Today, in 2026, when someone hears my accent and asks where I’m from, I hesitate. I lower my eyes, give a small smile, and say, “I was born and raised in St. Petersburg, Russia.” I hear the words and feel a pinch of embarrassment. I don’t always want to explain the Russia I knew—my Russia—because it feels so different from the Russia people picture today.
But things were very different in 1993. That was the year I moved, by a rather unlikely twist of fate, from St. Petersburg to a small college town with a surprising name: Moscow… Moscow, Idaho.
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