Rhino's Ramblings - Christmas in Moscow

Someone asked me this week can you remember your best Christmas? Can you tell us a story which will be forever in your memory? Which one means the most to you?

It doesn’t take much thinking to remember back to Christmas almost two decades ago now in Moscow. It wasn’t a Christmas I was at physically but yet I had a hand in. 

Back in those days I was just gearing up to go on what I best can describe as my adventures in the former Soviet Union. I use to write people there because I always wanted to know what it was like and I had always dreamt to see the places the old people had told me about as a boy.

During the year leading up to Christmas I had message after message from my other friend Natalia and her husband Vladimir about the deteriorating conditions at their employment. They didn’t want to impose but they did not know who could help them. 

My friend Natalia was a journalist whose main job was translating the news from Russian to English and then putting it on a website. It was a good Moscow based news job.

The problem was the owner of the news conglomerate was in serious trouble with the government and his offices were being raided and his staff harassed. The owner fled the country to Spain leaving his staff behind to face the music when the government and the tax police conducted a series of raids. 

Desperate to find a new life Natalia and Vladimir had sent a large amount of money to what they thought was a trustworthy immigration consultant in Canada and sadly were being taken. They needed the money back because Vladimir had a heart condition and in Russia you had to pay for such an operation or you risked certain death at the hands of a state doctor. 

It took a few days but I managed to get a hold of the Toronto based firm and despite pointing out what they were doing was illegal they basically laughed at me.

But in a few days an assistant to the president of the firm called me and he told me all about being my comrade and how his family was White Émigrés. He was the poor dupe in charge of calming Mr Thomas down. 

Then he told me how his grandfather was a history professor and knew lots about White Émigré units and so I told him what unit my family was in and how my friends had asked me for help and in that spirit I was coming Toronto to get them their money back. 

These people had asked for my help and as a traditional courtesy I was honour bound to grant them my help. 

The guy laughed and said “it’s 4:30 and Friday I’m going for a beer. You don’t get it you’re not getting the money back. I will ask my grandfather about your ancestors.” 

And then he hung up. 

Just after 3 am that Sunday morning I received a phone call from the president of the immigration consultancy firm his voice was very shaky and he had the pleasure to tell me he had had a change of heart that the money would be returned on Monday. And I didn’t need to go to Toronto. 

My friend Vladimir had his operation and a new heart valve from America installed.

I have often thought how Natalia must have felt to know Vladimir was getting his operation. That in all of the many problems which surrounded them that they had gotten their money back. Christmas that year must have been very special. 

And some descendant of a crazy Cossack time had forgotten somehow convinced a bunch of criminals to give them their money back. 

Two years later I would meet Natalia and Vladimir for the first time. Near Red Square by a statue Vladimir would show me the scar from the operation and say thank you. 

While we went around Moscow I noticed something different between Natalia and Vladimir from some other Russian people I knew. They actually believed in and followed the laws. 

One of the things Natalia said was “Russia has lots of laws. The problem is very few people follow them and it’s hurting the country. It’s what wrong with this place.”

The couple was content in their fate knowing that they likely would have to adapt in Moscow and do their best to survive. Vladimir had worked for the same news organization in Moscow as Natalia and now needed a job when the government collapsed it. 

Despite failing his interview and really being unknowingly associated with what was really in my opinion a criminal enterprise I personally spoke to the Canadian Embassy in Moscow about Natalia and Vladimir. 

I managed to somehow get through to a Canadian in the Immigration side of the Embassy and told them the story. I managed to convince her if I faxed a letter they would attach it to their immigration file if they ever had the opportunity again to apply. 

Years later I received a phone call about that letter and if I vouched for my friends. I said yes and that was the end of the conversation. 

Today in Richmond Hill, Ontario Vladimir and Natalia Volodin and their two children will celebrate yet another Christmas in Canada. 

Merry Christmas to all.