America

We'll be landing in California in a few minutes. I already don't like it. In New York, I saw a woman dressed in warm boots and shorts in the airport. Very strange, indeed. If I knew English, I would've asked how if she was couldn't decide what the weather outside was?

But we have a open future ahead of us...  a clean slate. What will happen? I don't know. What will I do first? I'm not really sure... Will I find a job? Will I be able to build a house?

I don't know.

miracles do happen?

Ok ok. I don't even know where to start. hoooowwww??? Ya v shoke (I'm in shock).

So we're sitting in the little old terminal of Novosibirsk's old little airport and waiting for our plane. How did we get here? Wow. Just wow. I am repulsed and at the same time thankful for how careless people are and how stupid current technology is. My wife says it's God, and maybe she's right.

Basically this is what happened.

When we just arrived at the airport, still in the car, we contemplated about how we're going to take the money through. We couldn't put it into our check-in baggage because money would be taken right away by whoever will be checking the bags. Those vorishki (thieves). So we had to take it with us. And what we did was probably the dumbest thing, in my opinion. The four of us (us and my parents-in-law) took the money and spread it amongst ourselves and rolled it up in our sleeves. We were praying and hoping that nothing would happen and the security machines wouldn't detect us. Those paraziti (parasites - mild Russian insult) working at the counters barely looked at us. And they didn't. Hallelujah, amen.

And now we're off to America. Well, actually, first to Turkey, and then to France, and then finally New York, and later California. The sister decided to cheap out and bought us a flight with tons of layovers. It works though.

fly or die

I've become a man of the night recently. Not in the inappropriate way, of course, but the fact that I do everything in the dark now. I stay in hiding in the day, and I see my family only at night. For the past several months, I've only looked at my daughter while she was sleeping. I haven't heard her talk to me or smile at me or look at me for a while.

And now I'm writing this with the help of a flashlight (which I'll be leaving behind by the way) on our way to the airport where our fate lies, no matter how lame that sounds. We'll either be held back because we have a lot of money that we can't account for and can't take out of the country or I'll be caught and taken to prison.

I guess we'll have to see if I'll continue writing in this journal or if this will be the last page because it'll be taken away from me.

phone call from America

So I'm currently being searched for all over our city, and the last time I saw Sasha, she told me our house was being watched by our annoying old neighbor. She literally can't go outside without him looking at her out his window. So I don't come near our house very often. My parents-in-law currently stay with her and Elina.

The other night, I decided to sneak into the house late at night. Around 3am. She was still awake, and she was on the phone. I didn't want to startle her so I waited till she was done with her phone call, and I softly called her name. She surprisingly wasn't too surprised, bless her heart.

She apparently just got off the phone with her sister from America. Her sister calls her at such random times because of the different time zones. No respect. She could at least choose a time that is comfortable for both of them, but no, she chooses a time that's only good for her. Sasha is just too nice to tell her that it's a bad time for her.

So basically this time, her sister said that she applied for an invitation for her and Sasha's parents and for Sasha, Elina, and me so that we could leave to America. And it got accepted. Wow, this could be perfect opportunity for us. We have some money saved up that I will give to my sister to buy some tickets for us. We also have a lot of savings that we kept for emergency.

There are two problems though. The currently changing currency (which might impede our taking our money with us because it'll be useless) and the fact that I'm basically a criminal which might not be allowed through the security at the airport. But that's it. No other issues.

life

In 1988, I got married to a cute lady named Sasha. All I can say, she was crazy patient and independent since I was not not home very often. We had a daughter, Kristina, who died. Then we had another girl, Elina, who is currently three and the most careful child that I've ever laid my eyes on. Even as a three year old, she doesn't do stupid things. She really must take after her mother. After that Sasha had a miscarriage with our third daughter which was very difficult for her to recover from. But the most traumatic experience for me was when our fourth child, Vovochka, died at four months. And the saddest part was that I wasn't at home when it happened.

I kept asking God why he kept punishing me like this. My wife said it was because I didn't listen to Him. I just don't know.

where it all began

It was the year 1986. My two years of mandatory service in the Russian military were over. It was an option for me to stay another two years, and my commander really wanted me to stay, but my mother was pleading for me to come back home. Not to blow my own horn or anything (cough, cough), but I was the best fighter, gunman, and athlete in the whole team. I could shoot almost anything accurately even while skiing at the same time and I could probably identify any weapon in the dark if I needed to. I was a border patrol between China and Kazahkstan, and I was one of those annoying people who insanely enjoyed what they did.

But anyways. A month after I came back, I didn't really know what to do with myself. I tried to find a job, but I was never successful in finding the one I wanted. Imagine coming from a place where you were always the best to somewhere where you couldn't even make a little bit of money. It definitely was difficult for my self-esteem. I fell into depression. I really needed money.

My brother, Victor, came to my rescue with a small job where I could make some quick cash. I jumped at the opportunity. I was supposed to deliver a message to a mafia group. I knew Victor was involved with some kind of illegal group, but I didn't really know what at the time, and honestly I didn't really care. I just needed money. And I love adventure and anything that makes my adrenaline rush through the roof. 

Basically my brother was in an anti-mafia group (gang) and it needed a messenger boy. And that's how I got my first "job." 

At first it was going to be temporary, but then I took another job and then another, and before I knew it, I was an official member of the gang. 

the beginning of the end

I can't believe I'm starting a journal. I just feel like I should be documenting some parts of my life so I won't forget them.

Today my brother went to prison. For both his and my sins. He took it all upon himself. My slightly older-than-me brother with whom we did everything since childhood. We even shared a school uniform when we were younger. And now he's taking my punishment for me.

He got tired of being on the run and turned himself in... and he took my sentence for me as well.

Nevertheless, the government still wants me to disappear.