“I have a sister who lives in Moscow. She is completely unhappy there. But she doesn’t want to return to Chelyabinsk because she’s afraid of being labeled a loser. What should I tell her?,” one girl from Chelyabinsk recently wrote to me.
Below is a post and stories about leaving major cities, where provincials come for a big dream or money, and how they return to their native lands.
My history
...I came to Moscow from Ufa to go to university. On that day, when my feet just set foot at the Kazan station, I said to myself with the face of a winner: “I will never return to Ufa!”
I adored our beautiful capital, and I had a lot of hopes connected with Moscow. It seemed that everything would work out instantly successfully. I was almost sure: at the age of 21 I would have everything I wanted.
When I left the province, my friends said: “Moscow is a city great opportunities. There more chances succeed".
And everything seemed to be fine outwardly - you read. But in 2012, completely lost, I returned to hometown. And again I said: “I will never return to Moscow!”
Now (I want to believe) I have become wiser and I simply cannot promise: I don’t know where I will be in a couple of years. The main conclusion that was drawn is very simple:
“Sometimes in order to take two steps forward, you have to take one step back.”
Four insights
...4.5 years have passed. My first book came out, I’m writing my second. I fly to Moscow to perform and conduct master classes. If that girl - 12 years ago - had been told that the main changes and the main triumph would begin from Ufa, she would not have believed it.
And here are four things I wish I could have told myself back then. (Don’t be confused by the fact that I will call other cities “provincial”. This is for ease of understanding).
1. You can return if you know why.
My colleague Marina returned to her hometown of Perm after several years in Moscow. She said that she left because she started going crazy. “My life was unbearable. I worked 16 hours to pay rented apartment and I'm going. It was some vicious circle. But I had a dream - to create clothes. When I returned to Perm, I did this. In 5 years I have never regretted my decision. I got married in Perm, and my brand goes to Russian level. Small cities have their advantages. There is usually less competition here. And if you return with “Moscow baggage,” then you have a clear head start. If you know why you are returning, you don’t need to become attached to Moscow.”
And, by the way, now Marina, who has successfully gotten back on her feet, is thinking about returning to Moscow. But already as a designer.
2. Sometimes it is better to be a king in the provinces than to be a nobody in Moscow.
I remember once, when I was still living in Moscow, a friend from Samara came to visit me. He was a restaurant manager and he did it brilliantly. “Why don’t you move to Moscow,” I wondered. And he replied: “I made a choice for myself. Sometimes it’s better to be a king in the provinces than to be a nobody in Moscow.”
Here, too, everyone chooses for themselves: where and how they want to feel.
3. Taking a step back prevents you from losing.
Our own Path unique. And he's a weird guy who likes flexibility. By leaving a “prestigious” job or moving to a provincial town, you do not take a step back. This is just part of the Path.
“At first, nothing worked out for me in Moscow. I had to leave with my tail between my legs. I felt like a huge failure. I was ashamed in front of my relatives. But inner voice He kept saying, “You need to go back.” I went to Penza and opened my own pizzeria. And then I realized that I had to move to Moscow again with new experience and already launched a pizzeria here. And everything was flooded! Maybe it was a “step back,” but it was the one that pushed me several meters forward. This is such a paradox,” says Sasha.
4. Every city is good for certain things.
For example, in Ufa there is less going on and far fewer distractions. And this is very good for writing.
My friend, a native Muscovite, moved from Moscow to Sochi. When I heard this, I told her: “Well done!” She responded: “Please say it again! And I have such a feeling of guilt... All my friends say that I am “oversexed.” But I just want peace of mind.”
The point of this post is that you need to learn to feel your Path. You cannot confidently say: “You will succeed in everything in Moscow.” Likewise, it cannot be said that those who returned are failures. So: if you feel that you need to go “home” or to another city, go. Nobody knows what awaits you there.
The question is not where is it better: in Moscow or on the periphery. The question is where is best for you specifically. And right now.
Good luck to you, returnees!
You can’t step into the same river twice, never go back to where you were already good, don’t look back - if these tips could be downloaded on the Internet, they would certainly be at the top. Giving them is not considered shameful: after all, anyone modern man I know that life does not stand still, there is no need to turn to the past when there are so many interesting things in the future. But the stories of our heroines prove that sometimes so-called useful advice is only common place, returning to where it was already good is not only possible, but also necessary, you can enter the river countless times, and the concept of “interesting” does not depend on time periods and geography.
Polina Tamuzha, producer of special projects. Returned to Riga after 10 years in London, now a mother of two children
It took another couple of months to finish all my business in Moscow, after which I bought a one-way ticket. I rented a room in Kaspiysk and began renovations. It soon became clear that my clumsy business plan had failed: money, including credit and borrowed from relatives and friends, had run out, I couldn’t find confectioners - no one wanted to go to the startup, instead of a counter they brought a piece of stainless steel. But it was necessary to pay installments for the apartment under construction and pay for the rented one. I went to the sea and cried. I thought that was it, this was a failure, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t handle it...
But I did it. Last month confectionery "Sweets and joys" celebrated its first anniversary. My staff consists of 10 confectioners, two designers, two administrators, a salesperson, a courier driver and a clean manager (she really doesn’t like being called a cleaner). A new construction project is in full swing - we are opening a flagship project in the most advanced area of the city, in terms of sales we have reached second place among confectionery shops (of which there are not three, but five), and yesterday we sold a franchise to Vladivostok.
This story has a lot important point: 12 years ago I left Dagestan with great resentment. My relatives abandoned me, I was an outcast to whom no one wanted to shake hands. And this is not pathos, but Caucasian traditions, so returning to Dagestan seemed like a utopia not only to me, but also to my loved ones: it’s unrealistic, they will find you there, eat you whole, etc. And in general, why break away from your favorite place into an incomprehensible wilderness? Only losers do this. But I live in Kaspiysk and am infinitely happy. And for some reason, right now it seems that the world has become more accessible and larger.
“That’s what you feel: you’re longing for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe this is some kind of rite of passage, don’t you know?
You know what happens when you realize that the house where you grew up is no longer yours, even if there is your corner where you can settle down, it is no longer your home... One day, you will leave and it will all be over. There is nostalgia for something that no longer exists, perhaps this is a ritual of change…. "Garden Country"
Sometimes in mature age you get the feeling that you need to go to the place where you grew up at all costs.
You buy a train or plane ticket and go on a journey - back to that city or village where you lost your first tooth, where you had your first kiss and where you learned your first life lessons.
You are temporarily leaving behind the life that you created for yourself, a life that means so little compared to the life of your parents.
You take a deep breath and come home.
You arrive in your city and start wandering through the streets that you still know like the back of your hand.
You see your family members again and a wave of memories washes over you. You go to bed in your old bed, where you spent your entire childhood.
You listen to the sounds of your parents' house. You can't sleep for a long time. And you understand that once only here did you feel safe. Then you found yourself in the harsh “big” world, which completely changed you.
It's a sad feeling, really. You have grown up, “ripened”, but at the same time you have lost something. You look at the cracks in your bedroom ceiling, remember the renovation your father did when you were 8 years old, and suddenly you realize that you are no longer as comfortable here as you once were.
You feel like a stranger, a “guest” in this house. Although you know all his secrets. You seem to have memories, but they seem to be about some other life, not your life at all.
At one fine moment it becomes especially obvious that this old house of yours in the old city is no longer your home.
There is your home - there you feel safe. And there is a house where you grew up - and there you feel lost.
It's an overwhelming feeling and it's very strange. Feeling this way is very painful. It’s painful to feel “cut out”, alienated in the place that has always been the embodiment of your comfort zone.
It is difficult, but this is the harsh reality of our days. When you come home, this place no longer means to you what it once did. And it's not that you don't have a heart. It’s just that the “home” and “hometown” that were once yours no longer belong to you.
You have a past here, but you don't see a future here.
You are passing by your old school and past your favorite sweet shop. But you don't feel anything pleasant. Not a single sensation that I would like to grab onto!
Everything around is permeated with nostalgia. Everything here has its own history. And yet, you don’t want to go back or even think about the past.
You don’t have any desire to ever return to these places and try to live here for a while.
You don't want to be raising children here. You don't want them to take root here. You feel that this city is a long-closed chapter in the book of life. And no matter how long you stay here again, no new memories will appear.
You perceive this city and this apartment more as a vacation spot than a real “home.”
You know that you can relax in the company of your parents or old (former?) friends. He might even learn something new.
But you didn't come here because this is your "home". You just decided to take a break from the worries of “at home” for a while.
You just know that since you were given 14 days of vacation, then some part of it needs to be spent on coming here.
You realize that you no longer have anything in common with your old friends who grew up here.
After you graduated from high school, you suddenly realized that the only thing you had in common with your “school friends” was the fact that you went to the same school.
Whatever happened between you in childhood, you now don’t want to see anyone who grew up next to you when you need to leave the house.
Once you start living in the “real” world, you invariably find people who have similar dreams and aspirations to you. They left their hometowns in order to achieve greater things. Just like you.
You realize how far you've come.
Do you understand what last years have evolved greatly. This would not be possible in your hometown. You meet people who do the same thing they always do, and you don't want to live like them. You see your progress. How much you've grown.
Sometimes it's fun: going back to your home for a couple of days past life. But this is only because your soul becomes lighter after you see with your own eyes what progress you have made in comparison with many who were initially at the same starting position as you.
You see your classmates who got married, had children, but continue to live on the same street as in the 8th grade. You see their parents still working in the same stores they did 20 years ago. And you understand that this is not the life you would want for yourself.
Perhaps this lifestyle makes them happy, but it certainly would not be enough for you.
The pleasures you once loved have lost their luster.
Once upon a time you loved to go to a restaurant in the center or swim in the lake in this city. You loved your dad's car and barbecues at the local park.
All those activities and places that you once enjoyed and seemed so important now seem small and meaningless.
Going to the movies no longer makes your heart skip a beat.
When you show up at home, you begin to strangely realize how grown up you have become.
You feel like a stranger because you are a stranger.
You feel like a stranger in a strange land in the place you used to call your “home”.
Now you understand that the idea of "home" is very subjective in itself. Just because you grew up here doesn't mean the place belongs to you.
You know: this city and this house will always occupy a piece of your heart. And some cherished memories of this place will forever remain in your head. But still, this is no longer your home.
Curious things happen as we grow up. This realization always comes unexpectedly, but it always comes.
The place you were planning to call "home" after you get to your parents' house (or where people call you while you're roaming) is still waiting for you.
July 26th, 2015 , 07:25 pm
When everything is bad, the money runs out, there is no work, there is a crisis in the country, and lovers disappear into the fog, one of the most popular pieces of advice is: “Come back home.”
I went to my mother here for a few days. I'm walking along the streets, and by chance I meet former classmates and... I have only one question: how can you live here? Everyone knows you! You constantly bump into familiar faces, and for them you remain in the same image in which you left here.
If you were a nerd at school, at whom they threw slobbering paper balls, then in your city you still are. You walk around the city, and they say about you: “Here you go, our school nerd. I once threw myself at it like a slobbering paper ball.”
And no stories will help. The Odnoklassniki website doesn’t lie. If you don’t have an account there, that means you have nothing to show. A friend of mine told me this.
In small towns everyone is very curious. The third question after “How are you?” and “Why aren’t you getting fat?” this is our favorite: “Are you married? Why not? And when? What about children? Also no? How so?”
The best answer to this question is silence.
Everyone I met was in full swing. Some already have two children, some have three. Marriage too - already the second or third. Some have already returned from vacation, others are just getting ready. People live.
They also like to ask about the car. No “I just don’t need her” is accepted here. There must be a car! Why don't you have a car? How to go to the dacha? What about the clinic? How did you come here? By train? Tough!
In Moscow, in your neighborhood, you can afford a lot: walk around without makeup, crawl out to the store in a stretched T-shirt. You can't leave the house like this here. Here for some reason everyone tries to look beautiful, they dress up for a walk, they walk with dignity. No one is running errands, everyone is decorous and beautiful, in white trousers.
But the funniest dialogue happened with a classmate with whom I decided to talk a little longer. We sat down on a bench, she took a drag from her cigarette, told gossip about her classmates (who was doing what), and then said:
You haven't achieved anything in Moscow. She didn’t even grab a rich guy. I don't understand how this can happen. Now, if I went to Moscow, I would rock it there. Yes, they would just give me an apartment there.
I just thought that such ideas about life in the capital were somewhere very far in the past! But no! Beautiful dreamers are still alive.
Tell me better, who came to Moscow or other cities: would you be able to return to your city, where you spent your childhood and youth, and live there again?
Now I can’t even imagine that this will happen. Only if in nightmare. I don’t feel comfortable here and, to be honest, I don’t even really want to leave home once again go out. I sit, watch TV and don’t communicate with anyone. Somehow I feel bored and sad here.
According to statistics, most of them will not return to their hometown. After graduation, they will try to find a better life for themselves - stay in Moscow, move to another Russian city or what is cherished dream most, go abroad. What is the reason for this migration and does it benefit the country and the youth themselves?
To Moscow, to Moscow...
“Currently, only 30% of Muscovites study in the capital’s universities, the rest are visitors,” she said Minister of Education and Science of the Russian Federation Olga Vasilyeva. - Before introduction Unified State Examination ratio it was the opposite: 70% were Muscovites, 30% were from other cities.” As statistics show, most of visiting students arrive from nearby Tver, Ryazan, Bryansk, Tula, Kaluga, Volgograd, Smolensk regions. Up to 25% of school graduates leave there, preferring Moscow and St. Petersburg, and most often after graduating from universities they settle in these two cities. The first and most obvious reason here - in absence in regional universities budget places in the most popular specialties. Having counted family budget, many parents decide to send their child to Moscow and support him financially there, rather than pay for education near home. This territorial proximity hurts higher education in these regions. First, they use their budget funds to prepare talented applicants, and they are eager to join big cities. The outflow of children with good Unified State Exam scores lowers the ratings of local universities, so even fewer children want to study there.
Moreover, up to 30% of those who graduate from universities in their home region then also move, by hook or by crook, as soon as they receive their diploma, to the two capitals. “We are losing the best children raised by our teachers,” regional authorities complain. But they can’t do anything about this outflow. Therefore, the regional economy suffers - local budgets are spent on training personnel who, under any pretext, try to flee to the capitals. Salaries here are so much higher that they even cover the need to rent a house or take out a mortgage. There are more career prospects here. Moreover, young people are pushed to such moves by their environment and relatives. No matter how well you graduate from a local university, in the eyes of others you will be worse than any C student, but with capital diploma. Wherever you get a job in your hometown, you look like a loser compared to your classmate who moved to the capital. Even if you are already heading the company, and he is still stuck in the position of sales manager.
...And also to Siberia, to Siberia
Two more regions traditionally in demand by applicants from other regions are Novosibirsk and Tomsk region. Here, universities are considered prestigious, and the regions are considered developed and, therefore, offering hope for employment. 15 more cities-centers are attractive to our youth developed regions. And almost a third of the country’s territory, together with its universities, are places to invite own youth, not to mention someone else's, is extremely difficult. This mainly concerns the south and east of the country. The socio-economic situation there is so difficult that every parent, almost from the birth of their child, begins to save money for the future move of their offspring to another region. Very difficult situation With higher education in the regions of the North. In Chukotka, for example, there are only separate branches of universities; there are no institutes of their own, because there is no demand. Children, by hook or by crook, are sent for higher education to Mainland and they do everything possible to ensure that they settle there.
Migratory children
And it’s clear what this is connected with. It's not just about prestige. Last year, 75% of graduates were able to find work. And a third of them graduated from either a Moscow or St. Petersburg university. This is precisely related to the fact that up to 35% of people who have barely received a diploma leave their parents’ home in search of work. And, for example, from Ivanovo region or Adygea, 50% of holders of fresh higher education certificates left. Even from Novosibirsk, Tomsk, Tyumen, and Omsk, which are traditionally quoted among applicants, young people also fail as soon as they receive their diploma. Thus, these regions become a kind of transit point. They accept “other people’s” children, give them higher education, and then lose them. At the same time, most of yesterday’s students do not return home, trying to find a job where there are prospects career growth. Let's say quite a lot of yesterday's graduates come to Khanty-Mansiysk.
What's the solution?
Of course, for the regions where the best representatives of youth rush, it is a real benefit. They skim the cream off the most talented and smartest. But such migration does not benefit the country’s economy. The state is interested in each region having its own specialists in all areas - from schools and hospitals to factories and state farms. Also, this nomadic life requires additional funds to create and maintain hostels. That's why Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev actively supported the program for creating flagship universities. 22 regional universities receive state support as having key importance for the industrial and socio-economic development of their subjects.
It is important that huge public funds were able to reverse the persistent stereotype: universities in the regions are weaker than those in Moscow. And then the capital’s youth, perhaps, will take off on their own and rush for higher education not to London and New York, but to Tula or Ivanovo.