The Writer is Here: The Russian Leg

I’m still here.

You’d think I’d disappeared. But I’m still here, offline but here. I’ve been existing majorly in the real world and enjoying to some extent the pleasure of interacting, of being busy with other human beings: sailing; hiking; learning to cook Russian dishes; going on excursions. But I am returning.

I haven’t written anything in along while and I have a lot to say. I could tell my stories to folks around, or keep them to myself. But writing to you always makes me feel better, as if I the big old world got help from an insignificant being such as I. Also I’ve began to miss the online world of the freedom I came to know at 15 years old.


I’ll be here.

I’ll be here with stories from Russia for the next 4 years. Because the world is too small for you not to know what’s happening…NO I will not be writing any sort of news, but rather everyday stuff. Like meeting Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Chinese, Americans, Vietnamese, Norwegians, Slovaks, Brits, Bulgarians, Mongolians in classes, on the street, in hostels, and restaurants, and just about everywhere.


Why write about it?

Well, haven’t you been taught that Russia is under the dome? Of secrecy, silence, and hate? Who might be, right? But why not experience it before using that brush.


Why now?

I’ve been in Russia since last October (2015), and I am alive and unharmed, and absolutely no one has tried to harm me in anyway humanly possible. However, when I went looking for stories about blacks in Russia, I found largely the same content I’d found before moving with even more recent uploads by the same naysayers who might have deterred me coming.

For some reason, unknownst to even me, I thought there would be a lot more positivity  or better yet neutrality online, but I haven’t found it.


When will I begin?

Tomorrow you will be graced with the story of my first night in Russia. And that’s all for today. You know me…tomorrow’s piece will be a mouthful.

Until tomorrow…


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