A farewell party
In 2012, I attended a reception of the U.S. Ambassador Michael McFaul alongside many personalities from the technology entrepreneurship community of Moscow and a few small-hand politicians. I didn’t know much about McFaul or care about the U.S. back then, but I remember two impressions. First, how civilised the mid-rank American politician appeared, in contrast with the Kremlin’s army of pretenders and thieves. Second, the evening resembled a farewell party. Not for the ambassador, as he remained in Moscow for another two years. But for my illusion that the possessive elites will ever allow Russian society even a glimpse of hope for a sustainable change. Ten years later, I see that this second impression probably was an understatement.
Moscow protested in the winter of 2011-2012, but not for too long. And it wasn’t only the extremely low temperatures or police brutality that wiped opposition from the streets. People had to make a living, and the money did come from the very force they tried to oppose for many of them. As for me, I needed a distraction from the confusion, so I got married to someone I didn’t really know, someone very dangerous, like some women, could be to a man. Soon we were expecting a child.