About                        René Coignard                        Wolfen


   Political activist, human rights defender, and artist from Russia.
   Emigrated to Germany due to politically motivated persecution by the
   Russian government.  Previously known as Mikhail Podivilov.

   This weblog is mainly a space where I share my thoughts and broadcast
   today's agenda.  From time to time, I also write about my personal
   projects and musical compositions, as well as share snippets from my
   latest travels.



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People                          Natasha                    24 April 2024


   A brief note about my dearest friend.  Natasha and I met in Germany
   after I had moved here, and notably, we met twice: our communication
   began on the pages of a website called "Flymer," where people can
   exchange anonymous "notes" with each other.  We lost touch after our
   first encounter, but fate had it that our correspondence resumed
   after some time.

   I must say, I am very pleased and truly cherish our friendship.  It
   seems there has never been someone in my life whom I trust as much as
   I trust you.  We met during a challenging period in our lives, and I
   am sincerely grateful to you for the support you have already
   provided and continue to offer.  I am publishing this note on my
   weblog as an acknowledgment and thanks for everything you do for me.





Projects                         Weblog                    14 April 2024


   This weekend caught me by surprise: usually, after a workweek, I
   dedicate my free time to hanging out with friends or taking trips to
   new cities in Germany via Deutsche Bahn trains.  However, this time
   the weather turned sour for traveling, and my friends already had
   their own plans, so I decided to occupy myself with something
   interesting.  I chose to work on a project I had been contemplating
   for a while - a plain text-based blog engine on PHP.

   As you might have guessed, I succeeded (after all, you are most
   likely reading this text rendered by my engine).  I have long been a
   proponent of minimalism, and running a blog in such a style is
   thrilling for me because it requires neither a database, nor HTML,
   nor CSS - nothing!  Everything is stored in text files, which are
   rendered in a special way when the site is visited.  I was inspired
   by the RFC format, so the blog looks accordingly.

   Currently, the blog engine supports generating sitemap.xml, RSS,
   displaying posts by unique links, categories, and date.  As a bonus,
   you can find a cat on the 404 page if you try hard enough (give it a
   shot).  The blog engine's source code is available on GitHub.


                   https://github.com/coignard/weblog





Life                             * * *                     03 April 2024


   Last year, the Russian state, embodied by police officers from
   Kolomna, stormed into my mother's home and, without any semblance of
   civility, threatened to plant drugs on her to fabricate a criminal
   case against her.  This happened because I had managed to escape to
   Sakartvelo to avoid being chased by the police for speaking out
   against the war and defending human rights.  Realising how serious
   this was, I acted swiftly to bring my mother to join me in
   Sakartvelo, where she remains to this day.  Meanwhile, I've moved to
   Germany on a humanitarian visa for safety reasons.

   Since my brother was also in danger from the authorities, I've
   finally managed to move him from Russia to Sakartvelo as well.  It
   happened just a few days ago, and I still can't quite believe that my
   whole family is now safe and sound out of the country.  Now, as my
   family gets used to life in Sakartvelo, I can relax and move forward
   without worrying about their safety.





Meditations                      Why Be                    29 March 2024


   During my lunch break today, I visited McDonald's and on my way home,
   I heard the intriguing melodies composed by the wind as it conducted
   an orchestra of tree branches and leaves.  It was then that a thought
   struck me: here exists a tree, allowing the wind to flow through its
   crown, rustling away.  Just living, simply existing, untempted by the
   search for its own meaning of life.

   The little bugs crawling on the ground are equally unburdened by the
   quest for life's meaning.  Whether birds might eat them tomorrow
   seems a matter of profound indifference to them.  So what if they do,
   really?  If the birds feast, they feast.  Even the cat, poking its
   head through the fence bars and cautiously observing passersby, is
   blissfully unaware of the need to seek out life's purpose.

   Humans, however, believe they are distinctly different, and indeed,
   they are different in a curious way: while the meaning of any other
   creature's life has been merely to live and, if possible, reproduce,
   humans have craved something more, something much greater.
   Regardless of the magnitude of this artificially constructed
   "meaning," it seldom left them satisfied.

   Humans are haunted by loneliness and dissatisfaction with their
   lives.  It seems as if the answer to "why am I here" could magically
   tune all the discordant strings of the soul and restore a sense of
   inner balance, as well as the once-lost tranquility, serenity, and
   ataraxia.

   Nature is more definitive in these matters: unlike humans, it doesn't
   hypothesize, it knows that there is no special meaning to life
   intended for us; as with animals, the purpose of human existence is
   merely to be alive and try to reproduce, so that all previous
   iterations of existence were not in vain.

   So what to do in the absence of meaning?  Let the wind flow through
   the crown of your hair and rustle.  Peek your head through the fence
   bars and cautiously watch the world go by.  Will you die tomorrow?
   To hell with death, truly.  If it comes, it comes.

   A person will stop searching for the meaning of life, and for the
   first time, with wonder, see this world through the eyes of their
   inner child, once cornered by their own doing.  They'll start to live
   and, having taken a hundred steps across the endless fields the color
   of the sun, they'll pause.  They'll pause and, spreading their arms,
   will run with all their might...  simply because they can run.
   Because they are alive and they exist.  They'll run not with a
   predetermined and meticulously calculated purpose, but just because.

   And they shall make merry and laugh.  And they shall be happy.

   In that instant, a part of their former "self" that demanded meaning
   on this senseless planet will die.  In that instant, they may finally
   understand all the living beings that surrounded them before.
   Perhaps they'll even begin to treat nature more gently, feeling once
   again a part of it.  Perhaps.  Who knows.  Yet there will be no more
   searching for meaning, nor the desire to embark on that quest again.

   And thus, life begins.





Life                             Wolfen                    25 March 2024


   On the 16th of January this year, precisely a day after my birthday,
   I left Sakartvelo and surrendered myself to the brisk embrace of
   Germany.  By that time, not even a year had passed since my departure
   from Russia, yet I had already changed two countries.  Sakartvelo, in
   any case, was never perceived as a country I wanted to stay in for
   long, despite the fact that Kutaisi and my battered apartment there
   had become dear to me: the authorities of Sakartvelo with enviable
   regularity deny entry to political activists with Russian citizenship
   after a "visa run," which had already happened to at least two of my
   friends.

   Two years after the onset of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine
   and the accompanying adventures tied to my political persecution by
   Russian authorities for my anti-war statements and human rights
   activities, I yearned to finally take a breath and settle in a
   peaceful place where I could soberly contemplate my future plan of
   action for the "Life of René Coignard" project.  Due to the war, my
   planning horizon had been reduced to a mere week, sometimes even just
   a few days or hours.  However, after moving to Germany, the planning
   horizon expanded to five years: precisely the time required to live
   here to obtain citizenship.  Yes, I want to acquire German
   citizenship.

   Initially, I planned to emigrate to France, but the local authorities
   dragged their feet for too long processing my application for a
   humanitarian visa (issued to citizens of the Russian Federation who
   are persecuted in their home country on political grounds; legally
   not considered and in no way connected to asylum).  In contrast, the
   German Federal Foreign Office (Auswärtiges Amt) processed my
   application much more swiftly.  In just six months, indeed.
   Honestly, I had all but forgotten about the humanitarian visa when I
   received a message from the German Federal Foreign Office stating
   that it had finally been approved.  This happened just a couple of
   weeks after I parted ways with my beloved, and to this day, the
   situation seems to carry a certain comedic twist: just as I began to
   recover from the sudden blow, the Universe seemed to pat me on the
   shoulder and say, "Well, things happen.  Here, take this humanitarian
   visa and go to Germany, cheer up." As if offering candy to a crying
   child, just to alleviate their sorrow.

   I immediately filled out the visa application and took it to the
   German consulate in Tbilisi.  A month of waiting, a couple more
   appointments (or "Termin" as the Germans call it) and voilà: a
   consulate officer hands me my passport, now adorned with a shiny new
   Type "D" multi-visa valid for three months.  Around the same time, I
   learned that I had been allocated to the town of Bitterfeld-Wolfen in
   the state of Saxony-Anhalt, using the "Königstein key." The
   "Königstein key" is a method for distributing refugees across
   Germany, ensuring an even spread across the federal states based on
   tax revenue and population size, which is quite logical.
   Incidentally, my chance of being allocated to Saxony-Anhalt was a
   mere 2.75%, and it was far more likely for me to end up in North
   Rhine-Westphalia, where 21 out of 100 are allocated.  But of course,
   that makes sense: it's the western part of Germany, with a
   correspondingly larger budget.

   At the time of writing this note, I have already navigated all the
   bureaucracy due upon my arrival in Germany: I've registered my
   residence, arranged health insurance, opened a bank account, and even
   secured a residence permit for three years.  Despite many warnings
   about the voluminous paperwork here, I didn't feel a high entry
   barrier into German bureaucracy, particularly because, back in
   Russia, I had dealt with even greater volumes of bureaucratic tasks.
   On the contrary, in a burst of enthusiasm, I even sent a few letters
   to the local archive to learn more about the history of the city
   where I had settled.  The archival staff were delighted by my sudden
   interest and responded in detail to my queries.  Let's talk about
   that.

   First and foremost, I was curious about the meaning and origin of the
   word "Anhalt" in the names "Sachsen-Anhalt" and "Anhalt-Bitterfeld."
   It turns out that the name "Anhalt" traces back to a namesake
   ancestral castle of the Ascanians, located near Harzgerode.
   Initially, I assumed that "Anhalt" could be literally translated as
   "stop," which in a historical context would be synonymous with
   "encampment." This turned out to be the case: Anhalt is derived from
   the late Middle High German anhalt "stopping point" - a topographic
   name for someone living near a slope "an" (at) + "halt" (hillside).

   As for Bitterfeld-Wolfen, the city where I settled, things are not so
   straightforward either: initially, I thought that "Bitterfeld"
   literally meant "bitter land," but no: Bitterfeld is a Flemish
   settlement (i.e., Dutch), and the first syllable in the city's name
   could be a Dutch male name: "Piet".  Thus, the historical location
   could refer to Pieters Feld (German: Peters Feld/Acker).  It might
   also be a nod to the nearby villages of Petersroda and Petersberg.
   Moreover, the prefix "Bitter" could derive from the Dutch word
   "better" (I think there is no need and even possibility to translate
   this word, its meaning is obvious).  Thus, Betterfeld (Besserfeld)
   could have been a fertile area that existed here in times past.

   Regarding Wolfen, this name relates to the surname of its founder.
   Until 2007, Wolfen was an independent town, but later it was annexed
   to Bitterfeld (along with the communities of Greppin, Holzweißig, and
   Thalheim) and became its district, with the city being renamed
   Bitterfeld-Wolfen.  Wolfen is first mentioned in the writing Wulffen
   in a feudal charter around 1400.  Archaeological findings date the
   founding of Wolfen to the mid-12th century, thus to the main period
   of German conquest.  It is assumed that the founder of Wolfen bore a
   personal name starting with Wolf.  According to the Saxon dialect of
   the Low German language spoken in the region at the time, it should
   have started with Wulff.

   An interesting fact: Wolfen has a twin town in Russia-Dzerzhinsk.
   There's also one in France: Villefontaine.  The current population of
   Wolfen is a mere 15,000 people, which is quite noticeable: after
   moving here, I often found myself wandering the city for several
   hours without seeing a soul on its streets.  I can't say that this
   depresses me; on the contrary: I rather enjoy it.  Only occasionally
   do I feel a bit forlorn when I'm in the Wolfen Nord area: there, the
   DDR atmosphere is well preserved with its countless concrete
   high-rises, which often trigger flashbacks of life in Russia.

   Incidentally, all these high-rises were mainly constructed for the
   workers of the "Wolfen" film factory, built by Agfa in 1909 and
   manufacturing photographic film.  Interestingly, colour film was
   invented right here in Wolfen, in 1936, but then the patent was
   confiscated by American forces in 1945 and handed over to the
   American company Kodak.  After the war, film production continued and
   in 1953 was handed over to the DDR as the VEB Film- und
   Chemiefaserwerk Agfa Wolfen.  In 1964, the brand name was changed
   from Agfa to ORWO (Original Wolfen).  In 1994, the entire factory was
   liquidated.

   The Wolfen Nord district is typical of so-called satellite towns in
   Eastern Germany, characterized by prefabricated buildings and, since
   1990, suffering from unemployment, high levels of vacant housing, and
   emigration.  Wolfen Nord was built between the 1960s and 1980s
   primarily for the working population of all classes from the Wolfen
   film factory, the Bitterfeld chemical complex, the Bitterfeld pipe
   factory, and other industrial and educational sectors.  From about
   33,000 residents (in 1993), by the end of 2008, just over 11,000
   remained.  Vacant housing became the district's biggest issue as
   people moved to more attractive areas.  This is precisely why I
   encountered no problems finding accommodation here.

   Although some of my friends do not share my peculiar affection for
   this city, the chapter of my life titled "Germany" opened for me on
   the pages of this city called Wolfen, and I am very glad that by the
   structure of the moment, I ended up precisely in this corner of the
   infinite Universe.





Politics                  Alexei Navalny Dead           16 February 2024


   In a world that craves justice and aches for truth, we're pierced by
   the shattering news that feels like a sledgehammer to our collective
   conscience: Alexei Navalny is dead.  This headline, a grim and stark
   reality, should never have had to be written.  Instead, we should be
   reading a very different name in that tragic declaration-Putin.

   It is with a seething fury and a heavy heart that I pen these words.
   Navalny, the man who dared to look corruption in the eye and
   challenge the iron-fisted rule of Putin, has been extinguished in the
   most cowardly manner within the grim confines of a prison cell.  His
   death is not just a loss but an indictment of a regime that fears
   truth to such an extent that it would choke out its very breath.

   The headline that screams from the page is a brutal reminder of the
   price of dissent in Putin's Russia.  It's a stark warning to those
   brave enough to stand against a system that thrives on fear and
   thrives on suppression.  Navalny's demise is nothing short of
   political murder, a desperate act to silence a voice that roared too
   loudly for the comfort of the Kremlin's despots.

   Navalny should have been leading Russia into a new era of reform,
   transparency and democracy.  Instead, his name is now a byword for
   the ultimate sacrifice in the face of authoritarian brutality.  The
   world must not let this stand.  We must not let the flame that
   Navalny ignited be snuffed out by the treacherous winds of tyranny.

   This isn't just about one man; it's about the very essence of what it
   means to be free, to have the liberty to speak out against the
   machinery of oppression without the shadow of death looming over you.
    Navalny's blood is now on Putin's hands, and it is a stain that time
   will never wash away.

   We must channel our anguish, our outrage, our raw, unfiltered wrath
   into a clarion call for action.  This cannot be the end of the story.
    It must be the beginning of a renewed, relentless struggle for the
   freedom.  We must demand accountability, not just from those who
   wield power with such cruel disdain for human life, but from
   ourselves, to stand up and fight for the ideals that Navalny's life
   and death represent.

   It is now our duty to ensure that Navalny did not die in vain.  We
   must carry the torch of his legacy with unshakeable resolve, lighting
   the dark corners of repression and igniting the sparks of change.
   Let us transform our grief into a force that cannot-and will not-be
   ignored.

   Navalny, your spirit will continue to haunt the corridors of power in
   Russia.  You may no longer walk among us, but your fight for freedom,
   your indomitable will, lives on.  The Kremlin may think they have
   won, but they have only fuelled the fires of resistance.

   To those who wield power unjustly, remember this: you can kill the
   revolutionary, but you can never kill the revolution.  Navalny is
   dead, but the struggle is far from over.  It's just begun.

   Rest in peace, Alexei.  We will not rest until justice prevails.





Music                          Charlotte                 20 October 2023


   Throughout our journey with Charlotte, I was inspired to compose
   delicate musical pieces for her.  Recently, I've gathered them into
   a compilation, titled "Charlotte."

   Just like music, life has its crescendos and decrescendos, its
   moments of harmony and dissonance.  Though our romantic chapter has
   concluded, I take solace in viewing it as a brief, yet unforgettable
   musical piece.


             https://coignard.bandcamp.com/track/charlotte





Life                      Crossing Boundaries          24 September 2023


   On 21 September of last year, I held my final anti-war picket
   in Russia.  Just three days later, I was forced to leave my hometown
   due to police persecution, temporarily placing my fate in the hands
   of The Unknown.  As you might guess, I'm writing this note
   for a reason: today marks exactly one year since I left Ozyory.

   At the moment I was leaving my hometown, I was unaware that
   the police were looking for me; I only found out a few days later.
   Another two weeks passed before I found out that my mother had been
   taken in for questioning by criminal investigators, and that I was
   wanted.

   It's heartening to realise that, as of now, my life is not under any
   immediate threat.  Even more gratifying is the fact that, thanks
   to my "escape", I was also able to evacuate my mother from
   the clutches of the Russian Federation, where her continued stay
   promised nothing good.

   This vast journey, which began exactly one year ago, continues
   to this day.  In this year, many events have occurred: good and bad,
   joyous and sad, happy and tragic.  I find it rather amusing that I
   left Ozyory as Mikhail Podivilov, but arrived in Sakartvelo as René
   Coignard.

   Despite facing numerous challenges along the way, and being fully
   aware that I'll still have to face and overcome many burdens
   and adversities in the future, I recognise that I'm always moving
   forward.  A bright future awaits me, and I'm the only one who can
   author it.  I will surely create this bright future.  I am creating
   it right now.





Music                    Un automne à Koutaïssi        23 September 2023


   Over the past few weeks, I've been going through a rather difficult
   period in my life and, as is my habit, thanks to the hardships I've
   endured, I've composed a short musical piece for piano and violin
   which I've named "Un automne à Koutaïssi".

   It's curious that a large portion of my musical compositions were
   written during times when I felt particularly down and depressed.  I
   wrote this new piece to the backdrop of the autumn sets in in my
   city, which so unmistakably heralds the approach of the end.


        https://coignard.bandcamp.com/track/un-automne-kouta-ssi





Politics                 Mobilisation in Russia        21 September 2023


   Exactly a year ago, on 21 September 2022, as Russia continued its
   full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Kremlin declared a "partial"
   mobilisation.  This initial phase, which endured through the autumn
   of 2022, witnessed the summoning of an estimated 300,000 individuals.
    This strategic step was taken by Russia to bolster its units that
   had incurred significant losses during the initial phases
   of the aggression and to establish over 75 new "territorial"
   regiments, which are now operative on the frontline.

   Russian officials have stated that they will persist in their fight
   with the aid of volunteers and that they have an objective to recruit
   420,000 contract soldiers in 2023.  However, this target appears
   ambitious, and the Kremlin's assertions of success are greeted with
   doubt.  From September to December 2022, a mere 20,000 volunteers
   were enlisted, and it remains ambiguous if this figure has risen
   appreciably since then.

   Concurrently, Russian forces persist in enduring heavy losses.
   By the close of May 2023, the Russian Armed Forces and the Wagner
   Group had suffered an estimated 47,000 men killed in action.  From
   May to September, another 15,000 soldiers are believed to have been
   lost.  Furthermore, about 50,000 contracts of pardoned prisoners who
   had previously served in the Wagner Group were ended in 2023.

   As per the Russian Defence Ministry's strategy, the army is set
   to augment by half a million individuals.  Two new armies and an army
   corps were on the agenda to be founded in 2023.  Yet, even if
   the initiative to recruit new contract soldiers is fruitful,
   the ambition to enhance the army's dimensions is at risk.

   Moreover, a rotation of the 2022 mobilisation cohort may soon be
   imperative.  Compelling them to combat until the Ukraine campaign's
   conclusive end could prove dear for the Russian command.  Absent
   a change of personnel, units might witness a decline in their combat
   efficacy.

   The sole uncertainty is pinpointing when the second phase
   of mobilisation will commence.  Nevertheless, the protraction
   of the conflict in Ukraine makes this occurrence increasingly
   probable and imminent.





Tech                     ProtonMail + WKD = <3         14 September 2023


   Today, I unexpectedly discovered that ProtonMail can automatically
   encrypt emails for recipients who have WKD (which stands for "Web Key
   Directory") set up.  This feature allows email clients
   to automatically retrieve copies of PGP public keys over the HTTPS
   protocol.

   In other words, if someone uses ProtonMail and wants to send me
   an email, ProtonMail will recognise that I have a PGP key, retrieve
   its public portion using WKD, and encrypt the email before sending
   it.  Consequently, I'd receive an email encrypted specifically
   for me.





Politics               Voice of Election Hotline       13 September 2023


   For the first time in a long while, I was unable to observe
   the Russian elections firsthand.  I am currently in Sakartvelo,
   and until Putin's regime falls, it seems I won't be returning to my
   homeland.  Nevertheless, even though I couldn't be physically present
   at the elections, I managed to participate in them.  This year,
   for the first time, I volunteered at the election observers' support
   hotline.

   For security reasons, I cannot share the internal workings
   of the hotline, such as the number of participants, the specifics
   of an operator's duties, or the details of calls received.  However,
   I can say that it was an immensely rewarding and enlightening
   experience.  It allowed me to assist numerous individuals, including
   voters and observers, and deepen my understanding of electoral law.

   I was pleasantly surprised when an voter, well-versed in electoral
   law, contacted the hotline to report a violation at his polling
   station.  I guided him on how to draft and submit a complaint
   to the local election commission.  He reached out to me several times
   for clarification on the complaint submission process, and,
   in the end, he successfully reported the election violation.

   I also fielded calls from observers asking about the mechanics
   of the remote e-voting system.  This platform allows voters to cast
   their votes remotely without visiting their polling stations.
   Unfortunately, this system has some serious flaws that, I believe,
   enable the Russian government to tamper with the voting outcomes.
   During these elections, numerous reports emerged of voters being
   pressured to engage in e-voting.

   Beyond my hotline duties, I also had the honor of contacting past
   election observers to invite them to monitor the current elections.
   While I was able to recruit only a handful of individuals, I am
   thrilled to have had this chance to support the strengthening
   of Russia's civil society.  I am hopeful that once the political
   situation stabilizes, I'll have another opportunity to participate
   in the elections as an independent observer.

   Contrary to what one might expect, working as a hotline operator was
   not stressful.  In fact, after my shift, I felt invigorated and full
   of life.  I cherish interacting with people and, more significantly,
   value being a part of a team that aids in protecting the rights
   and freedoms of my fellow citizens.  Until I can return to Russia, I
   intend to continue serving in future elections as a hotline operator.
    The experience was truly fulfilling.





Life                     The Sakartvelo Chapter        12 September 2023


   Exactly six months ago, at five in the morning, I passed through
   border control in Sakartvelo and found myself at Tbilisi
   International Airport.  Thus concluded my escape from the Russian
   police, who had been persecuting me for my anti-war stance.  This
   journey had started in September of the previous year and only
   concluded in March of this year.

   These have probably been the most productive six months of my life.
   An incredible number of events have occurred during this period,
   and I'll likely never have the opportunity to tell the full story
   of them all.  Although, perhaps if I write my memoirs one day, I will
   certainly strive to remember every detail.  Today, however, I want
   to focus on the most significant ones.

   My first night after arriving in Sakartvelo was spent at Ivan
   Drobotov's flat, and I'd like to extend my thanks to him once again.
   Following that, I spent two weeks living in a shelter.  After my time
   there, I moved to a different shelter for a brief period.  Finally, I
   settled into a rented room in a house near the Marjanishvili metro
   station.  There, I met Maxim Ivantsov and many other equally
   fascinating people.

   Thanks to Maxim, I conducted a lecture series called "Privacy Day"
   in the educational space "Frame." Importantly for me, I also
   organized my first CryptoParty.  During this event, participants
   exchanged PGP keys and went a step further by signing them for each
   other.  In addition, I held a lecture on personal productivity
   methodologies like "Getting Things Done" and goal management
   strategies such as "Agile Results."

   I was also fortunate to find remote work as a DevOps engineer
   at a Cypriot IT company, complete with a wonderful team
   and a competitive salary.  This job allowed me to get my mother out
   of Russia, where she had been unfairly targeted by the police.  They
   had visited her and threatened to fabricate drug charges against her
   in order to open a criminal case, all because of my anti-war stance.

   I didn't want to stay in Tbilisi, as it was too noisy and large
   for my liking, so I moved to Kutaisi.  I settled near the railway
   station, which allowed me, for the first time in many years, to visit
   the sea via a direct train.  Kutaisi seemed more peaceful, quiet,
   and clean compared to Tbilisi.

   In August, Charlotte, my beloved from France, came to visit me
   to spend our joint vacation together.  We visited Tbilisi, Kutaisi,
   Tskhaltubo, the Prometheus Cave, Poti, and journeyed up
   to the mountains in Svaneti and Mestia.  We had a wonderful time
   together and were fortunate to share many very special moments.  It
   was an extraordinary and unique adventure.

   After our vacation with Charlotte, my close friend Ivan
   Aleksandrovich came to visit me.  The last time we had met was
   in Russia in February of the previous year, just a couple of weeks
   before the onset of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.  I was genuinely
   pleased to see my friend again and, if I get the opportunity
   in the future, hope to visit him in the Czech Republic, where he now
   resides.

   Importantly, I was also able to address many health issues that had
   been plaguing me since I began hiding from the police in Russia.  I
   must admit it was quite stressful, and my body was thoroughly worn
   out over those six months.  However, I now feel full of energy
   and ready for new achievements.

   I want to thank everyone who has supported me throughout this long
   journey: my wonderful mum, my amazing brother, my incredible friends,
   and my dear Charlotte.  Thank you all for everything you've done
   for me.  I really appreciate and love you.  Be happy, my dear
   friends.

   These have been remarkable six months.  Let's see what life has
   in store for me, my family, and my friends in the foreseeable future.





Meditations               Relative Comparison          11 September 2023


   Following up on my previous note, I'd like to make a few important
   additions.  Our sense of happiness is strongly influenced by what is
   known as "relative comparison": this occurs when we feel uneasy about
   the gap between what we already have and the desired level we wish
   to attain.

   Moreover, our sense of happiness is also affected by our prior
   expectations: for instance, if we have had a very enjoyable vacation,
   it's likely that in the future we will measure our happiness against
   that previous successful experience, expecting that, at a minimum, we
   will once again have a similar experience and the same emotions.
   Generally speaking, we want our current situation to be as good
   as our previous positive experience.

   In such cases, to alleviate constant frustration and cognitive
   dissonance caused by the mismatch between our expectations
   and reality, it's sufficient to reasonably lower our expectations
   of the current moment and life in general.  Obviously, this must be
   approached with full seriousness, as excessive lowering
   of expectations can lead to unhappiness.

   Lowering expectations allows us to break free from the chains
   of "deferred life syndrome," as learning to be content with little,
   but present, things - in the current moment - gives us
   the opportunity to let go of grand expectations that reside somewhere
   in a distant future that will never come; after all, the future
   doesn't exist, it's merely a figment of our imagination.  We gain
   the opportunity to be content with what we have, rather than what we
   wish to have.

   As Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius said,


             "No man is happy until he thinks himself so."


   Indeed, expecting that we'll only be happy when we "reach some goal"
   or "attain a certain moment" deprives us of the opportunity
   to consider ourselves happy right now, as we will inevitably expect
   happiness to come only after certain life conditions are met.  And we
   will never be happy in such a case.

   However, reasoning itself and, in principle, any philosophy are
   worthless if a person does not make conscious efforts to apply
   the acquired knowledge to their own life.  Personally, I believe that
   one cannot become happy; one can only be happy, and be so right now:
   after all, we only have control over the current moment, and we have
   no influence over the future, which is entirely beyond our control.

   From this follows that to achieve happiness, it is enough to have
   the desire to be happy (surprise!) and then allow oneself
   to experience aesthetic pleasure in the context of one's own life:
   to find beauty in all manifestations of the current moment
   and everything that surrounds us right now.  We should constantly ask
   ourselves where we are, and if the answer is "the future"
   or "the past," one must make conscious attempts to return
   to the present - the only destination where happiness is possible.





Meditations              The Right to Be Happy         10 September 2023


   I spent the whole last week contemplating why, despite
   the qualitative improvement in my quality of life, I still can't seem
   to derive enough satisfaction from it.  Indeed, if I compare my
   current life with how it was a year ago, everything has radically
   changed for the better: I now live in a safe country (not Russia)
   and work in a job I like, I have found the love of my life, I've
   moved my mother to Sakartvelo and no longer worry about her safety,
   and have moved to a city that I wholeheartedly adore.  So why can't I
   still find satisfaction in the life I have now?

   In psychology, there's a term called "negativity bias" - it's
   a feature of our brain's functioning that causes us to focus more on
   negative information than positive.  From an evolutionary standpoint,
   this is entirely justified: our ancestors lived in conditions where
   resource scarcity and predators were daily realities, and quick,
   effective responses to negative stimuli could greatly increase
   chances of survival.  The survival itself was the cost of failure
   every now and then, so only those with negativity bias used
   to survive: for example, those who heard a noise in the bushes
   and assumed it was a predator rather than just the wind.

   Nowadays, of course, it's unlikely that a predator will suddenly
   pounce on us from a bush, but this mechanism continues to operate
   as if we lived thousands of years ago.  Here's an example: imagine
   you have achieved all the goals we set in your life.  So, you've got
   your own home, your own car, a family, a job you love, and peace
   around you.  But then, let's say, you develop a toothache, and now
   neither your own home, nor your car, nor your beloved job can fully
   compensate for the negative emotions you are overwhelmed with because
   of this ailment.  In summary, we have built a civilization,
   but the firmware in our brains remains rather archaic.

   Moving on.  There's also something called "hedonic adaptation": this
   is when we quickly get used to the good things.  Roughly speaking, if
   you repeatedly perform a pleasant action, the intensity
   of the positive emotions derived from it is going to exponentially
   decrease over time.  For example, upon entering a relationship, many
   feel like they are on cloud nine, but after living together
   for a while they fall into melancholy and sadness, often breaking
   the relationship because they feel that "the love has gone"
   and "everything has become monotonous." This, by the way, is one
   reason why I prefer Long-Distance Relationships - yes, people in such
   relationships see each other less often, but the experience gained
   from less frequent encounters is almost always more vivid than if
   these meetings happened on a regular basis.

   Hedonic adaptation is a good explanation for why people so often
   strive for "bigger and better," but rarely experience long-term
   happiness from their achievements.  Again, from an evolutionary
   standpoint, the existence of hedonic adaptation makes sense:
   for example, in the distant past, people discovered how to make fire.
    This is much more pleasant than sitting and freezing at night
   without it.  But eventually, they grew accustomed to the warmth from
   the bonfire - and it wasn't a big leap from there to skyscrapers with
   central heating.  Essentially, many of the benefits of civilisation
   that we enjoy today are partly due to hedonic adaptation
   and a constant nagging feeling that "everything is stale," "there's
   not enough," and "to be happy, I want to have more than I have now."
   And because of negativity bias, we adapt far worse to bad things than
   to good things.  Sic!

   Now, Monsieur Dopamine enters our (already rather sad) story.
   The good news is that it has absolutely nothing to do with happiness,
   although it is often erroneously referred to as the "happiness
   hormone." It is thanks to this hormone that any achievement turns
   into yet another disappointment, because - surprise!  - dopamine is
   responsible not for happiness, but for motivation.  In rough terms,
   dopamine is the hormone of anticipated happiness.  You need it
   to keep going until you reach your goal, even if you don't yet see
   the results.  An example: you save money from your salary for several
   months to buy a new iPhone and eagerly await the purchase, yet just
   a few days after buying it, you realise it's not that big of a deal.
   All because dopamine level starts to decrease.

   It's important to remember that we are the descendants of people who
   were most dissatisfied with their lives.  Because if, in the ancient
   times, a person preferred to take a short nap in the shade instead
   of constantly striving to find food, they risked becoming prey
   themselves.  The moment following the achievement of a goal is always
   less pleasant than the moment before achieving it.  That's because
   when you're chasing a mammoth, you feel exhilarated and excited,
   but once the mammoth is killed, you realise you still have to butcher
   and cook it, and then eat it, and then hunt for a new mammoth...
   It's all a long chain of problems!  You had a purpose just a moment
   ago, and now it's gone - taken away.  Killed along with the mammoth.

   The constant pursuit for a better life, coupled with hedonic
   adaptation, makes you feel like happiness is just around the corner;
   you just have to wait a little longer or speed up.  But days, months,
   and years pass, and there's no happiness - only dissatisfaction with
   life and constant self-deceit: "happiness will come, but only later."
   As a result, there is no happiness in the past, present, or future -
   nowhere.  When we treat the present moment as the preparation
   for a future in which happiness will definitely come, we deceive
   ourselves: in this case, we risk ending up in a future that will
   inevitably turn into the present, and we are not accustomed
   to waiting for happiness in the present - and thus, a wonderful
   future turns into a dreary present.

   The conclusion is straightforward: if we're not living in the present
   moment, there's no point in planning for the future.  Because when
   that future becomes the present, when "that long-awaited event"
   occurs, we'll rob ourselves of the chance to feel happy by being
   preoccupied with building up expectations for a new happy future.
   There's no happiness in the future, and it's no use to search for it
   there.  In fact, it's pointless to search for happiness at all:
   happiness should not be an end in itself.  In most cases, we
   experience anxiety and restlessness precisely because we can't live
   in the present moment.  For some strange reason, it seems inadequate
   to us.  This makes sense: no matter how good the present life is, our
   brain has the remarkable ability to envision an even more wonderful
   future and make us suffer from the mismatch between reality
   and expectations.

   We're constantly chasing happiness and end up unhappy in the present.
    Therefore, to become happy, we need to stop chasing an unattainable
   future and stay in the present, embracing it with all its pros
   and cons.  We need to stop treating the present as something
   inadequate.  We must see it as the only kind of reality accessible
   to us.  We must understand that neither the past nor the future exist
   - they are merely constructs of our brain - and only the present
   moment truly exists.  A simple formula: if we think we will be happy
   in the future, we automatically become unhappy in the present.
   And by denying ourselves happiness now, we deny ourselves happiness
   forever.  Paradoxically, the only way to become happy is to stop
   striving for happiness; to give up on happiness as an end goal.

   Equally important, happiness shouldn't be dependent on another person
   or any material thing.  True happiness is always unconditional
   and doesn't require the presence of anything or anyone.

   Here, I'll make a clarification about what I personally understand
   by happiness.  Since I adhere to Stoic philosophy, the term that
   comes closest to describing happiness for me is "ataraxia." Ataraxia
   is a state of mental tranquility, equanimity, serenity, and complete
   absence of fear.

   Life is a game, and for some odd reason, its first rule is
   to consider it not a game but serious business.  A greater mistake is
   to believe that life is a path or even an obstacle course.  This
   concept has a significant flaw: every path must lead somewhere.
   A path is akin to a goal.  But life can't have an ultimate goal;
   otherwise, at some point, we'd reach that goal and be deprived
   of the purpose of life.  This is what makes life beautiful.  We've
   always misunderstood life, thinking it's a path, but actually, it's
   a musical composition.

   Life has been a musical piece since the very first day of our
   existence, something aimless, the value of which is evenly
   distributed among all its parts, just as it is in music.  From
   the first day of our lives, nothing has been required of us except
   to enjoy the present moment, to sing and dance while the record
   called "life" plays.

   Our aversion to the present moment and attempts to live in the future
   (which is impossible) are due to our outdated mental firmware.  You
   can download a new version of the firmware either by reading this
   text, or, if that doesn't work, with the help of a therapist:
   essentially, that's what they do - update obsolete worldviews
   as perceived by our ancient brain, and replace them with more
   accurate and modern ones.





Reviews                          Klaus                 10 September 2023


   "Klaus" is an animated film by Spanish director Sergio Pablos.  What
   immediately struck me was the visual style of the animation:
   throughout the viewing, I savoured this deliberately vibrant
   and touching atmosphere with no less vibrant characters.
   Interestingly, the director of the film also contributed
   to the screenplay for "Despicable Me," yet in the styles of these two
   films, I could only identify one similarity - the way the external
   features of the characters are exaggerated in accordance with their
   personalities.

   So, this is a wonderful film that successfully combines beautiful
   visual animation style with an intriguing plot and profound themes.
   At the centre of the narrative is Jesper - an infantile young man
   whose father owns a postal company.  One day, his father decides
   to put an end to his son's spoilt behaviour and sends him to mature
   at the northernmost town of Smeerensburg to organise a post office
   and process at least six thousand letters within a year.
   An interesting fact: the town's name is derived from the Dutch
   "Smeerenburg" - a former settlement on Amsterdam Island founded
   by Danish and Dutch whalers in 1614.

   Upon arriving on the island, Jesper discovers that the town is home
   to two clans that are in a state of constant feuding.  Clearly,
   the townspeople are not interested in letters; their only concern is
   causing harm to each other.  Jesper realises that he is not destined
   to process the required six thousand letters and falls into despair.
   However, one day he accidentally discovers a remote location on
   the map, where a mysterious grey-haired old man named Klaus lives.
   Klaus is a reclusive woodsman and carpenter who has his own
   woodworking shop and a multitude of toys made by his own hands.

   Jesper arrived on an island where senseless fighting between the two
   clans never ceased for even a day.  Both clans had long forgotten
   what they were feuding for - their leaders claimed they were fighting
   each other because it was their "legacy," and all their past
   generations had also fought each other.  (Thus, it seemed logical
   to them that they should continue feuding with each other.)

   The director uses allegory to mock the social stereotype that one
   must unquestionably accept their ancestors' legacy, even if it
   contains inherent flaws.  For example, Russia comes to mind - its
   government is so obsessed with its historical past that, rather than
   advancing and aspiring towards a brighter, freer future, the country
   seems stuck in the last century, adopting all the most aggressive
   repressive practices from the times of the Soviet Union.

   In reality, the animated film doesn't have any hidden subtext:
   the entire film revolves around the phrase


              "A true selfless act always sparks another."


   Frankly, this is what captivated me about the film: it's simple,
   but for that reason, it felt incredibly authentic to me.  As the plot
   unfolds, Jesper befriends Klaus and together they create and give
   toys to the children of the town of Smeerensburg, revitalising
   and transforming the town in the process.  There is a stark contrast
   between the town as it was in the beginning and how it becomes after
   Jesper's arrival (though initially upon arriving in the city, Jesper
   had no intention of changing himself, let alone changing anything
   in the city.)

   To reinforce the phrase I mentioned in the previous paragraph, Jesper
   transforms from a childish young man into a self-sufficient, mature,
   and complete adult - all thanks to Klaus's kindness, which enabled
   Jesper to perform a good deed and witness the result.  In the end,
   Jesper even takes a bold step: when his father comes to take him
   back, he refuses to return to his luxurious life - Jesper stays
   in Smeerensburg, with Klaus and his new love, Alva.

   The film also teaches empathy and demonstrates that there are
   no truly bad people in the world: the fates of all the characters
   transform throughout the film - both Jesper and members
   of the feuding clans.  In the end, there isn't a single truly
   negative character left: each finds their place in life and shows
   their brighter side.  The same holds true in the real world - there
   are no truly evil people, only those whose darker sides temporarily
   suppress the good.  Darkness does not exist - there is only
   the absence of light.  Most often, this is coupled with some sort
   of unhappiness, as a genuinely happy person would be unlikely
   to intentionally harm others.  For the unhappy, one can only feel
   compassion; they're already suffering enough.





Life                          Cold Showers             08 September 2023


   I recently stumbled upon the benefits of cold showers quite
   unexpectedly.  It turns out this is one of the few ways to legally
   receive a dose of dopamine that lasts in your system for up to six
   hours.  Surprisingly, it really works: now I start every morning with
   a cold shower and feel invigorated and full of energy all day long.

   I take a cold shower every morning, lasting anywhere from thirty
   seconds to one minute.  The next stage is a contrast shower: this is
   when you stand under a warm shower for one to two minutes, followed
   by a cold shower for ten to twenty seconds.

   I highly recommend it to everyone.





Projects                   Path to Acceptance             31 August 2023


   I volunteer for an LGBTQ+ group called "Coming Out", which advocates
   for the rights of LGBTQ+ individuals in Russia.  The aim of "Coming
   Out" is to secure equal rights for everyone at both the state
   and societal levels, irrespective of their sexual orientation
   and gender identity.  The group has been operating since 2008.

   In June, upon "Coming Out's" request,
   I developed a Telegram-based chatbot named "Path to Acceptance." This
   chatbot is designed to facilitate discussions about LGBTQ+ topics
   with those who may not be knowledgeable in this area.  The bot seeks
   to assist the LGBTQ+ community in conveying thoughts on equality,
   non-discrimination, and acceptance in a precise and scholarly manner.
    It relies on factual language and cites credible research
   and publications.

   The LGBTQ+ team at "Coming Out" has deconstructed stereotypes
   and myths about the queer community.  For each homo-, bi-
   or transphobic argument, they have identified a counterargument and,
   where possible, added supplementary materials to help people better
   understand the subject.  In the new version of the bot, which was
   published today, there are 25 new responses to queerphobic statements
   and a guide from a "Coming Out" psychologist on how to have
   a sensitive conversation with loved ones.

   In the next update, information about pan- and polyphobic arguments,
   asexuality, and polyamory will be added.  Furthermore, existing
   categories will be expanded, and any issues or concerns raised
   by the bot's users will be addressed.


                   https://t.me/queer_acceptance_bot





Reviews                  My Life as a Courgette           29 August 2023


   Today, I had the wonderful opportunity to get acquainted with
   the animated film "My Life as a Courgette" by Swiss director
   and animator Claude Barras.  Being impressed after watching the film,
   I am eager to share my thoughts with you, which relate both to this
   remarkable work and to life in general.

   The main character of the film is a boy named Icare, the French
   version of Icarus, who asks to be called Courgette (which translates
   from French as "zucchini" in American English).  Courgette grew up
   in a dysfunctional family and, due to an unfortunate accident, killed
   his alcoholic mother.  Subsequently, Courgette ended up
   in an orphanage, which some other orphans unambiguously refer
   to as "prison."

   The plot of the film can be taken quite straightforwardly, without
   trying to look for any deeper meaning.  However, I noticed
   an interesting thought that the director perhaps wanted to convey
   to the viewer: the orphanage serves as a sort of microcosm of our
   world, an allegory for the common misconception of seeing things
   in black and white.

   In this small world, there is no absolute evil; it exists somewhere
   far beyond its boundaries.  If anything bad happens, it invariably
   stems from the larger outside world.  Throughout my relatively short
   life, I've changed my opinion several times on one matter: I used
   to think there were no bad people.  Later, I came to believe that
   there are indeed bad people.  At present, I believe that there are
   neither good nor bad people.

   I understand that this idea may sound strange, so let me clarify.  It
   would be a huge mistake to assume that the world can be divided into
   people who are categorically good or, conversely, categorically bad.
   Firstly, it is unclear which combination of factors makes a person
   categorically good or bad; secondly, people possess free will,
   meaning that any attempt to evaluate them and label them as "good"
   or "bad" stifles that freedom.

   At a specific moment in time, depending on the circumstances, we may
   indeed consider a person to be either bad or good.  However, it would
   be more accurate to compare a person to a river: they are constantly
   in motion, flowing, and cannot be labelled as "bad" or "good".  We
   say, "This person is bad!" Yet time passes, the person changes
   and becomes different.  I do not believe that a person cannot change.
    Of course, they can.  As a result, we have misled both ourselves
   and others: we labelled a person as bad, even though the individual
   is not inherently evil.  Yes, there may be evil within them
   at a particular moment, but there is also good.

   Once, I had the opportunity to read the diary of Leo Tolstoy, and one
   of his sayings became a true revelation for me: "One of the most
   common misconceptions is to consider people good, evil, stupid,
   or intelligent.  A person flows, and in them are all possibilities:
   was foolish, became wise; was wicked, became good, and vice versa.
   That is the greatness of human beings.  And from that, you cannot
   judge a person.  What?  You judged, and they are already different.
   You can't even say: I don't love.  You said it, but it's different
   now."

   Although this is an animated film about children, it raises some
   rather adult questions.  For example, after landing in the orphanage,
   Courgette finds himself among little people who have experienced
   great misfortunes: he is surrounded by a victim of a paedophile,
   the son of a drug addict, the son of a thief, and a girl whose
   mother, an illegal immigrant, was deported.  The mother
   of Courgette's girlfriend, whom he is in love with, was shot in front
   of her eyes by her father for infidelity, who then shot himself.

   Almost no one enters adulthood without some psychological traumas
   from childhood.  Paradoxically, these often become the catalyst
   for either self-development or self-destruction.  For instance,
   in 2014 my father passed away from stomach cancer: for a long time,
   this trauma brought me immense suffering.  However, eventually, due
   to constant reflection and thoughts about my life path prompted by my
   suffering, I was able to grow up and take care of myself and my
   mother.  I think if my father were alive, he would be proud of me.

   Interestingly, the film reminded me of my escape from Russia
   to Sakartvelo.  For some time after the move, I had neither money nor
   a job nor desire, so I lived in "shelters" - special places
   for persecuted political activists where they can stay for a while,
   for example, until they find a job and new housing.  People living
   in shelters are united by a common misfortune: life in exile
   and the impossibility of returning to their homeland.  In the people
   who lived in the shelter, I primarily saw people.  Living, feeling,
   suffering human beings.

   And these people are never unequivocally bad or good.  Each of them
   possesses their own unique life context, which is impossible
   to evaluate without living someone else's life and experiencing
   everything the other person has experienced.  This may seem obvious,
   but I catch myself thinking that I need to remind myself of this more
   often: each person contains both bad and good traits.  And that's
   perfectly okay.  C'est la vie.  At one moment there will be more bad
   traits, and at another - more good ones.  And this is why we should
   approach people with compassion rather than disdain.

   The theme of love is also easily traceable in the cartoon: stating
   the obvious, but it's easiest to be around people who have faced
   the same problems in the past as we have.  Nothing brings us closer
   than the ability to endure hard times together.  But, at the same
   time, it's equally important to experience happy moments together:
   this is exactly what the director of the cartoon is saying, hinting
   in no uncertain terms that the world isn't black and white, and it's
   impossible to live a full life considering people and the events
   connected with them as either black or white.

   Moreover, attempting such a categorical division into black and white
   deprives us of the opportunity to truly love people.  For if we
   divide people into bad and good, then, obviously, we will only love
   the good ones and not love the bad ones.  And in this case, our love
   will be full of falsehood: as I've already said, no one person
   embodies the quintessence of good or bad.  No one can be definitively
   labelled as "good" or "bad".  And if we consider someone
   unequivocally good and have the audacity to say that we love this
   person, there is no truth in that love.

   It's more appropriate to love both sides of a person: the good
   and the bad.  For in this case, love becomes most similar to the love
   we should feel for ourselves: such love is unconditional, imbued with
   understanding and acceptance of the imperfections of this world.
   Understanding and accepting that the people we love have not only
   a bright but also a dark side, we become closer to them, as we free
   ourselves from the burden of idealization, which is always
   a deception.  One of the manifestations of true love includes
   precisely the ability to accept a person without judgment for all
   their flaws, recognizing that we ourselves are not perfect.

   In this world, nothing is perfect.  And it is precisely this that
   makes the world beautiful.  Throughout my life, there have been
   people who at specific moments have irritated me or seemed bad,
   but now, looking back and analysing their motivations, I realise that
   they were mainly deeply unhappy individuals, scarred by fate.  Can I
   judge them for living in this imperfect world among equally imperfect
   people, including myself?

   In reality, our world is one large, enormous refuge.  In some sense,
   we are all orphans, and we all eagerly wait for someone who could
   share their love with us, who could take care of us and support us
   in difficult times, to appear in our lives.

   "If we hadn't ended up here, I wouldn't have met you," says the main
   character's girlfriend, whom he is in love with, at some point.
   And these words resonate in my heart in a special way because I can
   relate them to my own experience: for example, if it weren't for my
   anti-war stance and my protest, which led to the police pursuing me
   and subsequently forced me to flee the country - an peculiar form
   of misfortune - I would not have had the fortunate opportunity
   to meet Charlotte.

   And of course, this film reminds me how truly fortunate I am.  I have
   a mum who I love and can call my friend.  I love you, mum.  I try
   to take care of you and will continue to do so for as long as I live.
    Thank you for everything.

   In summary: "My Life as a Courgette" is a wonderful animated film
   that captivates the viewer with its simplicity, sincerity,
   and friendly atmosphere.  At the same time, it is imbued with pain
   contrasting with sporadic moments of genuine, heartfelt happiness.
   In general, it's a film about our lives.  A film about how to be
   authentic.  I definitely recommend watching it.





Links                          Laying Low                 28 August 2023


   An "Summer 2023" issue of the American magazine about Russian
   culture, "Russian Life," has been released, which details my
   political activism in Russia, how I evaded the authorities,
   and ultimately fled from Russia to Sakartvelo.

   By subscribing to the magazine or ordering a print
   version of the issue, you can read "Laying Low," an article about me
   and my political life in Russia, as well as support the publication.


               https://store.russianlife.com/summer-2023/





World                    Vacation in Sakartvelo           26 August 2023


   Over the past two weeks, I enjoyed my first vacation in Sakartvelo
   alongside my beloved Charlotte.  The vacation was filled with
   a variety of events, and I’ll do my best to share a selection
   of photos from our adventures soon.

   Throughout the vacation, I had been making a video of the most
   interesting events.  See for yourselves what has come of it.


                      https://youtu.be/Hj-j5_XyZK8





Life                     The City Day of Ozyory           19 August 2023


   Today, Ozyory, the town where I was born, is celebrating its 98th
   anniversary.  Although I currently live in Kutaisi, my heart and soul
   remain in Ozyory.

   On the 24th of September last year, I had to leave Ozyory due
   to being pursued by the police for my anti-war statements which were
   related to Russia's full-scale military invasion of Ukraine.





People                           Lottie                   17 August 2023


   Recently you told me that I can mention you in my blog.  Originally,
   I wanted to dedicate a lengthy post to you, but you're already well
   aware of my feelings for you from my letters.

   So now I'll simply state three things you're already aware of, but it
   gives me pleasure to repeat them: I love you, you are beautiful,
   and I'm fortunate to have you in my life.





Meditations                 What is Bravery               15 August 2023


   Today, someone very important to me told me that I am brave.  This
   made me reflect upon what I understand by "bravery", the role it
   plays in a person's life, and whether I truly am brave.

   I believe that truly brave people are those who have the audacity
   to challenge the everyday and confront routine, daily chores, and all
   the other "ordinary" matters that make up our daily lives with
   dignity.

   I also think that the concept of bravery is closely intertwined with
   responsibility, which I discussed in the note about adulthood.  To be
   brave means to have enough confidence in one's abilities and to have
   the capacity to take responsibility for one's life and the lives
   of one's loved ones.

   The ability to face any challenges life throws at you with dignity -
   that's what bravery is.

   So, can I call myself brave?  Quite possibly.  For a long time, I've
   been keenly aware of the limits of my responsibility and consistently
   brave decisions that are connected to my life and the lives of my
   loved ones.

   For instance, consider my political activities: I was aware that
   the police could target me for my statements and actions.  After this
   actually happened, and I had to leave the country, I also ensured
   the safety of my mother.

   Another less obvious example is relationships.  It takes
   a significant amount of bravery to accept a challenge from
   the universe and try to build healthy and happy relationships based
   on mutual respect, freedom, and love.

   I am capable of continuing to be brave for myself and for my dear
   ones.  I will strive to remain brave in the future because bravery is
   intrinsically linked with responsibility, and I morally cannot afford
   to shirk the responsibility for my loved ones.





Meditations                  Being an Adult               12 August 2023


   I have always been intrigued by the question of when a person
   transforms from "not adult" into "an adult".  Personally, I still
   find it difficult to count myself among those cohorts of people who
   call themselves "adults", even though I possess a sufficient number
   of attributes that all adults typically have.

   Nevertheless, I believe that each person individually determines
   the criteria by which they will assess the "adulthood" of other
   people and themselves.  Some consider themselves adults after
   receiving their first salary, others upon reaching the age
   of majority, and some think of themselves as adults after filing
   their first tax return.

   Personally, I began to consider myself an adult relatively recently,
   after moving to Sakartvelo.  Not at the moment of moving, but after
   some time had passed, when I successfully evacuated my mum from
   Russia.  When the police came to my home and began to terrorise my
   mum, I realised it was time to take responsibility not only for my
   life but for my mum's life as well.

   For this reason, within the framework of my worldview, I regard
   as adults those who have the courage to take responsibility not only
   for their own lives but also for the life of another person.
   In the absence of this "another person", a person may grow up
   by taking responsibility for humanity.





Life                            The Heat                  11 August 2023


   In the last few days, unbearable heat has settled across the whole
   territory of Sakartvelo.  Yesterday, for instance, it was around 43°C
   in the shade.  I dread to think what the temperature was under direct
   sunlight, but after a trip to the dental clinic in such weather,
   and then a walk to the city centre and back, I had only one desire:
   to turn on the air conditioner and have a good sleep.

   It's very interesting to observe how the environment I live
   in changes over time.  Just half a year ago, for example, I was
   chopping wood and stoking the stove so as not to freeze at -40°C,
   and now I'm hiding under the cold streams of the air conditioner's
   air, so as not to melt at +40°C.  To be honest, hiding under three
   blankets and stoking the stove was more appealing to me than hiding
   from the heat.

   But, of course, the real hell is happening near the sea.  Relatively
   recently, I had the chance to visit Kobuleti, where I stayed
   for a few days: the terrible heat combined with high humidity from
   the sea seemed to me such a bad combination that, clickin' heels, I
   fled on the night train to Tbilisi on the last night.





Life                         Kutaisi's Dogs               10 August 2023


   One of the major downsides of Kutaisi is the presence of a huge
   number of dogs on the city streets.  This inconvenience is most
   keenly felt at night when the entire city is literally overwhelmed
   by the barking of dogs.  I love dogs, but I still try to avoid strays
   after my friend and I were attacked by dogs.  Mind you, that was
   in Russia.

   However, for some reason, in recent days the number of dogs on
   the streets of Kutaisi has noticeably diminished: either due
   to the constant heat or the local authorities have addressed
   the issue and started to round them up.  I lean towards the former.
   And, truth be told, this evening upon returning from a walk, I found
   a dog hiding from the heat in my entrance hall right by the front
   door.

   By the way, there is no light in the entrance hall, so an unpleasant
   situation occurred: someone stepped on a dog's tail and it barked
   loudly.  Fortunately, the sound insulation in the building is very
   good, so this didn't bother me much.  Though I had time to think that
   it might have joined the evening barking of the other dogs: that
   would have been most inconvenient.

   My favourite breeds of dogs are the Belgian Malinois and the Cavalier
   Charles King Spaniel.  I learned about the latter breed quite
   recently, but having delved into the subject a bit, I'm now sure that
   this is exactly what dogs should be like.  If I were ever to get
   a dog, it would definitely be a Cavalier Charles King Spaniel.





Tech                       My PGP Public Key              08 August 2023


   A copy of my public PGP key can be obtained using WKD or on
   the keys.openpgp.org website.  The former method is more preferable.

   The fingerprint of my PGP public key: 193E 1834 8200 C45F C8A5 61EB
   0802 BDCD 5265 6EE9.  This is hard to spot with the naked eye,
   but the last two groups of hexadecimal numbers are an ISO-8859-1
   character set sequence: 52 65 6E E9, which can be decoded as "René."





Politics                   Russo-Georgian War             07 August 2023


   Almost 15 years ago - on 7th August 2008 - the Russo-Georgian War
   began.  During the war, 408 Georgian citizens died, including 170
   servicemen, 14 police officers, and 224 civilians.

   Active combat lasted only five days, but the consequences
   of the conflict are still felt in Georgia: Russia has effectively
   annexed South Ossetia and occupied 20% of Georgian territory.

   As a result of ethnic cleansing carried out by Russia, more than
   30,000 people were forced to leave their homes.  The overwhelming
   majority of their homes were burned by the invaders so that
   the owners would never return.

   There are still no diplomatic relations between Georgia and Russia.
   Tbilisi severed them shortly after Moscow's recognition
   of the independence of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, and also withdrew
   from the CIS.





Life                            Kutaisi                   07 August 2023


   In the few months of living in Tbilisi, I managed to conduct several
   lectures on information security, develop a Telegram bot with
   information about the local municipal transport system's bus
   movement, and meet many interesting and wonderful people.  However,
   the time has come to move on: firstly, some time ago, I moved my
   mother to Sakartvelo because the police were threatening to plant
   drugs on her.  Secondly, there's a chance that my younger brother
   will agree to move to Sakartvelo soon.  All this meant that it was
   time to look for new accommodation where I can house my family.

   Compared to Tbilisi, the town really feels more spacious: this effect
   is achieved mainly because not many people live in Kutaisi.  Just
   what I needed.  The air here is cleaner, and there's a pleasant warm
   breeze in the evenings.  Kutaisi is not covered in graffiti, and it's
   almost impossible to find litter strewn around the streets, which
   can't be said for Tbilisi.  In the morning and evening, I constantly
   see cleaners on the streets who conscientiously do their job: I was
   genuinely pleasantly surprised by how clean and tidy Kutaisi is.

   A bus fare costs only 0.6 GEL if you pay with a local transport card,
   which you can purchase at "Daily" supermarkets and TBC bank branches.
    The transport system is quite well-developed, so getting from one
   end of town to the other is usually not a problem if you know the
   layout of the bus stops and which routes intersect with each other.
   The bus fleet is completely updated, and the buses have air
   conditioning.  Taxis around the town cost next to nothing: for
   example, you can get from one end of town to the other for 4-5 GEL.
   Unlike in Tbilisi, drivers here are more attentive on the roads and
   yield to pedestrians when they are crossing at pedestrian crossings.

   The city has existed for over 3,000 years, so strolling through it,
   one can easily discover layers from completely different eras.  For
   example, the majestic Bagrati Cathedral is incongruously overlaid
   with modernity in the form of a lift, which was constructed during
   Saakashvili's reign (the cathedral was actually removed from UNESCO's
   list because of this).  In the city centre, there's the Colchis
   Fountain, illustrating myths about ancient Colchis.  An interesting
   observation: buses going to the centre from my street make two rounds
   around this fountain due to the positioning of the stops.  Admiring
   the fountain from the bus window is priceless.

   I settled near the railway station because I love to travel.  For
   instance, right after moving to Kutaisi, I found that trains run from
   this station to Batumi.  I haven't checked yet how much a trip to
   Batumi costs, but I have been to the sea in Kobuleti: the train fare
   there was only 2 GEL.  The only downside for those who don't like to
   wake up early: the train leaves early in the morning at 5:40.  It
   returns to Kutaisi around 23:00.  The journey to Kobuleti takes about
   three hours, which is ample time for a good rest.

   One of the places in Kutaisi that I've come to love is the
   embankment, where there are almost no people in the evening (because
   they gather on the bridge to admire the views from there).  From the
   embankment, you can admire the flow of the Rioni River, one of the
   largest in the South Caucasus.  I often come to the embankment in the
   evenings with a book, to read to the sound of the rapidly flowing
   river.

   One of the most significant visible drawbacks of this city for me has
   been the street lighting: due to some strange misunderstanding, the
   city administration has preferred white lamps to yellow ones, making
   it almost impossible to walk around the city at night without your
   eyes hurting.  You actually get used to this quickly, but at first,
   it looks unusual.  In Tbilisi, for example, there's none of this
   nonsense: at night, the whole city is lit with yellow, not white.





Reviews                   Howl's Moving Castle            06 August 2023


   Studio Ghibli's animations have always captivated me with their
   harmony.  These miniature worlds lack evil as such; there are
   no unequivocally bad or good characters.  It is precisely thanks
   to the blurring of this dichotomy that these animated films are
   perceived by the viewers as so lifelike.

   From the graphic component of the animations, I want to highlight two
   aspects that I particularly like: the first is that the drawing
   of the characters themselves is almost careless, without fussiness
   and excessive attention to detail, such as, for example, with
   the Russian artist Shilov.

   The second aspect is that, conversely, all the backgrounds are worked
   out in maximum detail.  It seems that no other animation studio has
   managed to capture the structure of the moment so well and immerse
   the viewer in a majestic and yet quite grounded atmosphere.  This
   harmony has always inspired me greatly.

   And, of course, the entire animation is permeated with the music
   of composer Joe Hisaishi.  It's amazing how much it resembles some
   of the compositions by Yuji Nomi, another composer who also
   participated in the creation of other Studio Ghibli films.

   "Howl's Moving Castle" is an excellent anti-war film, exposing war
   in its cruelty, closely intertwined with senselessness.  Though
   the film does not have clearly defined antagonists and protagonists,
   if we examine the confrontation between Suliman, the court witch,
   and her apprentice Howl, one can easily notice a reference
   to the clash between the state's repressive apparatus and a citizen
   defending his right to pacifism; a citizen who despises war
   and chooses personal life over the dictate of the collective (that
   is, military duty), despite the risk of losing magical power (state
   privilege).

   Alongside the anti-war theme, the theme of living, genuine,
   and all-encompassing love is developed, as a rightful alternative
   to war.  Here we can find the close intertwining of the fates
   of Howl, a self-doubting romantic, and Sophie, a self-confident young
   woman capable of selflessly giving love.  Unlike war, love does
   not take, it gives: war alienates and oppresses society, while thanks
   to Sophie's love, "Howl's Moving Castle" gains new life, experiences
   a renaissance, and is filled with new inhabitants with the most
   unusual destinies.





Politics                  Podivilov v. Russia             06 August 2023


   The European Court of Human Rights has communicated my complaint.

   This means that the complaint has met the eligibility criteria
   and that the court has agreed to examine the case on its merits.
   The ECHR has sent Russia a notification of my complaint.
   The complaint was communicated in a simplified manner and will be
   examined shortly according to established practice.

   On February 24th, the day Russia invaded Ukraine in an escalation
   of the Russo-Ukrainian War that began in 2014, I organised a solo
   picket in front of the Presidential Administration building in Moscow
   with a poster saying "Putin, stop the war with Ukraine."

   On March 31st, for this action, the Tverskoi district court in Moscow
   fined me 15,000 RUB, after which, on July 1st, the Moscow city court
   confirmed the fine.

   The organisation of solo pickets is not prohibited by law and does
   not require additional agreement with the authorities.





Life                     Connection Established            04 March 2023


   Well, my friends, I've covered the village with radio communication.
   There's hardly any mobile network here, so it used to be quite
   difficult for the villagers to communicate with each other before
   the arrival of the radio: sometimes one had to walk from house
   to house.  That, generally speaking, isn't a flaw, but sometimes it
   could create quite the difficulty.

   The first two radio stations appeared here at the beginning
   of the year, and I gradually connected more and more villagers
   to the radio network.  Today, the village radio network has seven
   radio stations.  I connected the seventh one today, even though
   the heavy snowfall tried to disrupt my plans.  I ran over
   to the neighbour's in the evening and handed the radio station
   to the new (and happy) radio enthusiast.

   (Indeed, I must admit that this village is very small, so only two
   houses are participating in the radio network.  For reference:
   there's only one person officially registered in the village.
   As of today, after connecting the new transceiver, all the residents
   of these two houses are using the radio communication.)





Life                         Wooden Horses              28 February 2023


   I'm continuing to work in the carpentry workshop on my first wooden
   horses.  Apart from the little horses, the only thing to occupy
   oneself with here is perhaps chopping firewood.  I've really taken
   to making the horses: I can finally hold the results of my labour
   in my hands.  This thought warms me and inspires me greatly.





Art                              "War"                  23 February 2023


   Yesterday, the independent art-analytical magazine
   "Discourse" published my anti-war piece "War." This is my first work
   not for the ZX Spectrum that I have shared with the world under
   the name René Coignard.


        https://discours.io/expo/image/drawing/make-art-not-war





Life                     My First Wooden Horse          17 February 2023


   The local woodcarver (and just a good person) agreed to take me on
   as an apprentice.  Even though I had never held a jigsaw in my life
   until that moment, the result turned out neater than I had expected.
   Nikolai was still lamenting that he was "no good" as a teacher, but I
   firmly disagree with that statement.

   Before starting work, I thoroughly questioned the master about safety
   techniques, and only then did I take up the tool.  Very thoughtfully,
   I brought along safety glasses: I don't understand how one can do
   this kind of work without them.  The air gets filled with fine wood
   particles every time after using the jigsaw, so it would be a good
   idea to get a respirator as well.





Life                       Grandmother's Bog            17 February 2023


   For the second time this winter, I find myself at the bog, but I only
   thought to bring my camera this time.  I've decided to share with you
   some snapshots of this wonderful place, where nature only allows
   a stroll in the winter.  The path was made by a snowmobile: possibly
   even belonging to the local forestry department - I keep seeing green
   ribbons on the trees along the cleared path.

   It's interesting that if you continue to walk down this path
   and don't turn off it, you can reach the nearest village, which is
   a few kilometres from here.  I've done this once before: it was a big
   loop, about ten to twelve kilometres.  It's a great place to sing
   at the top of your voice: I'm not shy about acquainting the forest
   inhabitants with Rubinstein's "Mountain Peaks" each time.





Misc                        Valentine's Note            14 February 2023


   I have absolutely no understanding of Valentine's Day (also known
   as "the day of all lovers"), except that I know about the amusing
   tradition of giving "valentines" to loved ones on this day.  Alas,
   but due to a strange twist of fate, I am still unattached
   romantically.

   To some extent, this is undoubtedly sad, but I am quite sure that it
   is unreasonable to worry about it, as I have no way to influence it.
   At least as long as I'm restricted in travelling within the country
   and the world.  On the other hand, this is a very interesting
   experience, which I find somewhat beneficial.

   There was a paragraph here, logically following the previous one:
   in it, I decided to have a little whine about never having been given
   a "valentine" in my life.  I'll explain why I rewrote this paragraph:
   the fact is that while I was whining, one subscriber to this channel
   sent me a valentine.  Dear subscriber, thank you: it was truly very
   unexpected and pleasant, I appreciate it a lot.

   So, on the day of all lovers, as I have already said, loved ones are
   given valentines.  You know, I once pondered the question of why
   people need the institution of marriage at all.  What if I love all
   my friends and would not mind marrying each one or having each one
   marry me?  So, my dear ones, I love you all.  Let this note be
   today's improvised "valentine" for you.  Thank you all for being
   in my life.





Politics            Elections and Their Consequences    14 February 2023


   In the previous two years, I actively participated in the electoral
   process as an independent observer.  I have always been fond of this
   form of civic activism, since, unlike picketing and other nonsense, I
   felt real benefit from it.  In total, I observed five times:
   in Ozyory, Yekaterinburg, Rybinsk, Pereslavl-Zalessky, and Lyubertsy.

   The local electoral commission, where the voting process took place,
   was located in the village of Tokaryovo, which belongs
   to the Lyubertsy urban district.  This time, I broke my own record:
   they started to hate me not immediately upon entering the building
   but after ten to fifteen minutes.  I discovered signs of tampering on
   the envelopes containing the early voting ballots, after which
   the election commission's room transformed from an ordinary classroom
   into a lively snake pit.

   The situation was further exacerbated by the fact that I wrote
   a complaint for every "sneeze" of the election commission, so after
   a while, they didn't even consider me a human being anymore.  I
   remember when a United Russia candidate appeared, who, instead
   of assisting in eliminating violations, politely and courteously
   cursed me several times, photographed my observer's direction
   (the chairwoman showed it to her, now I have an issue with her
   because of this) and then left the room.

   The candidate promised to complain about me to the police, which she
   did after her disappearance from the election commission's premises.
   After some time, a criminal investigation officer visited my polling
   station, detained me, and began an interrogation.  I wasn't
   in the mood for this fellow at all: I was trying to send a complaint
   to the territorial election commission.  After all, signs
   of tampering were found on the envelopes, something had to be done.

   Apparently, he was conducting the interrogation for a reason: he was
   writing everything down on paper for me to sign later.  I had
   no intention of doing this, of course-I thought: therefore, I decided
   to try to escape from the police uncle since, in my absence,
   the election commission could do whatever it pleased.  First, I
   checked how the officer would react to my antics: I asked if he would
   mind if I took a selfie with him.  He was, of course, against it:
   threatened that such antics could lead to a case being filed against
   me.  What case, I never really understood.

   Intimidations of this sort have absolutely no effect on me, so I took
   a selfie with him and immediately published it on my Telegram
   channel.  The officer was outraged by such audacity, but nothing
   happened: no consequences, at least none that I felt.  And what could
   they charge me with for photographing a person who is performing his
   duties?  Unclear.  After that, I realized that the police uncle posed
   no threat to me, and I decided to make myself scarce.

   The operative had already finished writing my explanations for me
   by that point (he was, by the way, quite surprised to learn that I
   worked at "Yandex" at the time) and offered me the paper to sign.  I
   kindly refused his offer, thereby disappointing him once again.  I
   remember how he was then irritated, saying something like, "Why did I
   write all this then?" I honestly replied that I didn't know and took
   the opportunity to ask whether I was still detained.  The operative
   answered that I was not detained.  As a law-abiding and totally
   not detained citizen, I took the liberty to leave the company
   of the policeman and return to the polling station.  Curtain.

   I had received the observer's appointment from the Communist Party,
   and in the morning, my associate delivered a special video camera
   to the polling station that broadcasted everything that happened
   there on the internet.  I had to seriously struggle with
   the obstinate head of the electoral commission, who insisted that
   filming was illegal.  Of course, it was legal.  After filing
   a complaint, the chairwoman and other commission members stopped
   protesting and accepted that the video camera would be there all
   morning, day, and even evening.  Thanks to this camera, by the way, I
   managed to have dinner with a calm soul and a clear conscience: I
   just connected to the live stream, put my smartphone next
   to the plate, and while eating, carefully watched what was happening
   at the polling station.

   The most unpleasant part of the observation during this election
   happened in the evening when the polling station had already closed,
   and the vote-counting process began.  At this time, obstructing
   the execution of photo and video shooting at the polling station is
   unacceptable: if during the day video shooting can theoretically be
   forbidden under the pretext of "violating the secrecy of the vote,"
   after the closing of the polling station and the counting of votes,
   there can be no reason for the ban, especially since the law clearly
   states that shooting by observers during counting is allowed.
   But the law is one thing, and people are another: not everyone may
   like being filmed, especially in the context of such a delicate
   process.

   One of the fake observers, as soon as the vote counting began,
   approached the camera and blocked the view with his back.  I asked
   him several times to step aside to avoid hindering video recording,
   but he did not heed my requests.  So I decided to record him with my
   smartphone's video camera, asking him to explain his refusal to move
   away from the camera: he clearly didn't like this at all, grabbed my
   phone and twisted my arms.  Things could have ended in a brawl,
   but the "observer" was timely distracted by the chairwoman, and I
   managed to break free.

   I hastily left the polling station premises, as the emerging threat
   to my health required my immediate response.  In the building was
   the very same criminal investigation officer to whom I now had
   to report the crime.  The "observer" realized his wrongdoing and,
   during the process of me writing a statement to the police, begged me
   to return to the polling station and not complain about him.  Then I
   made it clear to him that one must be responsible for their actions
   and that I would not withdraw the complaint.  After that, the fellow
   could not hold back and left the building.  Perhaps his nerves gave
   in.  Who knows.

   After filing the complaint, I returned to the polling station
   and continued to observe the vote count.  Eventually, I was handed
   a copy of the final protocol with the correct figures but improperly
   authenticated.  I could have filed a complaint then, but after
   the incident that had occurred, I had absolutely no energy
   for anything more than simply leaving the building of the polling
   station.  As at some other elections, the chairwoman, accompanied
   by her entourage, said goodbye to me in a sarcastic manner,
   expressing hope that we would never meet again.  "We'll meet
   in court," I thought to myself, but I didn't have the strength
   to argue with her anymore.  I collected all the equipment
   and documentation, and then left the school building where
   the electoral commission was located.

   I asked one of my observer friends, who were observing nearby,
   to give me a lift to the local party branch.  I didn't have to wait
   long, about ten to fifteen minutes; I spent all that time in perfect
   solitude with my thoughts under the dim light of a lantern, located
   on a neighbouring street a few dozen metres from the school building.
    At the party branch, I handed over a copy of the final protocol,
   and then, out of sporting interest, I went to the territorial
   electoral commission and observed for some time how representatives
   from the electoral commissions were coming in from all over the city
   with the final figures on paper.

   Around two in the morning, I returned to the hotel and finally
   allowed my body to embrace the arms of Morpheus after twenty-one
   hours of active wakefulness.  Around ten or eleven o'clock
   in the morning, I hobbled to the nearest railway station and returned
   by suburban trains with one transfer to Ozyory.  I decided to adhere
   to my good tradition of suing the electoral commission after
   the elections, so the next stage was the preparation and submission
   of an administrative lawsuit to the Lyubertsy City Court.

   Due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to personally
   participate in the court proceedings, so it took place without me.
   Although the court refused to satisfy my demands stated
   in the lawsuit, I will still fight on: I'll look for a lawyer and go
   for an appeal.





Life                        13th of February            13 February 2023


   In the forest today, M.  René Coignard was assessing the quality of
   radio communication with the village, as he wants to teach the local
   inhabitants how to transmit and receive images using slow-scan
   television in the foreseeable future.  It's a method of transmitting
   images via radio communication, where all the graphics are encoded by
   sound.

   It's a shame that broadcasting has to be on the UHF range (LPD433
   frequency grid), rather than on "two metres." On "two metres," only
   ham radio operators with a callsign can operate, and I don't have
   one.  The rule is simple: the higher the frequency, the worse
   the radio wave bends around obstacles.  Determining the maximum size
   of the obstacle is easy: divide the wavelength in half.  For "two
   metres," it will be one metre; for UHF, thirty-five centimetres.

   I receive the village in the forest confidently at a distance of up
   to one kilometre and a bit, but transmission is more complicated:
   to be heard without interference, the radio station must be held
   above oneself precisely as depicted in the photograph.  Nevertheless,
   I am definitely pleased by the fact that for confident reception
   and transmission of images using slow-scan television in the forest,
   all that is needed is to hold the radio station a little higher above
   oneself, and that's it.





Life                        The End of Water            13 February 2023


   There is not only no gas in the village: there is also no centralised
   water supply here.  In simple terms, water here is obtained
   the old-fashioned way: from a well.  Well, not in buckets, of course
   - there is a pump at work - but still.  And tonight there was a minor
   apocalypse: the water in the well ran out, air got into the system,
   and everything stopped.  You can't wash the dishes or cook porridge.
   Very sad, but c'est la vie.

   After a walk in the forest, the host, his friend, and I tackled
   the problem directly.  We also replaced a part at the pump that once
   flooded the basement and nearly caused a short circuit.  It's great
   that I covered this place with radio communication: there is
   no mobile network here, so this is the only way to communicate.  It
   was very convenient to coordinate actions.  At the same time, all
   the local residents found out that the problem was solved and water
   is available again.

   I see two reasons for the disappearance of the water: either someone
   forgot to turn off the tap, or there were problems with the water
   entering the well due to sharp temperature fluctuations (here it can
   be -38°C, then +2°C).  In any case, the local end of the world...  I
   mean, the end of water, has been averted.  And that's wonderful.
   Actually, the water here disappears not for the first time, so I have
   already managed to get used to it.  There is also not always
   electricity here.  Good things come, as they say, little by little.




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