"I really live like a dog": former world champion Alena Zavarzina about living in London

Russian snowboarder Alena Zavarzina was born in Novosibirsk. World champion in 2011, bronze medalist of the Sochi Olympics in 2014, winner of the World Cup stages, Honored Master of Sports of Russia.

Moreover, she is the ex-wife of the two-time Olympic champion of Sochi, who received Russian citizenship in 2012, Vic Wilde, who left the USA for Alyona.

Then the athletes divorced, and now the ex-world champion is whiling away her life in London, where she received a call from a brilliant interviewer. Sports.ru Vladimir Ivanov. And now, in fact, the conversation itself with small abbreviations.

— Alyona, how are you?

— Yes, in different ways. I can't say it's mega-awesome, but we're working on it. It's hard to break through in a new profession. Now there are problems in the creative industry, plus a crisis of life and a crisis of the cost of living — everything is very expensive in England. It turned out that finding a normal job is difficult. I thought that those who graduated from a cool university would be dismantled like hot cakes.

— Do you want a normal salary right away?

— I want to see the future. Well, for free, of course, I won't work anymore — I've been through it, that's enough.

— Can the problem with finding a job be related to your passport?

— Absolutely! Damn, this is probably going to sound terrible, but I was already thinking: maybe I should look for a job under a pseudonym? Purely conduct an experiment.

— Is everything so sad?

— Everyone says that they don't pay attention to either the name or the color of the passport. But when you come to recruiters, they read your last name and the first thing they ask is: do you have a work permit? People not with a Russian surname are not asked such questions. And you immediately understand: there is a division that does not add points to you.

— Did you come up with a pseudonym?

— Haha, I not only have a surname, but also a name speaks for itself. So I would like to tell you now what a successful and successful designer I am, but, unfortunately, this is not the case at all.

— What's your plan anyway?

— First you need to figure out a new visa. Now in the process. It would be nice to find a job. To be honest, I have depression because of this. Plus, it so happened that because of the sanctions, my savings are blocked (Alyona herself is not under sanctions). And I live literally from paycheck to paycheck. I didn't plan to be in such a situation at all. Let's be honest: I just have a huge anxiety, it's hard for me to go through it, sometimes I feel like I'm alone. Five years ago, when I left In Russia, I was a child, and now I'm not a child. You grow up quickly when you realize that if you don't find a job, you won't raise money for rent, you'll end up on the street.

— If you are offered a cool option with a job in Russia?

—No," I said. Because I already live here. And I like — I like going to theaters and movies. It's as if you are constantly in the center of events, in the center of world culture. There is stability. The feeling that if you try hard, your rights will be protected. I don't want to move — not exactly to Russia, but nowhere at all. I'm tired of looking for a place to hide. I want to stop already. And, despite all the difficulties, throwing everything and breaking down somewhere is not an option.

— More than once I have met English pensioners who got high in warm countries. They were convinced that all normal compatriots of their age are trying to leave because the UK has terrible food and bad weather.

— But I'm not a pensioner yet. Not only do I have good food and weather for my purposes, I'm trying to move somewhere else, I'd like to have fun, interesting work and things to do. It's not the time to die to sad music in a warm place with good food, so while I'm in London.

— About food — do you agree?

— Listen, the food here is like dirt. I don't remember the last time I ate fish and chips, although I like it. I've been hooked on chicken broth lately. I cook it myself. Damn, now they'll write again: Zavarzina, after completing her career, eats only chicken broth in London... I love pasta, sometimes I cook borscht for myself. I order most often the fo. But so it is in Moscow was. But what is missing here is good Uighur and Georgian cuisine.

— Do you live alone?

— With a boyfriend. And a cat. We started it two weeks ago. I was sure it was a cat, but a friend came a couple of days ago and opened our eyes. I still can't accept that it's not a cat.

— Is it expensive to shoot?

— Just kapets! I don't know how much more I can do. Prices have risen sharply. Since the move, everything has risen in price by an order of magnitude. Eggs — twice. The ones I like were 2.65 pounds, and now 4. This is about 500 rubles. Food delivery — minimum 2500. Go to the rest and have a couple of drinks — thousands of 5 per person.

— And the rent?

— It's just trash. I rent an apartment in Moscow and I can't pay for a room here. It is enough to cover only half. In London, we have no w.pa of the world, but not exactly posh. But lately, especially since 2022, I really live like a dog. Tell me who knew in 2017 that there was a pandemic ahead, a divorce, an armed conflict with Ukraine would begin, SWIFT would be closed, they would not let anyone with a Russian passport anywhere, and our sport would be shut inside…I understand that I'm not the only one who has survived this and it's hard for everyone. But damn…

— I didn't understand about the apartment — do you rent it? Or how do you work?

— We divide it in half. And how is it arranged in Russia?

— It happens in different ways, but more often guys take over.

— It's usually 50-50 here. Well, I also lack one feature. Here, to get a good place, you need to be friends with everyone, go to coffee, write on LinkedIn. And I don't know how to do it. There are people who know how to get into different places without soap. Here I have the opposite. Probably, it is not given to me to become a careerist. Many times I thought about how life would have turned out if I hadn't left Russia.

— I can't imagine you in our sport at all.

—Exactly. That's why I didn't stay. I am not material for Russian sports at all. Yes, as if not only for Russian. I'm kind of too innocent to work in European sports and too naughty for Russian.

— What are you living on now? There is a rental apartment in Moscow. I understand you're entitled to a lifetime scholarship for the Sochi 2014 medal?

— No, I don't get anything for it. And I don't know what to do to get it. I don't even have anyone to ask.

— Then only freelance remains?

— But it is permanent. I'm not under contract, but I have three jobs in different places. And this allows you to feel at least some stability.

— Have you considered how much you need for a month of living in London?

— Five years ago I would not have been able to answer this question, but now I will say it easily: 2700 pounds. Transfer — 343 thousand rubles. It's not greasing. Not on one chicken broth, as I can, but sometimes still go to a cafe or a movie, order food, pay for subscriptions, buy a T-shirt or some other bullshit.

— Is there something like a living wage in London?

— In my opinion, the minimum wage is 11 pounds per hour. That's about 25 thousand pounds a year. Under 3.1−3.2 million rubles. That's just the fuck you'll live on them in London.

— What did it take you a long time to get used to in England?

— That you need to take out the trash on a certain day — bin day. Each district has its own. Conditionally, in Brent — Monday, if you live in Camden — Tuesday, and so on. Also, the local health care system is designed so that at 8 am you need to call the clinic — and only then you can book a doctor. And first of all, the general one. Something like a therapist. You can't sign up directly, for example, to an ophthalmologist, you need to go to him first.

— The feeling that you will find a good job with a decent salary — and all the puzzles will immediately get up.

— And also, if they unfreeze all the funds, it will be awesome. I'll go and get a manicure right away, haha!

— Freezing of funds, problems with cards, SWIFT — have you ever wondered why ordinary people who have no influence on anything get especially hurt because of sanctions?

— It's a shame that the light has closed on you once again. And there's no one to talk to. I associated myself with the Russian flag for so long, I went to the awards, and then suddenly a huge rewriting of history and division of opinions began. They begin to explain to you from different sides how it really was. Someone pointed a condemning finger, some came up: "Don't worry, it's not your fault." Yeah, thanks a lot for letting me sit here!

Damn, there are huge geopolitical events going on, and someone is trying to explain to me that it's not about me? Are you serious?! It is difficult for me even among the Russian community to talk about this topic. It's very hard to go through everything that happens. But at the same time, there are those who consider it right to pour shit on the whole country and all people — I don't want to participate in this either. You know, when Trump won this US election, I was really happy.

— Hope for change?

— Yes! So he won — and I went happy, as if it was my birthday. I really hope that he will finish this whole story as soon as possible. Because, damn, well, how much is possible? Neither I nor many others signed up for this experience. He is terribly unpleasant. I want a normal life for everyone. I want freedom — choice, movement.

— Would a British passport be a solution to travel issues?

— Of course, it would be much easier. But I've been living here on a student visa for 5 years, and with such a scenario, these years are not taken into account in terms of citizenship applications.

— From the height of current experience: what does a person need for happiness?

— Less ambition and less brain.

— Suddenly.

— Grief from the mind, do you understand? The Scottish philosopher David Yun said something like: "You can't be led by your desires, you will be unhappy."

— It's the lot of creative people to feel so deeply.

— Yes, I've heard that some people pay a lot of money to feel at least something. I feel everything for free. And I paid to not feel for a while.