From Chechnya With Love

No doubt about it, Russia is one of the most racist countries on the planet Earth. Seriously, if you're of African descent, don't go there. My name is Abdullah Camara and I'm a young black Muslim man of Senegalese descent with a great story to share with you. The Russian people are notoriously xenophobic and the sheer hatred they display toward African, Central Asian, Chechen and Filipino immigrants in Russia proper is simply astounding. By the grace of Allah, I managed not only to survive but thrive in this hostile place.

I encountered a lot of racism in Russia but I refused to bow down to these racist bozos. I am a strong black man from the Motherland of Africa, birthplace of all humanity. Without Africa, humanity itself would not exist. Something all human beings need to accept one of these days. Islam, the beautiful religion I was born into, teaches that all men are descended from Adam and Eve, the first humans, created by Allah the one true God.

What do I mean by that? So sad that much of humanity has yet to read the Holy Koran. Alright, I'll explain. The black man, the Arab, the Chinese, the Aboriginal, and every other type of man you can think of, all are God's creations. No man is better than another saved for piety or good conduct, that is what Islam teaches. Since many among the Russians believed themselves superior to me because their skin is pale while mine is dark, I had to fight some of them and teach them a lesson. I endured much hardship in Russia, but in the end, Allah granted me victory, happiness, success and so much more.

When I was 19, my parents Omar and Fatoumatta Camara sent me to study abroad. I was growing bored of Pout, western Senegal, where I was born and raised. I studied for three years at the University of Toronto, where I earned a bachelor's degree in engineering. I became a permanent resident of Canada and looked for work for the next two years without finding any. At the age of 23, I was a new citizen of Canada, and I was working as a hotel clerk because I couldn't find work in my field anywhere in the City of Toronto, Ontario.

The way I figured it, since the Confederation of Canada was hostile to highly educated and ambitious young Black Muslim men like myself, the whole country could kiss my ass. I've got my Canadian citizenship and if Canada won't hire me, I'll take my talents elsewhere. I returned to Senegal and spent three months at my parents house, reconnecting with my people and my roots. I returned to Toronto with a new lease on life. Then of course I got the bright idea of checking out a student exchange program between Canada and Russia.

The State University of Moscow, also known as Lomonosov Moscow State University apparently has a student exchange program with the University of Toronto, my alma mater. Professor James Willis, an old friend of mine, recommended me for it. He spent a year teaching English literature at Moscow State University and apparently fell in love with the Russian capital. I decided to give it a shot, since Professor Willis is a trusted friend and I took him at his word. What the kindly old man forgot to tell me was that Russians are the most xenophobic people on the planet Earth.

Seriously, I thought Canada was racist but the casual, passive aggressive racism I encountered as a young black man living in the City of Toronto, Ontario, was nothing compared to what awaited me in the City of Moscow, fabled capital of Russia proper. A lot of people have this idealistic view of Europe as a civilized place. What a load of crock. Europeans are among the most bigoted people on this planet. Look, having technology and culture doesn't excuse me from being a savage if you treat your fellow man poorly based on differences in skin color, culture and religion.

Of course, I didn't know these things when I arrived in Moscow, Russia, straight from Ontario, Canada. Armed with my Canadian university education, I thought I could make my mark at the top university in all of Russia. Moscow State University has a great reputation around the world. I for one couldn't wait to see it, and the capital city that surrounds it.

People didn't tell me that Russia lacks racial diversity and that extremists in this frosty wasteland of a country hold a special hatred in their hearts for people who are darker-skinned. People like myself. A big and tall young black man from the predominantly Muslim nation of Senegal. A man from the heart of Africa studying at a storied and age-old classical Russian university. What in hell could go wrong?

My first day in the City of Moscow, I walked around, like tourists like to do. Clad in a black leather jacket, red silk shirt, black tie, black silk pants and black Timberland boots, I looked pretty dapper. I'm a big black guy who likes to dress classy. Too many brothers out there don't give a damn about style and that's a damn shame. People stared at me a lot but I was used to it. As a black guy in Canada, I got stared at wherever I went. The only difference is that while there are lots of black folks living in America and Canada, there are hardly any living in Russia. And Russia severely lags behind North America and places like the United Kingdom and France in terms of racial diversity and acceptance. I was about to get a taste of Russian xenophobia firsthand.

When Monday came, I went to the registrar's office at the prestigious Moscow State University, to handle stuff like student identification cards, parking spaces, and living accommodations of course. Everywhere I went people stared at me. Did it bother me? Absolutely. I held my head high, though. I'm a six-foot-four, dark-skinned black male. I don't get intimidated easily. Every Russian man who looked at me hostilely received a hostile stare in return. Let the Russian bear beware, the African lion is on the prowl.

I went to the registrar's office, and the petite blonde lady behind the counter gawked at me. In flawless Russian that I learned from audio tapes and videos, I explained my situation to her. When Olga, as the gal's name tag indicated, asked for ID, I showed her my Ontario driver's licence and my Canadian passport. The lady looked at both, and muttered something to her colleague. They looked at me, and typed something into the office computer. I waited. Finally, ten minutes later, they told me that I'd be staying at dorm B, somewhere in the east end of campus.

I nodded and thanked Olga and her colleague, then headed toward Dorm B. The damn bitch didn't tell me how big campus was. Dammit I could have taken a cab there! When I arrived at Dorm B, again I got stared at, especially by two uniformed guys from the campus security team. I was asked for ID, and a female security guard reluctantly showed me to Dorm B. I thanked the lady, then checked out my room. The place was furnished and decent sized, and I thanked Allah for that. I spent the next two hours getting my stuff from the Hilton Hotel in downtown Moscow to the Moscow State University campus.

The cab driver who drove me from the hotel to the campus was an old Chechen guy named Zelimkhan. The old guy stunned me when he told me he was Muslim. I thought all Russians were Orthodox Christians. Zelimkhan shook his head, laughed, and told me that Islam had been a part of Russia for untold generations. He was kind enough to help me drag my stuff from the cab to the dorm room, and I paid him handsomely for that. Zelimkhan smiled, thanked me and then warned me about the Russians. Most wicked people on earth, the old Chechen said gravely.

Allah will protect me from evil, I said firmly, and Zelimkhan gently touched my shoulder, nodded and then drove away. I waved at him as he sped away. Good to know there are Muslims in town, I thought. Even though I am the only black man in Moscow as far as I can tell, I'm not the only Muslim. I said my evening prayers, then went to sleep. I dreamed of Toronto, and thought of my friends both in Senegal and Canada. Senegal I missed because of my beloved parents. Toronto haunted my thoughts because I missed its racial diversity and multiculturalism, which I had sadly taken for granted. In Moscow, where there are zero black faces, I felt truly alone.

The next day, I went to Moscow, and walked around town. Just like the day before, people stared. Some guys driving by in a car hollered a word at me. Obez Yana. I later found out it was a racial slur which meant monkey. The next time a Russian guy called me this, I was walking in a park, feeding the ducks, and this chubby middle-aged white dude walked up to me and started talking shit. Seriously, what's wrong with these fuckers?

Here I was, minding my own business when this Russian dude came at me. The bozo called me by that Russian racist slur and I decked him. Laid him flat out. Then I hightailed it out of there. Doesn't matter where I am. As a black man who got into an altercation with a racist white male, I'd be a target for law enforcement. If the Russian police are anything like the creeps I'd seen in James Bond movies, I'd be toast. I quickly returned to the university. Lucky for me, nobody saw the exchange between me and the racist old bozo. I'd gotten away scot-free. Yay me!

With two weeks left before the start of classes, I had nothing to do. I didn't make friends with the other guys in the dorm. Most of them stared at me whenever they saw me. I saw a dude who looked Chinese in the cafeteria and he stared at me just like the others did. Dude was Siberian, as I later found out. I finally found a sanctuary on campus. The Moscow State University Library. Not a lot of students go there, and those who do seem to mind their own business and ignore me. Good enough for me.

I would come to the library, grab a coffee at a nearby café, and bury my face in an engineering book. The good thing about engineering is that it makes sense no matter the language. It's the beauty of mathematics, folks. While studying at the library, I noticed someone looking at me. Nothing out of the ordinary there, I guess. The person in question was a six-foot-tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, bodacious Russian Amazon. Lovely lady, I thought, looking up from my engineering book as the towering beauty walked by.

As I later found out, this lovely gal worked at the library. When I came to the counter to check out a book on Engineering and International Development, the lady looked me up and down and smiled. As Salam Alaikum brother, the young blonde woman said, in flawless English, and I gasped in surprise. You've got to understand that I haven't heard the English language spoken in ages. Not since I came to Moscow. I looked at the lady and asked her how come she spoke English. The tall blonde beauty told me that she learned while in London. I am Albika Sadulayev, the gal said, holding out her big yet lovely hand for me to shake.

Walaikum As Salam I am Abdullah, I said with a smile as I shook Albika's hand. Thus I met the lady destined to be one of the most important people in my life. I checked out the book, then invited Albika Sadulayev to join me for coffee. The tall blonde gal happily acquiesced. I would later learn that Albika was originally from Gudermes, a town located in the Chechen Republic. This gal was a Muslim, like me. Merciful Allah put her in my path. We became friends, and Albika became my guide in the wild realm that Moscow can be for a black Muslim newcomer like myself.

With Albika by my side, I began to see Moscow in a new light. Oh, the town was still full of bigots, but I began to appreciate the good things about it thanks to her. Albika was friends with quite a few Muslims in town, and they're a diverse bunch. Chechens. Central Asians. Chinese Muslim immigrants. Turks. Pakistanis. Hot damn, there's a lot of immigrants in Russia. I thought this place was whiter than snow, but it had a growing diversity. Moscow is a beautiful city. Albika took me to a Chechen restaurant and I fell in love both with Chechen culture and ethnic Russian cuisine. I also made friends with a few regular Russians, young men and women on campus, who were friendly and welcoming, instead of hostile like so many Russians were to me.

Learn to keep an open mind even with your guard up, Albika said to me, after I told her that I was amazed to find a few people on this Russian university campus who were friendly toward visibly different foreigners like myself. I apologized, and thanked the lady for what she said. I've been focusing so much on the negative side of my encounters with Russians that I had began painting the whole country in a negative light.

As a Muslim, I am supposed to be above such pettiness. Islam is the faith that binds the pale-skinned and the dark-skinned as equals before the might of Allah, the one true God. All of mankind is equally worthy before the Creator. And only God can judge, something which I had temporarily forgotten, until my Muslim sister Albika reminded me. There are lots of good people in Russia, even though racism is rampant in this country. I say this as a black Muslim man, by the way. I found myself growing fascinated by Albika. This tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed Chechen Muslim giantess haunted my dreams. I didn't know women like her existed among the Ummah.

Don't apologize, Albika said to me, as we sat inside Borz, a classical Russian restaurant located not far from the Moscow State University campus. I smiled at this tall, lovely Chechen gal who had been my sole friend since I came to Russia. Albika looked really good in a long-sleeved dark blue T-shirt, black leather pants and black boots. Her long blonde hair was braided into neat tresses. This chick looked like a female version of Thor, from the Avengers movies.

I had seen beautiful women of all hues and faiths in Toronto, Ontario, one of the most racially and culturally diverse towns in the world. However, Albika Sadulayev was in a class by herself. My Teutonic Chechen goddess. If there's such a thing. Impulsively, I took Albika's hand and brought it to my lips. That's how we apologize in Senegal, I said slyly. Albika looked at me, a look of utter surprise on her lovely face. Charming, Albika said, grinning. And then the lovely Chechen blonde took my face into her hands and kissed me. I remember thinking that Albika's lips were soft, and her kissing style was very aggressive. Two things I really like in a woman, by the way.

After we shared our first kiss, Albika and I sat there, grinning like a pair of school chums. The fact that everyone inside the restaurant was looking at us didn't mean shit to either of us. Walk with me milady, I said gravely, as I rose to my feet and held out my hand chivalrously. Albika smiled and took my hand. I pulled her to her feet, and we walked out of Borz's restaurant, hand in hand. People stared but neither of us cared. Albika kissed me on the cheek and leaned against me as we went for a stroll around Moscow.

In hindsight, I should have known. I mean, even in that moment, I thought Albika Sadulayev, a tall and voluptuous Chechen Muslim woman built like a Norse goddess, and myself, a big and tall African Muslim man from Senegal educated in Ontario, Canada, would make quite a cute couple. I didn't know that this was the woman Allah the Beneficent and Merciful put in my path because she was destined to become my lawfully wedded wife and the mother of my sons and daughters in the home we would someday share in Moscow. Everything happens for a reason, I guess. May Allah smile upon you always, dear reader. Peace be upon you.