You can’t take responsibility for others

A sobering truth amidst this crisis.

Perhaps the hardest thing I had to come to terms with since this crisis started is how to approach my family. Yes, I know, I am not Ukrainian. I am Russian. My country is the aggressor. My country is the big fat bully with an aging lunatic in the control room. It seems as if the problems of Russians — caused by the sanctions — are minuscule compared to what the Ukrainians have to suffer each day. I know all of that. And yet…

And yet, the crisis is happening on two fronts. The first front is the one where the actual fighting is happening. Where people die, where shelling occurs, where children have to fall asleep in the basements and subway stations. The second one is happening in my country, where ordinary people suffer the consequences of a president they never voted for. People like my mother.

I had a conversation with my mother a couple of days ago. “Leave Russia,” I said. “It’s getting far too dangerous there. The rouble crashed 40% in two days. All major companies — from Boeing to Mercedes Benz to Apple to IKEA left. In a couple of weeks, there’ll be nothing left. It’ll be like the Soviet Union all over again…”

I then went on to propose her moving in with me, for a while, in Georgia.

“No,” she replied. “I am not leaving. I’ve been through the Soviet Union, it was bad, but we managed to survive. You go on. You’re young and you have a life to build for yourself. Me? I have a…