Hundreds of thousands of Russians got away the country after Moscow released its major intrusion of Ukraine in February 2022 escaping mobilization, political pressure, or simply looking for a more stable life abroad.
Some have actually given that made the hard and often questionable decision to return.Through in-depth conversations with these returnees, The Moscow Times explores their complicated journeys the seriousness of their departures, the struggles of exile and the bittersweet truth of coming home to an altered Russia.Their stories reveal the personal cost of war, the weight of leaving everything behind and the uneasy sensation of returning to a nation that both is and isnt the same as the one they left.Alexei, 29, left Moscow in September 2022, returned in June 2023When mobilization was announced in the fall of 2022, I left to Turkey in a panic.
At that minute, I didnt care where I just required to escape being sent to Ukraine.
Turkey seemed like the best choice: close, fairly simple documentation, a warm climate and a Russian-speaking community.
However things didnt go as planned.In Istanbul, I rented a house in Avcilar.
The property owner took 3 months lease in advance but didnt formally register the agreement, saying it would be simpler.
That was my first mistake.
When I applied for a house license, I learnt my district was no longer qualified.
Rental costs had actually increased, and property managers were hesitant to lease to Russians without guarantees.
I ultimately found another house and submitted my files, however mass rejections of Russian candidates had actually begun.
No one comprehended the logic some were approved, others werent.
Lots of hypothesized it was political pressure or a move by the Turkish government to curb migration.When my application was rejected, I had three choices: stay unlawfully and risk fines and deportation, attempt another country, or return to Russia.
I was drained pipes economically and mentally.
Another move wasnt an option.
So, I scheduled a flight through Armenia and went back.Landing in Moscow, I recognized Id lost half a year and a small fortune, just to end up where I started.
On the surface, life seemed typical people pretended nothing had actually altered.
I knew it was an impression.
I started sending resumes to foreign companies, wanting to leave again.My greatest lesson? Emigration isnt just about buying a ticket and renting an apartment or condo.
Without a clear method, backup strategy, and legal understanding, you can end up with nothing.
However something is specific I wont stop trying to find my location outside Russia.
I do not want to reside in a military dictatorship.
For me, February 24 has been going on for 3 years and I refuse to be complicit.Anna, 41, left St.
Petersburg in March 2022, returned in July 2024Before the war, my family had been working on getting Israeli passports through my Jewish grandfather.
We had tickets for March 1, 2022, preparing a short trip to settle the documentation.
However then February 24 happened.
We left and never ever came back.It was one of the hardest times in my life.
I owned a little cafe in St.
Petersburg something you cant run from another location.
My partner had an easier time; he worked for an American pharmaceutical company and managed to relocate.
Without his salary, we wouldnt have lasted in Israel.
Our cost savings wouldve gone out in months.Our children, 7 and 11 at the time, struggled the most.
The younger one had just begun school, the older one was in that delicate stage in between childhood and adolescence.
They thought we were going on vacation.
Yes, we discussed the war and Putin, but no kid can totally process something like this.ars wait in line on the roadway for the Verkhny Lars checkpoint on the Russian-Georgian border in September 2022.
Valery Sharifulin/ TASSWe settled in Jerusalem.
The federal government spent for two weeks in hotel quarantine due to Covid.
The kids were going stir-crazy.
We rented a house without seeing it initially, however thankfully, it matched the photos.
My hubby worked from another location, the kids started school and I ultimately discovered a job as a supermarket manager.Then October 7 happened.
We constantly knew Israel was unsteady there had been terrorist attacks and shellings but we never expected something like this.
We were shocked that Israeli intelligence failed so catastrophically.
We had actually relied on the Iron Dome, the army, the security system.
Suddenly, we were going to air-raid shelter several times a day.
We adapted, the kids adjusted, but it was hard.After 2 and a half years, my hubby lost his task.
He searched for another, but couldnt.
My grocery store wage wasnt enough for a household of 4.
The idea of returning had already crossed our minds particularly after the war with Hamas began.
We still had our apartment or condo in St.
Petersburg, our car, our pals.
My coffee bar was still running, managed by my good friend.
When my other half lastly got a job deal in Russia, we decided to go back.Our older child was overjoyed.
She had never ever adapted to Israel.
But returning felt surreal.
St.
Petersburg had altered.
On the drive home from the airport, we saw military recruitment signboards every 200 meters.
Food costs had doubled.
And the environment possibly Im picturing it, but I feel worry in the air.I advise myself: Living in Russia does not make me a criminal.
But I stay up to date with the news, and I understand whats happening in Ukraine needs to never have occurred.
My other half and I have excellent tasks now.
Our children go to an independent school we hope to protect them from propaganda.
Weve cut ties with all the Z-patriots we when knew.
We reside in a bubble.But nothing will ever be the same.
And the thought of leaving again never truly goes away.Sergei, 40, left Nizhny Novgorod in October 2022, returned in November 2024I first thought about leaving in early 2022, but my partner and I had no cost savings or passports.
By the time we got our documents, the preliminary panic had actually decreased.
When mobilization was revealed, the worry hit again.
Friends were leaving some in a rush, others with detailed strategies.
By the time my 5th pal left, I knew we had to go too.We transferred to Turkey in October 2022 with 2 suitcases.
It rapidly became clear that remaining wasnt an option.
Like the majority of Russians, I was denied a residence permit.
No explanations, no clear requirements just rejection.
Some stated it was political, others blamed the real estate crisis.
In any case, we needed to leave.Kirill Kukhmar/ TASSNext, we tried Armenia.
No visa required, comparable culture, lots of Russian expats.
In the beginning, it seemed best.
We found an apartment in Yerevan, made buddies and even began finding out Armenian.
But within a year, it ended up being clear we couldnt stay.
Costs had skyrocketed, Russian bank cards quit working and the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict made whatever unpredictable.
Our cost savings were going out, and my other half, who never ever completely adapted, wanted to go home.At first, returning seemed like a failure.
The more I believed about it, the more I realized it was just another step.
I wasnt conscription age, had actually never served, had no military specialty my danger of being prepared was low.
And life abroad was becoming impossible.Back in Nizhny Novgorod, things were eerily familiar.
People worked, went to bars, and pretended nothing had altered.
There were more Z signs and military billboards, but otherwise, daily life continued.
I had mixed feelings whatever was easier, yet the war was still there, in the background.The hardest part was telling good friends who remained abroad.
Some comprehended, others saw it as a betrayal.
Ive made peace with my choice.
I want to outlive Putins regime.
I wish to be here when it collapses and assist rebuild.For now, I work, save money and keep my choices open.
The future is uncertain all over.
A minimum of here, I know the guidelines of the game.