Street Cleaners

Street Cleaners project was done for the "Art Prospect" Festival which was organized and introduced by the "CEC Artslink" charity fund. My project included portraits of people who came from Kirgiztan and Tadjikistan to Russia to make money. They told me their stories while I was painting them. Later I displayed the portraits and the stories in an arch of a house in the street. Many people in Russia hate migrants only because of their different nationality. I wanted my show to tell about the migrants. So after reading their private stories, after learning in what conditions they have to live in, and how much hard work they have to do to earn money to feed their children, Russians can feel pity to these people, not feel threatened by them and become more accepting.

Dilya

I was upset with my mother. Why did she make me marry so early? At my mother-in-law’s house I had to get up at 3 am and make tea, bake bread, and milk the cows. They had a big yard. There was so much cleaning to do. My husband helped me when my mother-in-law was not watching.

I like it here. People say nothing to each other. Nobody cares what you are wearing. I can’t say no. I do what I can. I cleaned apartment for one woman. I washed the windows. She told me she couldn’t pay. I said: "You don’t have to." Each time she sees me, she gives me an apple.

Omar

Someone hit me from behind and I fell. Everything after that is blank. I felt terrible, but at the Alexander hospital, they did nothing for me—no temperature check, not even a single injection. My only thought was about getting home, but I couldn't cross the border without my documents. I told my relatives I had lost my passport, not the truth. Why make them worry? I'll tell them the whole story once I'm home.

Sivara

We came here to work, not to steal. People here treat us like criminals, but I am just trying to earn a living. Back home, my 90-year-old father calls me every time asking: 'When are you coming home, daughter?' Our family is big - fifty people gather when we all come together.

Raihon

Life at home became unbearable, so three years ago my husband left for Russia to earn money. At first, he called regularly and sent money home. Then he disappeared. Everyone around me thought he was dead, but I couldn't accept that. I came here to find him, though I had nothing—no address, no money, no home, no help. For three months, I searched construction sites and farmers markets, sleeping at the train station. Then one day, I saw him in the subway. I couldn't believe my eyes and ran toward him with joy. That's when I saw a Russian woman holding his hand. 'Forget me, don't look for me anymore,' my husband said, then hugged the woman and boarded the train.

Life here is easy compared to home, where there are no jobs, no money.