I’m so excited to finally share this interview with you!
My former student Douglas, a Canadian who traveled to Russia, shares his first experience of the country in this detailed and very personal interview. He talks about traveling to Russia, Russian culture, the Russian language, everyday life in Russia, Russian people, and the places he visited.
What I love most is how personal this interview feels. It’s almost like Douglas is sitting right there and telling you about his experience in Russia in person and sharing photos.
Thank you so much, Douglas, for your time and for giving us this wonderful opportunity to learn more about Russia through your eyes!
— What made you decide to visit Russia?
My journey to Russia actually started on an app called Slowly, where you exchange virtual pen-pal letters that take real-world time to arrive. My now-wife, Masha, and I began writing to each other there, but before long, we grew too impatient waiting for letters and moved our conversations to Telegram.
After thousands of messages and countless hours of video chats, Masha came to Canada for three weeks to visit me. A few months later, I decided it was my turn to travel to her side of the world.
Masha along with her daughter Eseniia, all met in person in Tbilisi, Georgia, where Masha and I were married. Just one week later, we flew into Moscow together.
— Have you been to Russia before?
No. This was my very first time visiting Russia.
Russia had always been near the top of my list of places I dreamed of seeing with my own eyes, so finally stepping off the plane and realizing I was actually there felt surreal.
— Which cities or regions did you visit?
I spent most of my time in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, which were both incredible in very different ways.
I also got to experience a more local side of life by visiting Masha’s family’s two dachas, one in Gribova and the other in Kerzhach.
— Was Russia different from what you expected? In what ways?
It was a world away from what I had been taught in school or seen in the media.
High school for me was back in the 1980s, so much of what I learned about Russia was really about the USSR—how grey, cold and poor it was, and how it definitely wasn’t somewhere you’d go on vacation.
Maybe some of that reflected reality decades ago, but the Russia I experienced was modern, vibrant and enormous. It was filled with fascinating people, beautiful public spaces and conveniences that I simply wasn’t expecting.
I also discovered that my image of Russia had been based largely on things I had heard about it rather than on actually knowing anyone who lived there. Being there in person changed that completely.
— What impressed you the most, and why?
Without a doubt, the Moscow Metro. I could talk about it for hours!
Coming from North America, you tend to think of subways as purely functional, and sometimes rather grungy. But the Moscow Metro is almost like an underground museum. The marble archways, grand chandeliers, detailed mosaics and stained glass at stations like Mayakovskaya and Komsomolskaya are breathtaking.
And then there’s the efficiency. The stations were clean, the system was incredibly easy to use, and at some stations trains were arriving as frequently as every 90 seconds.
The combination of beauty and efficiency absolutely amazed me.
— How often did you use Russian during your trip?
Honestly, I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to speak Russian on my own. I was never alone!
In most situations, it was simply more appropriate for Masha or Eseniia to do the speaking for me. I did occasionally try to order my own food in restaurants, but most of my actual Russian speaking happened at home with Masha and Eseniia.
I still practice every day, although it’s difficult when you have two English-speaking Russians around you who have been speaking English for a long time.
— Were people patient and encouraging when you spoke Russian?
Yes, when I did try, people were generally very patient.
I think the hardest part for me was having the courage to actually bring the Russian out of my head and use it in front of another person. I have a relatively small amount of Russian at my disposal, and speaking it is much more intimidating than practicing at home.
I found that people were usually happy that I was trying. And sometimes they would switch to English when they realized I was struggling, which was both helpful and a little humbling.
There were also people who seemed genuinely interested in helping me communicate, even when my Russian was limited.
— Was there a moment when you realized, “Wow, my Russian actually works!”?
I’ve actually had more of those moments with understanding Russian than with speaking it.
Sometimes Masha and Eseniia will be having a full conversation in Russian while I’m sitting nearby minding my own business. At first, I might have almost no idea what they’re talking about. Then I’ll suddenly recognize a word or phrase, and that gives me a clue about the subject.
From there I can listen for other words I recognize and gradually piece together the general idea.
I don’t understand every word, and sometimes I have absolutely no idea what’s being said. But occasionally I’ll suddenly realize, “Wait a minute—I actually know what they’re talking about.”
I might hear enough to later ask Masha something like, “What was it your dad was buying at the store? It sounded like onions and potatoes, and then something happened in the car on the way home.”
That’s when I know that somehow my brain is actually starting to process Russian.
— What was your favourite Russian meal or dessert?
Russia definitely opened my eyes to how much variety there is in the dairy and dessert department.
My two favourites were сырники (syrniki), little cottage-cheese pancakes, and сырок (syrok), a small sweet cottage-cheese bar usually covered in chocolate.
I also loved things like творожная масса, drinking yogurt, трубочка with boiled condensed milk, Napoleon cake, marmalade, оладьи, chocolate and Russian beer.
Something unexpected that I actually really enjoyed was Оливье (Olivier salad). I hadn’t really known what it was before I went to Russia.
— Did you try anything unusual?
Definitely. Some of the food was very different from what I was accustomed to.
I tried various cured and dried fish, caviar and traditional Russian salads. I enjoyed some things much more than others.
The dried fish was difficult for me, and селёдка под шубой, or herring under a fur coat, was particularly challenging. It’s a layered salad made with herring, potatoes, carrots, beets, eggs and mayonnaise.
I didn’t even attempt холодец (kholodets), the traditional jellied meat dish.
On the other hand, Olivier salad was something I initially thought sounded strange but ended up really enjoying. Napoleon cake was another pleasant discovery.
— What did you notice about everyday life in Russia that was different from Canada?
The technology was probably one of the biggest differences I noticed.
So much of everyday life could be handled through your phone. You could pay for goods and services using your phone number, order taxis, order almost anything for delivery, and even leave a tip using a QR code.
Tipping isn’t the same part of everyday culture that it is in Canada. It wasn’t generally expected or pressured, but if you wanted to tip, you could scan a QR code—even after you’d already left.
There were delivery riders everywhere, travelling around the city on electric bikes in all kinds of weather. I also saw Yandex delivery robots roaming around central Moscow.
There were so many moments when I thought, “Why don’t we have this in Canada?”
Even grocery shopping was different. One thing that struck me was seeing vegetables sold unwashed in boxes. That was completely normal there but looked strange to me coming from Canada, where we’re accustomed to seeing produce cleaned and prepared for sale.
And then there were all the little everyday things: people using the Metro as naturally as Canadians use cars or buses, families out together late at night, busy public spaces even in freezing weather, and people simply going about their daily lives.
— What were the people you met like?
The people I encountered were intelligent, curious and often eager to talk.
They were also frequently eager to show that they could speak English, even if they only knew a little. While people didn’t necessarily act outwardly friendly toward strangers, when I approached someone, I generally found them very kind and friendly.
One thing that really struck me was how interested people were when they learned I was Canadian. Despite everything going on politically in the world, the people I met were genuinely curious about why I was there.
Of course, people have their own opinions about politics, just as people do everywhere, but those conversations simply didn’t arise in my interactions. What I experienced instead was curiosity and hospitality.
I also noticed something about fashion and appearance in Moscow. Of course, Canadians care about how they look too, but there seemed to be a greater emphasis on personal style than I was used to seeing at home. I noticed more people who were very thoughtfully and fashionably dressed, while at the same time there were plenty of people dressed very casually. The range seemed broader than I had expected. It wasn’t Paris-fashion-week style, but I often got the impression that people had put more thought into their appearance before heading out into the city.
Saint Petersburg felt a little different. I noticed more young people expressing themselves through their clothing, including a lot of Gothic and punk-inspired styles. I loved it.
— Did anyone do something especially kind or unexpected for you?
There were quite a few people who made me feel welcome.
At VDNH, a young woman at one of the exhibits made a real effort to speak English with me. She asked where I was from and what I was doing in Moscow, and it was simply nice to have someone take an interest and make me feel welcome.
There was also a Chinese restaurant called Лан Ма, where a waitress went out of her way to make sure I was taken care of. She asked if she could practise her English with us, and the whole experience became more of a pleasant conversation than simply a meal.
Then there was the couple who heard Masha speaking English at a Moscow pub and came over to talk to us. They bought us drinks and we ended up having a wonderful conversation. They even offered me some самогон (samogon), a traditional homemade spirit somewhat comparable to moonshine.
And then there was the funny encounter with the two guys who appeared to have been drinking—one of them considerably more than the other.
I was standing in a store looking at the different beers in the refrigerated case when one of them came over and started talking to me in Russian. He was speaking very quickly, and I was immediately in over my head. I was trying to understand what he was saying while also trying not to look completely lost.
He figured out that I was struggling and asked where I was from. When I said Canada, they were visibly surprised. He immediately said something along the lines of, “I speak English! Let me help you!”
I thought, Great! This is going to work!
So I told him, “I’m looking for a good wheat beer.”
He looked at me for a moment, apparently processing this request, and then simply said:
“ПИВО!” — “Beer!”
And that was pretty much the end of our linguistic exchange.
But he understood what I wanted well enough, and he proceeded to show me some beers that he thought were good. Somehow, despite the language barrier—and despite the fact that he had clearly been enjoying himself quite a bit—we managed to accomplish exactly what I had come into the store to do.
It was such a silly little interaction, but I remember it because it was so genuinely friendly. He didn’t speak to me because he had to or because I was a tourist. He simply saw a guy looking confused at the beer selection and decided he was going to help him.
Another time, I had fallen behind while taking pictures on the way back to the apartment. A woman approached me in the dark and started speaking Russian. I apologized and said I didn’t understand.
She laughed and suddenly switched into very good English.
She said, “That’s okay, I’m not from here either, and I’m looking for the Metro.”
And I was actually able to tell her how to get to the nearest station.
— What cultural experience will you remember the most?
There are two that really stand out to me.
The first was International Women’s Day.
I remember being struck by how seriously people in Moscow seemed to take it, particularly the men. I wanted to get flowers for Masha, so Eseniia helped me find a good florist.
As we walked through the city, I started noticing that practically every man we passed was dressed nicely and carrying flowers, chocolates or some other wrapped gift.
I remember saying to Eseniia, “Look! Everyone is carrying flowers!”
She looked at me as though this was the most obvious thing in the world and said that it was very important for men to bring a gift to the women in their lives.
And it wasn’t just husbands buying things for their wives or men buying flowers for girlfriends. Men were taking flowers and gifts to female colleagues at work as well. It really felt like an important tradition that people genuinely embraced.
The other experience was New Year’s Eve at VDNH.
It was around −10°C to −11°C at midnight, with light snow and some wind, and yet the place was packed.
What amazed me almost as much as the celebration itself was how busy the public transportation was. The Metro, trams and buses were full of people heading to VDNH to celebrate.
The park was filled with people eating from food vendors, watching live music and waiting for midnight. Everyone seemed happy, and there was a real sense of anticipation in the air.
As midnight approached, the music stopped and Putin appeared on a huge screen beside the Фонтан Дружбы народов (Friendship of Peoples Fountain) to give his New Year’s address.
As a Canadian, that was a very surreal moment for me. I come from a country where most people are taught to think of Putin very negatively, so seeing the crowd so patriotically gathered together watching his address was something I had never imagined I would get to experience.
Then midnight arrived. The Russian national anthem began playing, and everyone around me stopped to sing.
Hearing that many Russians singing their national anthem together was incredibly powerful. People cheered, danced and the celebration continued.
Eventually the park began to empty and people started making their way toward the Metro, trams and buses.
I later learned that more than 120,000 people attended the celebration at VDNH alone. And that was just one park—celebrations were taking place in parks and public spaces all over Moscow that night.
Standing there in the cold, surrounded by that enormous crowd, was something I’ll never forget.
— Was there a museum or historical site that you particularly enjoyed?
Definitely Red Square.
I’d seen Red Square and St. Basil’s Cathedral in movies, on television and in the news my entire life. So actually standing there, right in front of St. Basil’s, was almost difficult to process.
There was a moment where I just thought, “Oh my goodness, I’m actually here.”
I had been told by quite a few people that I shouldn’t go to Russia and that I would be in danger. So there was a strange feeling of being a little bit of an adventurer when I finally found myself standing there.
But then I looked around and saw this enormous city filled with ordinary people and families, going about their lives and enjoying themselves, just as people do everywhere in the world.
That gave me a different perspective. There wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary about me for being there. I was simply someone who had been independent enough to make my own decision and experience the country for myself rather than being persuaded by people who had never actually been there.
We also visited the State Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg. It’s difficult to describe how magnificent that place is.
We spent an entire afternoon exploring it and still felt like we’d barely scratched the surface. The building itself is almost as impressive as the collections inside it. Everywhere you turn there are enormous rooms, elaborate decorations, paintings and works of art.
It is the kind of museum where you could spend days and still not see everything.
— Did you notice any customs or traditions that you found interesting?
The biggest cultural difference I noticed was probably Christmas and New Year’s.
December 25 isn’t really Christmas in Russia in the way it is in Canada and much of Western Europe. Russians certainly know that Christmas is celebrated on December 25 in places like Canada, the United States and much of Europe, but for most Russian families, December 25 is simply a normal day.
Instead, New Year’s is the huge celebration. It has much more of the significance that Christmas has for many Canadians—a major family occasion, a special meal, gifts, traditions and then a huge celebration at midnight.
We spent part of New Year’s Eve at Masha’s father’s apartment before going to VDNH. There was a traditional Russian New Year’s table covered with food: селёдка под шубой, Мимоза, Оливье, sliced meats and cheeses, cured fish, red caviar, roasted meat, potatoes and vegetables.
I also learned about some of the little Russian superstitions that were completely new to me.
You’re not supposed to whistle inside the house because it’s said to bring financial trouble. Shoes generally aren’t worn inside the house.
If you forget something and have to return home before leaving again, you’re supposed to look in the mirror. There is also the tradition of sitting down for a moment before leaving on a journey.
And then there’s тьфу-тьфу-тьфу, often accompanied by knocking three times on wood to avoid jinxing something.
Some of these habits actually followed me home to Canada. I regularly find myself doing тьфу-тьфу-тьфу and knocking on wood now. I used to whistle in the house all the time. I don’t anymore.
Masha has successfully converted me.
— What was the highlight of your trip?
Honestly, it’s difficult for me to say what single event was the most unforgettable, because every day I spent in Russia was unforgettable.
Every day I discovered something new, met someone new, or experienced something I had never experienced before.
A big part of that was realizing that so much of what I had been taught throughout my life and what I had been told about Russia simply didn’t match what I was experiencing.
I could tell you about Red Square, the Metro, the Hermitage, New Year’s Eve or any number of other experiences, but the truth is that the highlight was the accumulation of all those experiences.
It was the ordinary things too—going to stores, walking through neighbourhoods, spending time in the city centre, visiting museums, riding the Metro, travelling to the dachas and simply being around Russian people.
It’s difficult to describe in words.
My entire trip to Russia was the highlight.
— If you could return tomorrow, where would you go first?
I wouldn’t go straight to a museum or a famous landmark.
I would go directly to our apartment in Moscow.
It’s still there waiting for us. Masha’s father looks after it from time to time, and I think about it quite often.
It’s an old two-room apartment—not luxurious or particularly remarkable by Moscow standards, but during my time there it became home to me.
The neighbourhood is called Perovo, and I got to know it surprisingly well. I knew the two Дикси grocery stores we used most often, the аптека, Dodo Pizza, the little coffee shop around the corner, the Metro station where we started so many of our adventures into central Moscow, and Black Bone, the really cool place where I got my haircut twice.
I knew the school Eseniia attended, and even a tiny hole-in-the-wall place that sold homemade beer and dried fish snacks. There was also Красное & Белое (Red & White), where we’d often stop to pick up food and drinks on our way home from the Metro.
After spending three months there, and then another month during my second trip to Russia, I knew that neighbourhood. I knew how to get around, where to shop, where to eat and where everything was.
It stopped feeling like a foreign place and started feeling familiar.
That’s what I would want most if I could return tomorrow. I wouldn’t necessarily need to go anywhere special. I’d just want to walk out of that apartment, walk around Perovo, visit the places I know and feel that same relaxed sense of freedom I had when I was there.
Perovo became home to me. I miss that place more than I can really put into words.
— What advice would you give to students who dream of visiting Russia?
My biggest advice would be: don’t let other people’s assumptions stop you from experiencing the world for yourself.
Before I went to Russia, quite a few people told me I shouldn’t go and that I would be in danger. I understand why they were concerned, but many of the people giving me that advice had never actually been there.
I decided that I wanted to experience Russia for myself rather than relying entirely on other people’s perceptions of it.
And if you’re learning Russian, don’t worry about being fluent before you go. I’m certainly not fluent—I have only a small amount of Russian at my disposal.
Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Sometimes understanding comes before speaking, and that’s okay.
Most importantly, be curious. Don’t just see the famous sights. Walk around, ride the Metro, go into ordinary stores, try the food and experience everyday life.
You don’t have to know everything about a country before you visit it. Sometimes you have to visit it to discover what you didn’t know.
— Has this trip changed the way you think about Russia or learning Russian?
Yes, absolutely.
The biggest change is that Russia stopped being an idea to me and became a real place.
Before I went, Russia was something I had learned about, heard about and imagined. After spending months there, it became a place where I knew neighbourhoods, grocery stores, Metro stations, restaurants and people.
I had a home there, even if it wasn’t technically my home.
It also changed the way I think about learning Russian. I still only have a relatively small amount of Russian, and I’m much more comfortable understanding it than speaking it.
But I’ve started to realize that understanding doesn’t always happen word by word.
I’m still not a Russian speaker, but Russian is becoming less like a collection of words I’m trying to memorize and more like something I can actually understand in context.
And those little moments where I suddenly realize I understand what they’re saying are incredibly rewarding.
— Finish this sentence: “The most Russian thing I experienced was…”
That’s a surprisingly difficult question because there wasn’t one single thing.
The longer I was there, the more I realized that what made Russia feel Russian to me wasn’t one particular landmark or tradition. It was all the little things I encountered every day—the food, the Metro, the superstitions, the celebrations, the grocery stores, the neighbourhoods, the people and all the ordinary things that were simply different from what I was used to in Canada.
The longer I stayed, the more I came to feel like I belonged there.
So maybe the most Russian thing I experienced was simply feeling at home in Russia.
Not because I suddenly became Russian—I didn’t. I was still very much a Canadian visitor. But Russia became familiar to me, and I felt welcomed there.
That’s something I never expected when I first decided to go.
— Describe your trip using only three words.
Unexpected. Welcoming. Rewarding.
— What souvenir did you bring home?
Well… Most importantly I brought back a family who I love beyond words. Masha and I had actually gotten married in Tbilisi, Georgia, shortly before we travelled to Moscow, so Russia wasn’t where we got married. But Masha is from Moscow, and after spending those months there together, Russia became deeply connected to our life together.
She didn’t come back to Canada with me at the end of that trip, but eventually she and her daughter Eseniia did make their way here.
I did bring back the usual souvenirs as well, quite a few T-shirts and a couple of hoodies. I only had a carry-on bag and a backpack, so I had to leave a lot of things behind. In a way, though, my most important souvenirs were my photos and videos. I took far more than I could ever share with anyone. I wanted to capture as much of the experience as I could, even if the photos weren’t always particularly interesting to anyone else.
I have photographs of people simply walking across a public square toward the Metro, cars driving through the streets in the ice and snow, people leaning against each other on the subway, and videos of places I loved as well as places that were completely unremarkable.
Sometimes there was nothing special happening in the picture at all—it was simply the feeling I had when I was standing there that made me want to capture it.
But one of the most meaningful things I brought home wasn’t something I bought at all.
Masha’s father knew how interested I was in Soviet history, so he gave me a collection of old Soviet items that had belonged to the family. There were Soviet lapel pins, stamps, postcards and coins, along with an old wristwatch that had been given to officers in the Soviet Navy.
He also gave me an old сберкнижка (sberknizhka) belonging to Masha’s grandfather. It was a Soviet savings passbook—a little like the old bank passbooks that some Canadian banks once used, but much more central to everyday banking in the Soviet Union.
People used them to record their savings and often saved for years toward things like a car or an apartment.
That particular item was especially interesting to me because it wasn’t just a piece of Soviet history. It had belonged to someone in Masha’s family. It represented a real person’s life and savings, and that made it much more meaningful than something I could have simply bought in a souvenir shop.
So I suppose I came home with some clothes, a lot of photographs, a little piece of Soviet family history—and, eventually, my Russian family.
— Are you going back?
Absolutely. I hope so.
Russia became much more than a place I visited. After spending so much time there, particularly in Perovo, I developed a connection to the country that I didn’t expect.
I miss the apartment, the neighbourhood, the Metro, the little shops and cafés, and even the ordinary routines of daily life.
I would love to return to Moscow and spend time in the places I already know, but there is also so much of Russia that I haven’t seen yet. I would love to explore more of the country and experience places that are completely new to me.
And honestly, I hope that one day I can do more than just visit.
I would love to live in Russia someday.
For now, though, I’ll keep learning Russian, keep looking at the thousands of photographs and videos I brought home, and wait for the day I can walk out of that apartment in Perovo again.
So yes — I’m going back. I just don’t know exactly when yet.
* Photos courtesy of Douglas.