that the room’s windows overlooked the forest. In general, to find himself in a world where no one shoots except in the forest while hunting was a real revelation for him. Our eldest girl and younger brother Zorko accepted everything much faster and calmer due to their age.

But what struck and horrified my son most of all was that Russian children are incredibly careless. They are ready to be friends with anyone, as Russian adults say, “as long as the person is good.” Zorko quickly became friends with them, and the fact that he stopped living in constant anticipation of war is mainly their merit. But he never stopped carrying a knife with him, and even with his light hand almost all the boys in his class began to carry some kind of knives with them. Simply because boys are worse than monkeys, imitation is in their blood.

So this is about carelessness. There are several Muslims studying at the school from different nations. Russian children are friends with them. From the very first day, Zorko set a boundary between himself and the “Muslims” - he does not notice them, if they are far enough away, if they are nearby - he bullies, pushes them away in order to go somewhere, sharply and clearly threatens with beatings even in response to an ordinary glance, saying that they have no right to look up at the Serb and the “right-winger” in Russia. Such behavior caused amazement among Russian children; we even had some, although small, problems with the school authorities. These Muslims themselves are quite peaceful, I would even say polite people. I talked to my son, but he answered me that I wanted to deceive myself and that I myself told him that in Kosovo they were also polite and peaceful at first, while there were few of them. He also told Russian boys about this many times and kept repeating that they were too kind and too careless. He really likes it here, he literally thawed out, but at the same time my son is convinced that war awaits us here too. And, it seems, he is preparing to fight in earnest.

Ann, 16 years old and Bill, 12 years old, Americans. What is work?

Offers to work as a babysitter caused people either bewilderment or laughter. Ann was extremely upset and very surprised when I explained to her, having become interested in the problem, that it is not customary for Russians to hire people to supervise children over 7-10 years old - they play on their own, go for walks on their own, and generally outside of school or some kind of clubs and sections left to their own devices. And for the children younger age Most often they are observed by grandmothers, sometimes by mothers, and only for very young children do wealthy families sometimes hire nannies, but these are not high school girls, but women with solid experience who make a living from this.

So my daughter was left without income. A terrible loss. Terrible Russian customs.

Through a short time Bill was hit as well. Russians are a very strange people, they don’t mow their lawns and don’t hire children to deliver mail... The job that Bill found turned out to be “work on a plantation” - for five hundred rubles he spent half a day digging up a hefty vegetable garden with a hand shovel for some nice old lady. What he turned his hands into resembled bloody chops. However, unlike Ann, my son rather reacted to this with humor and already quite seriously noticed that this could become a good business once your hands get used to it, you just need to hang up advertisements, preferably in color. He offered to share with Ann the weeding - again, manually pulling out the weeds - and they immediately quarreled.

Charlie and Charlene, 9 years old, Americans. Peculiarities of the Russian worldview in rural areas.

Russians have two unpleasant characteristics. The first is that during a conversation they try to grab your elbow or shoulder. Secondly, they drink incredibly much. No, I know that in fact many peoples on Earth drink more than Russians. But Russians drink very openly and even with some pleasure.

However, these shortcomings seemed to be made up for by the wonderful area in which we settled. It was simply a fairy tale. True, the settlement itself resembled a settlement from a disaster movie. My husband said that it’s like this almost everywhere here and that you shouldn’t pay attention to it - the people here are good.

I didn't really believe it. And our twins were, it seemed to me, a little frightened by what was happening.

What completely horrified me was that on the very first day of school, when I was just about to pick up the twins in our car (it was about a mile to school), some not-so-sober man in a creepy, half-rusty jeep had already brought them straight to the house. , similar to old Fords. He apologized to me for a long time and in many words for something, referred to some holidays, showered praise on my children, said hello from someone and left. I attacked my innocent angels, who were vigorously and cheerfully discussing the first day of school, with strict questions: didn’t I tell them enough so that they NEVER DARED EVEN CLOSE TO STRANGER PEOPLE?! How could they get into this man’s car?!

In response, I heard that this was not a stranger, but the head of the school, who has golden hands and whom everyone loves very much, and whose wife works as a cook in the school canteen. I was frozen with horror. I gave my children to a brothel!!! And everything seemed so nice at first glance... Numerous stories from the press about the wild customs reigning in the Russian outback were spinning in my head...

...I won’t intrigue you any further. Life here has been truly wonderful, and especially wonderful for our children. Although I'm afraid I got a lot gray hair because of their behavior. It was incredibly difficult for me to get used to the very idea that my nine-year-old (and ten-year-old, and so on later) children, according to local customs, are considered, first of all, more than independent. They go for walks with the local kids for five, eight, ten hours - two, three, five miles away, into the forest or to a creepy, completely wild pond. That everyone here walks to and from school, and they also soon began to do the same - I simply don’t mention it anymore. And secondly, here children are largely considered common. They can, for example, go with the whole group to visit someone and immediately have lunch - not drink something and eat a couple of cookies, but have a hearty lunch, purely in Russian. In addition, virtually every woman who comes into her sight immediately takes responsibility for other people’s children, somehow completely automatically; For example, I learned to do this only in the third year of our stay here.

NOTHING EVER HAPPENS TO THE CHILDREN HERE. I mean - they are not in any danger from people. From none. In big cities, as far as I know, the situation is more similar to the American one, but here it is true and exactly like that. Of course, children themselves can cause considerable harm to themselves, and at first I tried to somehow control this, but it turned out to be simply impossible. At first I was amazed at how soulless our neighbors were, who, when asked where their child was, answered quite calmly, “He’s running around somewhere, he’ll be there by lunchtime!” Lord, in America this is a judicial matter, such an attitude! It took a long time before I realized that these women were much wiser than me, and their children were much more adjusted to life than mine - at least as they were in the beginning.

We Americans pride ourselves on our skills, abilities, and practicality. But, having lived here, I realized with sadness that this was a sweet self-deception. Maybe it was like that once. Now we - and especially our children - are slaves of a comfortable cage, into the bars of which a current is passed that completely does not allow the normal, free development of a person in our society. If the Russians are somehow weaned off drinking, they will easily and without firing a single shot conquer the entire modern world. I declare this responsibly.

Adolf Breivik, 35 years old, Swede. Father of three children.

The fact that Russian adults can quarrel and make scandals, that under the influence of a hot hand they can blow up a wife, and a wife can whip a child with a towel - BUT AT THE SAME TIME THEY ALL REALLY LOVE EACH OTHER AND THEY FEEL BAD WITHOUT ANOTHER - in the head of a person converted to the standards accepted in our native lands simply do not fit. I won’t say that I approve of this; this is the behavior of many Russians. I don't think that beating your wife and physically punishing your children is Right way, and I myself have never done this and will not do it. But I just urge you to understand: family here is not just a word. Children run away from Russian orphanages to their parents. From our slyly named “replacement families” - almost never. Our children are so accustomed to the fact that they essentially do not have parents, that they calmly obey everything that any adult does to them. They are not capable of rebellion, escape, or resistance, even when it comes to their life or health - they are accustomed to the fact that they are the property not of the family, but of EVERYONE AT ONCE.

Russian children are running. They often flee into appalling living conditions. At the same time, in Russian orphanages it is not at all as scary as we are used to imagining. Regular and plentiful meals, computers, entertainment, care and supervision. Nevertheless, escapes “home” are very, very frequent and meet with full understanding even among those who, on duty, return children back to Orphanage. “What do you want? - they say words that are completely unimaginable for our police officer or guardianship worker. “That’s where the HOUSE is.” But we must take into account that in Russia there is not even close to the anti-family tyranny that reigns here. For a Russian child to be taken to an orphanage - to his family of origin it actually has to be HORRIBLE, trust me.

It is difficult for us to understand that, in general, a child who is often beaten by his father, but at the same time takes him fishing with him and teaches him to use tools and tinker with a car or motorcycle, can be much happier and in fact much happier than a child whom his father never laid a finger on, but whom he sees for fifteen minutes a day at breakfast and dinner. This will sound seditious to a modern Westerner, but it’s true, believe my experience as a resident of two paradoxical different countries. We tried so hard, at someone’s unkind orders, to create a “safe world” for our children that we destroyed everything human in ourselves and in them. Only in Russia did I really understand, with horror, that all those words that are used in my old homeland, destroying families, are in fact a mixture of utter stupidity, generated by a sick mind and the most disgusting cynicism, generated by the thirst for rewards and the fear of losing one’s place in the guardianship authorities. By talking about “protecting children”, officials in Sweden - and not only in Sweden - are destroying their souls. They destroy shamelessly and madly. There I couldn't say it openly. Here I say: my unfortunate homeland is seriously ill with abstract, speculative “children’s rights”, for the sake of which happy families are killed and living children are maimed.

Home, father, mother - for a Russian these are not just words and concepts. These are words-symbols, almost sacred spells.

It's amazing that we don't have this. We don't feel connected to the place we live in, even a very comfortable place. We don't feel a connection with our children, they don't need a connection with us. And, in my opinion, all this was taken from us on purpose. This is one of the reasons why I came here. In Russia, I can feel like a father and husband, my wife - a mother and wife, our children - beloved children. We are people free people, and not hired employees of a state corporation with limited liability"Family". And it's very nice. It's comfortable purely psychologically. To such an extent that it makes up for a whole bunch of shortcomings and absurdities of life here.

Honestly, I believe that there is a brownie living in our house, left over from the previous owners. Russian brownie, kind. And our children believe in it."

I collected into a single feed the opinions of foreign parents who live in Russia with their children. Foreigners are struck by one thing, but we are struck by another. What, from the point of view of our parent, is taken for granted as correct, seemed to foreigners not only to be wrong, but also not acceptable. However, over time, foreigners realized that our family-oriented upbringing is a necessary element that has long been removed from the arsenal of parents in the “liberal” West.

Hans, 11 years old, German. I don't want to be "German"!

The game of war itself jarred and even frightened me. I saw that Russian children were playing it enthusiastically even from the window of our new house in a large garden on the outskirts. It seemed crazy to me that boys 10-12 years old could play killing with such passion. I even talked about this with Hans’s class teacher, but quite unexpectedly, after listening to me carefully, she asked if Hans plays computer games with shooting and do I know what is shown on the screen?

I was confused and couldn’t find an answer. At home, I mean, in Germany, I was not very happy with the fact that he sat a lot with such toys, but at least he was not drawn to the street, and I could be calm for him. Besides, a computer game is not reality, but here everything happens to living children, doesn’t it? I even wanted to say this, but suddenly I acutely felt that I was wrong, for which I also did not have words.

The class teacher looked at me very carefully, but kindly, and then said softly and confidentially: “Listen, it will be unusual for you here, understand. But your son is not you, he is a boy, and if you do not interfere with his growth, like the children here, nothing bad will happen to him - except perhaps something unusual. But in fact, bad things, I think, are the same here and in Germany." It seemed to me that these were wise words, and I calmed down a little.

Before, my son had never played war or even held a toy weapon in his hands. I must say that he did not often ask me for any gifts, being content with what I bought for him or what he himself bought with his pocket money. But then he very persistently began to ask me for a toy machine gun, because he doesn’t like playing with strangers, although one boy he really likes gives him a weapon - he named the boy, and I disliked this new friend in advance. But I didn’t want to refuse, especially since, having sat through the calculations from the very beginning, I realized an amazing thing: life in Russia is cheaper than here, it’s just that its external surroundings and some kind of carelessness and unkemptness are very unusual. On the May weekend (there are several of them) we went shopping; Hans's new friend joined us, and I was forced to change my opinion about him, although not immediately, because he appeared barefoot, and on the street, walking next to the boys, I was tense like a string - it seemed to me every second that now we will just be detained, and I will have to explain that I am not the mother of this boy. But despite his appearance, he turned out to be very well-mannered and cultured. In addition, in Australia I saw that many children also walk around in something like this.

The purchase was made with knowledge of the matter, with a discussion of weapons and even trying them on. I felt like the leader of a gang. In the end, we bought some kind of pistol (the boys called it, but I forgot) and a machine gun, exactly the same as what our German soldiers used in the last World War. Now my son was armed and could take part in hostilities.

Later I learned that the fighting itself caused him a lot of grief at first. The fact is that Russian children have a tradition of dividing into teams in this game with the names of real peoples - as a rule, those with whom the Russians fought. And, of course, it is considered honorable to be “Russian”; due to the division into teams, fights even break out. After Hans brought his new weapon of such a characteristic look into the game, he was immediately recorded as a “German”. I mean, into Hitler's Nazis, which, of course, he didn't want.

They objected to him, and from a logical point of view it was quite reasonable: “Why don’t you want to, you’re German!” "But I'm not that German!" - my unfortunate son screamed. He had already watched several very unpleasant films on television and, although I understand that what was shown there is true, and we are actually to blame, it is difficult to explain this to an eleven-year-old boy: he flatly refused to be “that” German.

Hans, and the whole game, was helped out by that same boy, my son’s new friend. I convey his words as Hans conveyed them to me - apparently, verbatim: “Then you know what?! We will all fight together against the Americans!”

This is a completely crazy country. But I like it here, and so does my boy.

Max, 13 years old, German. Burglary from a neighbor's cellar (not the first burglary on his account, but the first in Russia)

The local police officer who came to us was very polite. This is generally a common thing among Russians - they treat foreigners from Europe timidly, politely, and warily; it takes a lot of time to be recognized as “one of their own.” But the things he said scared us. It turns out that Max committed a CRIMINAL OFFENSE - BURGAL! And we are lucky that he is not yet 14 years old, otherwise the question of a real prison term of up to five years could be considered! That is, the three days that remained before his birthday separated him from the crime of full responsibility! We couldn't believe our ears. It turns out that in Russia, from the age of 14 you can actually go to prison! We regretted coming. To our timid questions - how is it possible, why should a child answer at such an age - the district police officer was surprised, we simply did not understand each other.

We are used to the fact that in Germany a child is in a position of super-priority; the maximum that Max would face for this in his old homeland is a preventive conversation. However, the district police officer said that it was unlikely that the court would have given our son a real prison sentence even after 14 years; this is very rarely done the first time for crimes not related to an attempt on personal safety. We were also lucky that the neighbors did not write a statement (in Russia this plays a big role - more serious crimes are not considered without a statement from the injured party), and we don’t even have to pay a fine. This surprised us too - the combination of such a cruel law and such a strange position of people who do not want to use it. After hesitating just before leaving, the district police officer asked whether Max was generally prone to antisocial behavior. He had to admit that he was inclined, moreover, he didn’t like it in Russia, but this, of course, is connected with the period of growing up and should go away with age. To which the district police officer noted that the boy should have been torn out after his first prank, and that would be the end of it, and not wait until he grew into a thief. And left.

We were also struck by this wish from the mouth of the law enforcement officer. To be honest, we didn’t even think at that moment how close we were to fulfilling the officer’s wishes.

Immediately after he left, the husband talked to Max and demanded that he go to the neighbors, apologize and offer to work off the damage. A huge scandal began - Max flatly refused to do this. I won’t describe what happened next - after another very rude attack on our son, my husband did exactly as the district police officer advised.

Now I realize that it looked and was more funny than it was actually harsh, but at the time it amazed me and shocked Max. When my husband let him go - himself shocked by what he had done - our son ran into the room. Apparently, it was catharsis - it suddenly dawned on him that his father was much stronger physically, that he had nowhere and no one to complain about “parental violence”, that he was REQUIRED to compensate for the damage himself, that he was one step away from a real trial and prison. In the room he cried, not for show, but for real. We sat in the living room like two statues, feeling like real criminals, moreover, taboo breakers. We waited for the demanding knock on the door. Terrible thoughts swarmed in our heads - that our son would stop trusting us, that he would commit suicide, that we had caused him severe mental trauma - in general, a lot of those words and formulas that we had learned in psychotrainings even before Max was born.

Max did not come out for dinner and shouted, still in tears, that he would eat in his room. To my surprise and horror, my husband replied that in this case Max wouldn’t get dinner, and if he didn’t sit at the table in a minute, he wouldn’t get breakfast either.

Max came out half a minute later. I've never seen him like this before. However, I didn’t see my husband like that either - he sent Max to wash and ordered, when he returned, to first ask for forgiveness, and then permission to sit at the table. I was amazed - Max did all this, gloomily, without raising his eyes to us. Before he started eating, the husband said: “Listen, son. Russians raise their children this way, and I will raise you this way. The nonsense is over. I don’t want you to go to jail, I think you don’t want it either, and you heard what the officer said. But I also don’t want you to grow up to be an insensitive slacker. And here I don’t care about your opinion. Tomorrow you will go to your neighbors with an apology and work where and how they say. Until you repay the amount you deprived them of. Do you understand me?”

Max was silent for several seconds. Then he looked up and answered quietly but clearly: “Yes, dad.”

You won’t believe it, but not only did we no longer need such wild scenes as the one that took place in the living room after the police officer left, it was as if our son had been replaced. At first I was even afraid of this change. It seemed to me that Max was holding a grudge. And only after more than a month I realized that there was nothing like that. And I also realized a much more important thing. In our house and at our expense lived for many years a small (and no longer very small) despot and slacker who did not trust us at all and did not look at us as friends, as those by whose methods we “raised” him convinced us “He secretly despised us and skillfully used us. And it was we who were to blame for this - we were to blame for behaving with him the way the “authoritative specialists” inspired us to believe. On the other hand, did we have a choice in Germany? No, it wasn’t, I honestly tell myself. There, a ridiculous law stood guard over our fear and Max’s childish egoism. There is a choice here. We did it, and it turned out to be correct. We are happy, and most importantly, Max is really happy. He had parents. My husband and I have a son. And we have a FAMILY.

Mikko, 10 years old, Finnish. Snitched on classmates

Four of his classmates beat him up. As we understood, they didn’t beat us very badly, they knocked us down and hit us with backpacks. The reason was that Mikko came across two of them smoking in the garden behind the school. He was also offered to smoke, he refused and immediately informed the teacher about it. She punished little smokers by taking away their cigarettes and forcing them to wash the floors in the classroom (which in itself amazed us in this story). She didn’t name Mikko, but it was easy to guess who told about them.

He was completely upset and not so much even worried about the beatings as he was perplexed - shouldn’t you report such things to the teacher?! I had to explain to him that it is not customary for Russian children to do this; on the contrary, it is customary to remain silent about such things, even if adults ask directly. We were also angry with ourselves - we did not explain this to our son. I suggested that my husband tell the teacher or talk to the parents of those who participated in the attack on Mikko, however, after discussing this issue, we decided against such actions.

Meanwhile, our son could not find a place for himself. “But then it turns out that now they will despise me?!” - he asked. He was terrified. He was like a man who had been taken by aliens and discovered that he knew nothing of their laws. And we could not advise him anything, because nothing from previous experience told us what to do. I personally was angry at some kind of Russian double morality here - is it really possible to teach children to tell the truth and then immediately teach them that they cannot tell the truth?!

The next day Mikko was beaten. Quite a lot. I couldn't find a place for myself. My husband also suffered, I saw it. But to our amazement and Mikko's joy, a day later there was no fight. He ran home very cheerful and excitedly told that he had done as his father ordered, and no one began to laugh, only someone muttered: “Enough, everyone has already heard...” The strangest thing in my opinion is that from this At that moment, the class accepted our son completely as one of their own, and no one reminded him of that conflict.

Zorko, 13 years old, Serbian. About the carelessness of Russians

Zorko really liked the country itself. The fact is that he doesn’t remember what happens when there is no war, explosions, terrorists and other things. He was born just during the Patriotic War of 1999 and practically lived his entire life behind barbed wire in an enclave, and a machine gun hung above my bed. Two shotguns with buckshot lay on a cabinet near the outer window. Until we registered two guns here, Zorko was in constant anxiety. He was also alarmed that the room’s windows overlooked the forest. In general, to find himself in a world where no one shoots except in the forest while hunting was a real revelation for him. Our eldest girl and younger brother Zorko accepted everything much faster and calmer due to their age.

But what struck and horrified my son most of all was that Russian children are incredibly careless. They are ready to be friends with anyone, as Russian adults say, “as long as the person is good.” Zorko quickly became friends with them, and the fact that he stopped living in constant anticipation of war is mainly their merit. But he never stopped carrying a knife with him, and even with his light hand, almost all the boys in his class began to carry some kind of knives with them. Simply because boys are worse than monkeys, imitation is in their blood.

So this is about carelessness. There are several Muslims from different nations studying at the school. Russian children are friends with them. From the very first day, Zorko set a boundary between himself and the “Muslims” - he does not notice them, if they are far enough away, if they are nearby - he bullies, pushes them away in order to go somewhere, sharply and clearly threatens with beatings even in response to an ordinary glance, saying that they have no right to look up at the Serb and the “right-winger” in Russia. Such behavior caused amazement among Russian children; we even had some, although small, problems with the school authorities. These Muslims themselves are quite peaceful, I would even say polite people. I talked to my son, but he answered me that I wanted to deceive myself and that I myself told him that in Kosovo they were also polite and peaceful at first, while there were few of them. He also told Russian boys about this many times and kept repeating that they were too kind and too careless. He really likes it here, he literally thawed out, but at the same time my son is convinced that war awaits us here too. And, it seems, he is preparing to fight in earnest.

Ann, 16 years old and Bill, 12 years old, Americans. What is work?

Offers to work as a babysitter caused people either bewilderment or laughter. Ann was extremely upset and very surprised when I explained to her, having become interested in the problem, that it is not customary for Russians to hire people to supervise children over 7-10 years old - they play on their own, go for walks on their own, and generally outside of school or some kind of clubs and sections left to their own devices. And younger children are most often looked after by grandmothers, sometimes by mothers, and only for very young children do wealthy families sometimes hire nannies, but these are not high school girls, but women with solid experience who make a living from this.

So my daughter was left without income. A terrible loss. Terrible Russian customs.

A short time later, Bill was hit as well. Russians are a very strange people; they don’t mow their lawns and don’t hire children to deliver mail. The job that Bill found turned out to be “work on a plantation” - for five hundred rubles he spent half a day digging up a hefty vegetable garden for some nice old lady with a hand shovel. What he turned his hands into resembled bloody chops. However, unlike Ann, my son rather reacted to this with humor and already quite seriously noticed that this could become a good business once your hands get used to it, you just need to hang up advertisements, preferably in color. He offered to share with Ann the weeding - again, manually pulling out the weeds - and they immediately quarreled.

Charlie and Charlene, 9 years old, Americans. Peculiarities of the Russian worldview in rural areas.

Russians have two unpleasant characteristics. The first is that during a conversation they try to grab your elbow or shoulder. Secondly, they drink incredibly much. No, I know that in fact many peoples on Earth drink more than Russians. But Russians drink very openly and even with some pleasure.

However, these shortcomings seemed to be made up for by the wonderful area in which we settled. It was simply a fairy tale. True, the settlement itself resembled a settlement from a disaster movie. My husband said that it’s like this almost everywhere here and that you shouldn’t pay attention to it - the people here are good.

I didn't really believe it. And our twins were, it seemed to me, a little frightened by what was happening.

What completely horrified me was that on the very first day of school, when I was just about to pick up the twins in our car (it was about a mile to school), some not-so-sober man in a creepy, half-rusty jeep had already brought them straight to the house. , similar to old Fords. He apologized to me for a long time and in many words for something, referred to some holidays, showered praise on my children, said hello from someone and left. I attacked my innocent angels, who were vigorously and cheerfully discussing the first day of school, with strict questions: didn’t I tell them enough so that they NEVER DARED EVEN CLOSE TO STRANGER PEOPLE?! How could they get into this man’s car?!

In response, I heard that this was not a stranger, but the head of the school, who has golden hands and whom everyone loves very much, and whose wife works as a cook in the school canteen. I was frozen with horror. I gave my children to a brothel!!! And everything seemed so nice at first glance... Numerous stories from the press about the wild customs reigning in the Russian outback were spinning in my head...

I won't intrigue you further. Life here has been truly wonderful, and especially wonderful for our children. Although I'm afraid I've gotten quite a few gray hairs from their behavior. It was incredibly difficult for me to get used to the very idea that my nine-year-old (and ten-year-old, and so on later) children, according to local customs, are considered, first of all, more than independent. They go for walks with the local kids for five, eight, ten hours - two, three, five miles away, into the forest or to a creepy, completely wild pond. That everyone here walks to and from school, and they also soon began to do the same - I simply don’t mention it anymore. And secondly, here children are largely considered common. They can, for example, go with the whole group to visit someone and immediately have lunch - not drink something and eat a couple of cookies, but have a hearty lunch, purely in Russian. In addition, virtually every woman who comes into her sight immediately takes responsibility for other people’s children, somehow completely automatically; For example, I learned to do this only in the third year of our stay here.

NOTHING EVER HAPPENS TO THE CHILDREN HERE. I mean - they are not in any danger from people. From none. In big cities, as far as I know, the situation is more similar to the American one, but here it is true and exactly like that. Of course, children themselves can cause considerable harm to themselves, and at first I tried to somehow control this, but it turned out to be simply impossible. At first I was amazed at how soulless our neighbors were, who, when asked where their child was, answered quite calmly, “He’s running around somewhere, he’ll be there by lunchtime!” Lord, in America this is a judicial matter, such an attitude! It took a long time before I realized that these women were much wiser than me, and their children were much more adjusted to life than mine - at least as they were in the beginning.

We Americans pride ourselves on our skills, abilities, and practicality. But, having lived here, I realized with sadness that this was a sweet self-deception. Maybe it was like that once. Now we - and especially our children - are slaves of a comfortable cage, into the bars of which a current is passed that completely does not allow the normal, free development of a person in our society. If Russians are somehow weaned off drinking, they will easily and without firing a shot conquer the entire modern world. I declare this responsibly.

Adolf Breivik, 35 years old, Swede. Father of three children.

The fact that Russian adults can quarrel and make scandals, that under the influence of a hot hand they can blow up a wife, and a wife can whip a child with a towel - BUT AT THE SAME TIME THEY ALL REALLY LOVE EACH OTHER AND THEY FEEL BAD WITHOUT ANOTHER - in the head of a person converted to the standards accepted in our native lands simply do not fit. I won’t say that I approve of this; this is the behavior of many Russians. I do not believe that beating your wife and physically punishing your children is the right way, and I myself have never done this and will not do it. But I just urge you to understand: family here is not just a word. Children run away from Russian orphanages to their parents. From our slyly named “replacement families” - almost never. Our children are so accustomed to the fact that they essentially do not have parents, that they calmly obey everything that any adult does to them. They are not capable of rebellion, escape, or resistance, even when it comes to their life or health - they are accustomed to the fact that they are the property not of the family, but of EVERYONE AT ONCE.

Russian children are running. They often flee into appalling living conditions. At the same time, in Russian orphanages it is not at all as scary as we are used to imagining. Regular and plentiful meals, computers, entertainment, care and supervision. Nevertheless, escapes “home” are very, very frequent and meet with full understanding even among those who, on duty, return children back to the orphanage. “What do you want?” they say, words that are completely unimaginable for our policeman or guardianship worker. “There’s a HOUSE there.” But we must take into account that in Russia there is not even close to the anti-family tyranny that reigns here. For a Russian child to be taken to an orphanage, it must actually be HORRIBLE in his family of origin, believe me.

It is difficult for us to understand that, in general, a child who is often beaten by his father, but at the same time takes him fishing with him and teaches him to use tools and tinker with a car or motorcycle, can be much happier and in fact much happier than a child whom his father never laid a finger on, but whom he sees for fifteen minutes a day at breakfast and dinner. This will sound seditious to a modern Westerner, but it is true, believe my experience as a resident of two paradoxically different countries. We tried so hard, at someone’s unkind orders, to create a “safe world” for our children that we destroyed everything human in ourselves and in them. Only in Russia did I really understand, with horror, that all those words that are used in my old homeland, destroying families, are in fact a mixture of utter stupidity, generated by a sick mind and the most disgusting cynicism, generated by the thirst for rewards and the fear of losing one’s place in the guardianship authorities. By talking about "protecting children", officials in Sweden - and not only in Sweden - are destroying their souls. They destroy shamelessly and madly. There I couldn't say it openly. Here I say: my unfortunate homeland is seriously ill with abstract, speculative “children’s rights”, for the sake of which happy families are killed and living children are maimed.

Home, father, mother - for a Russian these are not just words and concepts. These are words-symbols, almost sacred spells.

It's amazing that we don't have this. We don't feel connected to the place we live in, even a very comfortable place. We don't feel a connection with our children, they don't need a connection with us. And, in my opinion, all this was taken from us on purpose. This is one of the reasons why I came here. In Russia, I can feel like a father and husband, my wife - a mother and wife, our children - beloved children. We are people, free people, and not hired employees of the state limited liability corporation "Family". And it's very nice. It is comfortable purely psychologically. To such an extent that it makes up for a whole bunch of shortcomings and absurdities of life here.

Honestly, I believe that there is a brownie living in our house, left over from the previous owners. Russian brownie, kind. And our children believe in it."

😆Tired of serious articles? Cheer yourself up