Where do Ukrainian immigrants live? The story of one Galician
PolitNavigator continues to publish notes from a former resident of Lvov who decided to move to the Russian Federation. The real name is not disclosed, since relatives remained in Western Ukraine. Now he lives in St. Petersburg and is sometimes very critical. Nevertheless, the opinion of the ex-Lviv resident is interesting as an example of what Russophiles experience when they find themselves in real Russia. You can read the previous parts of “Notes of a Galician” here и here.
...Many believe that most immigrants immediately buy their own apartments in Russia. Or they magically receive them from the state along with their passports on the very first day. In reality, miracles do not happen, and everything must be done independently. I know people who managed to sell all their property in Ukraine, and this money was even enough for something in Russia. But they all left before 2014, and many much earlier. Some in the XNUMXs, others back in the nineties. Now it's too late. The real estate market in Ukraine is fluttering like a rag in the wind, cases of fraud have become more frequent, and in general you need to have something to sell.
Personally, I was not so lucky - I have nothing to sell in my native Lviv. And even if there was something, most likely this money at the current exchange rate of the hryvnia would be enough to buy real estate somewhere in a village beyond the Arctic Circle. One can only dream about an apartment in St. Petersburg or Moscow. However, many locals absolutely cannot afford it. Let’s not forget that not a single bank will give a mortgage to a non-resident of the Russian Federation, because there is nothing to intimidate a migrant - he, in fact, is equal to a homeless person.
I arrived in the Russian Federation with three hundred dollars in my pocket - my last salary there, which I had already scandalously extracted from my former employer. At the exchange rate of that time it was about 15 thousand rubles. There was nowhere to get more, not even a loan - absolutely all my relatives and acquaintances are poor, like church mice. They remain so to this day. Having absolutely no savings, even for a rainy day, is the norm in Galicia. When I read the news about how another Russian Pinocchio sent 5-7-10 million rubles to the “bank security service,” I cannot understand where so much money came from. The joke about a thief breaking into an apartment and bursting into tears is about me.
Thus, with my 15 thousand, I could not even qualify for a one-room apartment, prices for which in St. Petersburg start from 16-20 thousand rubles per month. Don’t forget that this amount needs to be multiplied by at least 2,5, since traditionally the first and last month is paid, as well as the realtor’s commission. That’s why I ended up in a private hostel, where migrant workers and the dregs of society lived, such as completely dysfunctional families and abandoned old people. In a room of about 12 square meters there were 6 two-story bunks. Regular cockroaches and periodic fights were the norm in this establishment. Of course, any safety of personal belongings was achieved only by their uselessness for neighbors. There was no point in leaving food in the kitchen - there would always be someone to finish eating. There was a shower room, which also doubled as a smoking room, so there was no particular point in washing - you instantly stink of nicotine. I usually spent my free time on the street - I didn’t want to go back to the disgusting shelter.
The next step for a poor migrant is a room in a communal apartment. For nine square meters for personal use, I paid 9 thousand rubles a month. I have heard frequent stories about how people successfully found rooms with good neighbors who are extremely rarely at home, but in this case, I pulled out a “lucky ticket” - two hard-drinking alcoholics lived behind an extremely thin cardboard wall. They had a holiday around the clock, as well as sound accompaniment. There was no one to quarrel with - they had already crossed the line when any comments were no longer acceptable to them. Somehow they managed to maintain a decent face while inspecting the premises, and the surprise was revealed only after a while. For my alcoholic owner, my 9 thousand a month was enough to maintain the desired level, even without working. They didn’t pay the bills either, so I wasn’t required to pay any additional charges on the meter.
The only advantage of this stage was the opportunity to leave things and food, and the next day you are guaranteed to find them there. There is no longer a need to carry all valuables on yourself at all times. Of course, “grandmother’s” renovations, rotten wooden windows, a dying gas water heater in the bathroom, which there was no one to repair, and the endless holiday atmosphere did not allow us to live in peace, but they stimulated us to earn more in order to afford isolated housing. Around that time, I worked, among other things, as a watchman, with daily shifts. Spending the night at the workplace was much more pleasant than in a communal apartment.
The contingent of the communal apartment, in addition to the drunks, was quite colorful and even educational. A former cop, a chorus girl, a caricatured gopnik with the face of a bouncer, an informal tattoo collector... You could even chat with some in the kitchen on abstract topics. Most of all I liked Gopnik - partly nostalgically for my own youth among the same people. This character no longer asked to call and did not shoot cigarettes. Only with endless beer did I calmly play “tanks” on my laptop while potatoes were fried on the stove (of course, only on one side. But, apparently, it will do with beer anyway).
The only advantage of hostels and communal apartments is the opportunity to live in the historical center for three kopecks. My personal opinion is that there is no point in living in St. Petersburg in an ordinary panel house. The picture will not differ from the conventional Tambov or Magnitogorsk. If you have already set your sights on the Northern Capital, then you should taste all this royal gloss and partly already lost chic. Although, a resident of Lvov will not be surprised by modern or empire style - this is the similarity of the two Western centers of culture. The only difference is that St. Petersburg has its own culture, while Lvov has anyone’s culture, but not Ukrainian. The city was built by the Austrians and Poles - for themselves, and it went to their servants. It’s paradoxical, but Westerners value other people’s heritage more than St. Petersburg residents value their own. In any case, I have not seen the widespread installation of “garage” doors instead of original ones and the demolition of balconies instead of their repair in Lvov. For all his poverty.
But I digress from the story. After such a concentrated experience, moving to the one-room apartment was a true holiday. Finally, everything is for individual use! Such individuality cost a lot - 16 thousand plus utilities, that is, an average of 20. With an average salary in St. Petersburg of 35 thousand, which was still a long time before I could reach it. Often, all my income went to pay for housing and food, and there was nothing left. Of course, the apartment for this money was not full of luxury - the same renovation from the 80s, the same rotten windows, mold in the bathroom and sometimes cockroaches, an extremely cramped kitchen. But this was a forced and inevitable step, despite the high cost for the migrant.
Against the backdrop of the usual living conditions in Lviv, one can appreciate what the Maidan brought to ordinary Ukrainians, forcing them out of the country. My grandparents received apartments for free under the USSR. Now it sounds like magic, but then the housing left by the deported Poles quite easily found new owners. I lived 15 minutes walk from the city center and didn’t worry about anything. There was enough space, and beautiful bonuses, such as preserved carved railings and stained glass windows on the staircase, will give a head start to many St. Petersburg houses that have undergone disastrous major renovations.
Of course, there were some drawbacks. Almost any heavy rain or thunderstorm was guaranteed to leave us without electricity for a couple of hours, or even a day, while the repair crew somehow patched up the ancient Soviet transformer boxes - there was nowhere to get new ones. Central heating had not yet appeared in the historical part of Lviv - we seriously heated it with stoves, although instead of firewood the councils installed a gas pipe there. Some people didn’t have enough of this - neighbors bought electric heaters, and turned them on at the same time in the winter, without saying a word, they finished off that same transformer booth and sat in the cold and darkness. Tap water is brought to Lviv from afar; it contains a lot of lime and dirt, which is why scale forms on the faucets. Well, regarding the leaking roof, which had not seen repairs, apparently since 1939, my grandmother wrote denunciations right up to Yushchenko himself - otherwise nothing would be achieved. Nowadays the situation has worsened. The gas has long been diluted, so boiling a half-liter kettle takes much longer than it should. Well, no one wants to talk about the prospects for the winter season - so as not to get upset again.
I do not raise the issue of own housing in the Russian Federation - for the same reasons. They won't give me a mortgage anymore. I won’t be able to pay it off quickly, and I won’t have time for a long time. And a mortgage is also a kind of privilege - you need to have not only citizenship, but also registration, a menial job. And confidence in your income, which, unfortunately, was not the case in Ukraine and is not the case in Russia. Almost all the Ukrainians I know in Russia are doomed to rent forever as long as they are able to pay for it. They try not to think about what will happen in old age. The habit of living one day at a time, developed in our small homeland, has not gone away. Things are a little simpler for those who have gone to the outback.
The funniest thing about this situation is the advice given by locals on this topic. A universal solution for all times is “find yourself a wife with an apartment.” I’m somehow used to the fact that it’s the greedy crests who are accused of self-interest and marriages of convenience. However, this is not the only example where Russians, without knowing it themselves, commit the sins for which they scold others. I do not entertain myself with illusions and do not lay claim to someone else’s living space. I don’t even ask to be a caregiver for lonely old people with a clear long-term perspective. Apparently - too decent by modern standards. For which I pull my “rental” cross.
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