Мы - Все Мигранты (We’re All Migrants)

By: Travis Richardson

November 12, 2013

The population of St. Petersburg, Russia appears to be rather homogenous. Ethnic Russians form the vast majority, but for the prominence of St. Petersburg, bilingual Peterburgers are surprisingly rare. As a Russian student, this is a perfect opportunity to interact with my new community. For the immigrant seeking a prosperous life, however, the process of assimilation to Russian life comes at the expense of derision and hardship.

My perception is that Russian society lacks tolerance for foreigners and suffers from widespread xenophobia. Much of the negativity is directed toward immigrants hailing from of the Commonwealth of Independent States, a political and economic union between Russia and former USSR entities. Russia’s guest worker program attracts thousands from Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, and the hope of personal safety is the driving factor for those leaving war-torn Kyrgyzstan.

The reasons for immigrating to Russia vary: financial security, government stability, hope for a brighter tomorrow. Yet a different reality greets those who resettle here. They are plagued by negative stereotypes and belittling generalizations that have entrenched themselves into the minds of Russians. Such stereotypes can stymie an immigrant’s chances of building a better life. My host mother seizes every opportunity to demean the Uzbek work ethic. My Russian acquaintances refuse to walk on the same side of the street when a Tajik man approaches, because they are all “dirty people” and “drug dealers and addicts.”

As I acclimate myself to daily Russian life and observe society with foreign eyes, I see that these stereotypes are completely unfounded. How, dear host mother, can you say that the Uzbeks have no work ethic when I see them toiling each day with the jobs no Russian cares to do? Forty-seven percent of the immigrant work force is employed in the “services sector”—including custodial work and home cleaning services. Why, wonderful Russian friends, do you write off the Tajiks as criminals when only five percent of annual crime in St. Petersburg is committed by migrants?

Confronting these typecasts in Russia reminds me of my Alternative Spring Break trip last March. I participated in the Kino Border Initiative along the Arizona-Mexico frontier. The most life-altering experience of the program was spending a day in Nogales, Mexico, assisting the Jesuits running a soup kitchen for deported migrants. The kitchen is a small, makeshift building resting no more than a foot away from the highway and hewn into the side of a clay hill. Yet for the migrant, it is the first place where they are welcome; they can take solace in the words emblazoned upon the rocky interior: “Todos somos migrantes” (We’re all migrants).

I find great truth in this statement—we are all migrants before God. We are transient beings passing through life on our way to yet another destination. From our conception to our death, we are never still; our actions either propel us forward or knock us back. In either situation, we are migrants roaming not just through space, but through time, until we reach our end where God holds us accountable for our migration through life.

In this way I feel a certain connection with the migrants in St. Petersburg. Like them, I am a stranger trying to acclimate. However, I have the luxury of leaving. When I have a rough day, I take comfort in the fact that a semester flies by, and soon I will return home. Yet for the migrant, there is no home. Considering conditions which make it impossible to thrive in their homeland and attitudes making them less than welcome in Russia, I fear that migrants are stuck in a sort of limbo. Because of this, I commend the immigrants of this city. They made the decision to leave the familiarity of their homes to travel to an unforgiving land to create a purposeful life. The Uzbeks come for work and the Byelorussians come to escape dictatorship, but all come in the hope that Russia will provide opportunity.

I feel like it is wrong for me to criticize any cultural aspect that I come across in Russia, especially as a guest in this remarkable, mysteriously intriguing country. Yet, it is becoming ever more manifest that a serious discussion needs to occur about the attitudes and treatment regarding migrants. Violence is being espoused against immigrants more and more often as people transform their fears and prejudices into coercion. Yet, as migrants ourselves, we must ensure to support the intrinsic human dignity of every person, whether they be black, white, Central Asian, or otherwise.

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