So it happened in my life that I studied and lived a few years in Geneva. She communicated not often with local and not very people, because she studied with her own Russian guys, and spent time with them, or with her young man (also from Russia). And although communication with foreigners was rare, but memorable. She is a Swiss Nigerian (her parents were children of migrants, and she was already considered directly local), he is a Swiss Korean (approximately the same story with the migration of ancestors). So, she, it turns out, loved Russia very much, because her parents studied in the Union and often remembered the USSR as a country "fort et tendre" (strong and tender). He even went to Russia a couple of times. Of course, I asked what she liked or disliked most, which was unexpected for her. Her eyes burned and she said:

“I had a Russian girl who helped me on my trip and was even my guide. She travelled with me everywhere, although she was from Peter, but went with me to Kazan, Sochi, Moscow. And in Kazan, something happened that I could not imagine. We had lunch at an outdoor cafe. At the next table, an elderly woman sat and looked at me very closely. At that time I already knew that in Russia there is no such racism as in some Western countries towards Africans. So I asked the woman why she looked at me that way. I asked in English, “Where are you from?” I said it was from Switzerland. The woman shrugged her head, “No, you’re from Africa. Where exactly?” My parents are from Nigeria. The woman smiled, “Oh, now I understand. “You look like a house.” It turned out that this woman is a specialist on African ethnic groups, that her husband is from Ethiopia. We talked for about an hour, and she told me how she identified my ethnic group (house) and even told a couple of stories from her experience of communicating with Nigerians. It was so unusual for me. I could never even imagine learning more about my roots from a Russian woman than from my parents, who tried their best to fit into European life!