The 13th day of the war. I was asked to interview a well-known film critic from Moscow who found refuge in Riga with his whole family because he could no longer live in Russia. Riga is once again becoming a center for Russian emigrants, as it was in the 1920s. The conversation lasted quite long and it was about many things, but the most important thing he said was that a person who lives by the word has nothing more to do there, and he will return only when it has become another country and perhaps will no longer be called Russia. There is no alternative. Until then, he will have to be patient and will work as a janitor or whatever, if necessary. For how long? – That’s a more complicated question. The recent Nobel Peace Prize winner was just interviewed next door, and as far as I know he is still going back to Moscow, though probably not for long, the kids are already elsewhere. So many are fleeing. Who will end up staying there? A friend from the army days from Kazan writes that almost all his relatives and acquaintances consider the propaganda to be the pure truth; for him it is completely incomprehensible, but he is forced to struggle with them every day. He can’t leave because he doesn’t have that much money, but he owns a cottage in the country and has prepared for his inner emigration with food reserves. Russia itself, it seems, will not change. The few tens of thousands on the streets of the cities are a drop in the bucket in the face of 140 million people. Without Ukraine’s help, nothing positive will develop there.
13. kara diena. Mani palūdza nointervēt populāru kinokritiķi no Maskavas, kurš ar visu ģimeni nonācis Rīgā, jo nespēja vairs dzīvot Krievijā. Rīga atkal veidojas par krievu emigrantu centru, kā tas bija arī pagājušā gadsimta divdesmitajos gados. Saruna bija diezgan ilga un par daudz ko, bet galvenais, ko viņš saka ir, ka cilvēkam, kuru baro vārds, tur vairs nav, ko darīt un atgriezīsies viņš tikai tad, kad tā būs cita valsts, un varbūt vairs nesauksies Krievija. Tas ir neizbēgami. Līdz tam jāpaciešas, ja vajadzēs strādās arī par sētnieku vai vienalga ko. Cik ilgi? – tas jau ir sarežģītāks jautājums. Aiz stūra tikai intervēts svaigākais Nobeļa miera prēmijas laureāts un, cik zinu, viņš gan vēl aizbraukšot uz Maskavu, lai gan, iespējams, arī ne uz ilgu laiku, bērni jau ir citur. Tik daudzi bēg. Kas tad tur beigās paliks? Armijas laika draugs no Kazaņas raksta, ka gandrīz visi no viņa radiem un paziņām uztver propagandu kā tīru patiesību, viņam tas ir pilnīgi neizprotami, taču viņš ir spiests katru dienu mocīties saskarsmē ar viņiem. Viņš nevar aizbraukt, nav tik daudz naudas, taču ir sagatavojis sev iekšējai emigrācijai mājiņu laukos ar pārtikas rezervēm. Krievija pati, kā šķiet, nemainīsies. Tie daži desmiti tūkstoši uz pilsētu ielām uz 140 miljonu fona ir piliens jūrā. Bez Ukrainas palīdzības tur nekas labs nebūs.