Galina, don’t be skeptical about your wishes and dreams! They are like seeds thrown in soil and waiting for time to sprout and blossom.
Thus I cheered myself up going along one of Vienna streets, and gusts of cold wind threw raindrops in my face. As alien I peeped in luminous shop windows, observing Christmas candles and  people in their purchase amok. For me – solo as I was, Christmas meant only a few additional days of aggravated solitude.
I didn’t manage well, besides arrival of accommodation welfare was delayed for two months. So the very idea of buying Christmas presents sounded improper, when two-digit figure of my recent bank report swirled in my mind as epitome of all I possessed and achieved after years of struggle in Austria.
At last I entered bakery to warm myself up, and as middle-aged sales woman glanced at me questioningly, I felt obliged to buy the cake and registered automatically miscount in 40 cents.
I walked for ages, and now it was middle of nowhere. The buzz of traffic subsided, and road widened in avenue of poplars and mansions, running forward to rural districts.
One could see around small picturesque gardens, lawns with statues and fountains. Some houses were richly decorated with clay molding and wood carvings. (more…)

Galina Toktalieva for Die Wiener Nachrichten (excerpt)
Graz was the very place, where my emigration trial by water and fire started. It was southern-looking fair town with medieval architecture, in strange way reminding me of sunny Bishkek streets. It was love at first sight. Graz struck me as prettiest place I ever knew. However, to reside in historical centre of it under heated, as oven roof, trapped in tiny attic, with deafening, amplified uproar of surrounding restaurants all night long, was hard. In addition, other inhabitants of under-roof space belonged to the African commune rap fans, and from their round-the-clock jovial blare, I was separated only by thin carton wall. (more…)

In breaks we were eating together in dim canteen of education center in routine of our unemployment compulsory course. Dining hall was full of people.

Social control in form of compulsory education

It was steaming stewed cabbage, which melted in the mouth and reminded me of hearty soviet meals, which were but 200 times cheaper. My companion treated cabbage with great appetite. She was attractive woman of forty, with trim figure and regular face features, which together with her lively way, made her looking more of brown-eyed Gallic type, than woman from Vorarlberg. Like many others in my surroundings, Martha was very talkative and exploded now and then with distinctly articulated passages of eloquence. Relative longevity of German lexical units and typically loud manner of speaking with low, throat voice always increased my impression of Austrian vocalizations affluence.
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Banality often contains concentration wisdom of folks. They say, it is not shameful to be poor. Poorest can obtain social security benefits. What is poverty in Austria, how it looks, tastes and smells? Apart from concept, I wanted to know this as personal experience. Being granted with work after five years of survival training in Graz, I felt myself enormously rich  being registered as poor in Vienna. Low income is inevitable lot for many emigrants. In case of Austrians, poverty is often life philosophy. Those whose income is lower than 893 euros are considered to be poor and can buy goods on lower prices in social supermarket. There I paid visit yesterday, hungry for new experiences.
It was crowd in front of gloomy building forty minutes before opening. This crowd spoke different languages and had shopping bags on the wheels. I felt curious about miraculous presents life had in store for me and found modest size of my bag regretful. Austrian woman nearby started talking to me, and I paid attention to her exquisite make-up and numerous silver rings. She told one must pay or wait, and she preferred the second. Eventually the first two visitors were let in the store, and after half an hour we together with silver lady reached the entrance, where joined new queue to registration office. I counted sufficient quantity of social workers around, who briskly moved forth and back in front of us, but line was moving on with speed of snail. Pale woman in front of me in long Muslim dress and scarf told she was close to faint after two hours of waiting. The dark young mother behind, had three small children, who shrieked playing run and catch, what added to whole turmoil. Meanwhile I was observing faces of buyers leaving store, and there was no air of satisfaction at them. They dragged their bags with listless expression.
After my patience was significantly strained and sweat flowed on my backside under cloths, I was let in registration room. (more…)

They_say the moments when airplane takes off and lands are most fascinating. There I was again – in the big belly of steel bird landing this time in Stockholm airport. High speed, vibration and awareness of certain risk- make perception especially sharp. In proximity of a few seconds you evaluate all your life. I was invited to Sweden by one of my pen-friends with whom I corresponded for 5 last years of my stay in Moscow. Nils often wrote me about his life. Swedish veterinarian of 50 years old – he would send me packs of stockings and roses in frosty Moscow. My life in Russia was not that easy. Only those of mixed race and nationality origin can possibly understand discriminative nuances of existence in post-soviet reconstructive environment. Chechnya war was going on; now and then I was stopped in the street by police officers who checked documents of all suspicious persons with non-Slavic appearances. By other words, like every other real nomad I was ready to fly and all my property could be packed in a single bag. Sweden- from emigration point of view could be good choice. But I had peculiar premonitions about it. Emigration means complete financial dependency on partner- so you must be sure you can stand it or dig out your own grave.

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