Arriving at the Moskovsky railway station in St. Petersburg with my backpack on my shoulders, I set out on foot to one of the addresses in the city center, on Vasilievsky Island, just as I had been instructed. The program participants had already gathered there, and I immediately realized who I would be spending the next days with. Among them were: Olya from Belarus; Nagima from Yekaterinburg; Grisha with his friend (they were high school students, about 15 or 16 years old; unfortunately, I do not remember the friend’s name, nor do I recall where Grisha himself was from); Aynur, who was about my age or perhaps a year younger, from Yelabuga in Tatarstan; Dima, a thirty-year-old guy; Ruslan, also my peer, a Tatar, who always surprised me with his calm and peaceful manner, as well as being Evgeny’s assistant; and Evgeny — our leader, who managed the entire program, was responsible for everyone, and kept everything under control. Sometimes, his wife would help, adding a warm, almost family-like atmosphere to the process.
Of everyone present, I only knew Aynur. We had met a few times in Moscow at Volzhskaya, at the main office of the Unification Church, when a movie club was held there. It was Andrey — the same Andrey I had met in July 2013 — who had invited me to that club.
After my arrival, we stayed in the apartment for a while: I had a chance to look at everyone, put down my backpack, and almost immediately Evgeny suggested we go for a walk in downtown St. Petersburg to better feel the spirit of the city. I joined the walk without a second thought. We strolled along Nevsky Prospekt, visited Vasilievsky Island, stopped by Palace Square, and along the way, discussed our expectations for the upcoming program. It was nice to share that moment with people I was about to get to know better. In the evening, we returned to the apartment, grabbed our belongings, and took a bus to one of the city’s residential districts.
We were settled in a large apartment that had been converted into a kindergarten, located in one of St. Petersburg’s residential neighborhoods. The place was really cool — equipped and furnished like an ordinary kindergarten. This was where we planned to do our training.
Every morning began with exercise, and throughout the day, we took on various tasks. We cooked our own meals, went fundraising by selling postcards for a charitable project, and explored the city. The first week was packed with lectures on the life of Sun Myung Moon, and during the second week, we actively raised funds, telling people that we were going to the Kola Peninsula to build wooden walkways for tourists. This was a very interesting and eventful experience.
After two weeks, having raised the necessary funds, we set out for the Kola Peninsula. First, we took a train to Olenegorsk station, where we were met by a thick cloud of mosquitoes, relentlessly swirling around us. It was then that I truly realized the importance of reliable insect repellent. Next, we transferred to a car and drove several dozen more kilometers to the village of Lovozero. From there, we took a boat to Lake Seydozero, located in the state nature reserve of regional significance, “Seidyavr.” There, on the picturesque shore of the lake, we set up camp and began a new, truly special stage of our journey.
Even though it was late, there was still soft, diffused light all around — it was the polar day, when in summer the sun hardly sets below the horizon.
In the morning, we began our volunteer work, and for a week we built a corduroy road — a wooden trail through marshy bogs. This was my first experience of this kind: I lived in a tent, spent a lot of time outdoors, and learned to appreciate every moment of being united with nature. Not even the arrival of a TV crew filming a story about our work could break the special, almost intimate atmosphere of that place.
Since I had completely given up alcohol and cigarettes, my health had been steadily improving. I understood that my depression and nervous exhaustion had largely been caused by my former bad habits. Here, in the realm of polar days, crystal-clear water, and ringing silence, I felt a sense of inner renewal and clarity I could only have dreamed of before.
After returning from the Kola Peninsula, I felt much better and decided to continue participating in the programs. We went to Malakhovka, where we settled in a country house, slept in sleeping bags, and spent every day studying and socializing. Our mentor was Oleg — a tall, almost two-meter-tall man with a powerful voice and a kind-hearted character. He was assisted by his wife Chizana, who supported us warmly and with care in everything we did.
In Malakhovka, we delved into the history of the Japanese occupation of Korea and the life of Sun Myung Moon, which revealed new facets of history and philosophy to us. These classes took place in the mornings and afternoons, and after lunch we often went outside to play active games. This brought us even closer together, creating a sense of unity and real friendship.
In the evenings, we sometimes gathered under the starry sky to listen to stories, or sometimes just shared our dreams. One of our favorite stories was “The Screwtape Letters” by Lewis Carroll. This unusual, witty, and somewhat philosophical style inspired us to look at life from a different perspective. I still remember how someone would read line by line, and we would laugh, marvel, and feel as if we had become part of that amazing fairy tale.
It was a magical time, full of warmth, friendship, and support. It was at that time that I was invited to join a year-long program in Vladivostok. I happily agreed, as this active and vibrant life had become a true source of inspiration for me.
Between my time in Malakhovka and departure for the year-long program, I spent some time at the main office of the Unification Church in Moscow, near Volzhskaya metro station. There I met Elvina, who was looking for a room to live in. At that time, my brother was staying home alone, since I was planning to be away for a year and my room was empty. Seeing this coincidence as a sign from above, I offered Elvina and her friend to stay at our place. So it all worked out: I left for Vladivostok, and they moved into our house.
In early September, I flew to Vladivostok by plane, where I was met at the airport by Dima — the coordinator of the year-long program, who was responsible for our daily schedule. I already knew Dima: we had first met during the Kola program, where he, just like us, was a participant.
After meeting, we took a bus to a rented apartment, where the participants of the year-long program were staying. In this apartment, I also met Dima’s wife, whose name I unfortunately do not remember. They, too, had received the Blessing in the Unification Church and were meant to serve as role models for us. The living arrangements were as follows: the girls lived in one room, the boys in another, and Dima with his wife in a third room. Among the girls was Olya, with whom we had already shared the Kola and Moscow region programs. Among the boys, there was only one participant at that time. He had already received the Blessing with Elvina — the girl who was living in my Moscow apartment at that time.
Every night we slept in sleeping bags on the floor, and this became a familiar format for our living situation. Room separation was strictly observed, in accordance with the rules of the program.
The morning started early — at seven o’clock, with a group prayer, for which everyone gathered in one room. Dima and his wife always stood in front, holding hands and saying the prayer. Sometimes one of us could lead. At the front there was an altar with a photo of Sun Myung Moon and his wife. After that, we did morning exercises, which began with a run around the courtyards and then continued with other exercises. Then came a simple but nutritious breakfast, prepared by a woman who was not a program participant but helped us with everyday life.
After breakfast, we had lectures about the life of Sun Myung Moon and the core principles of the Unification Church. After lunch, we went fundraising, selling souvenirs and contributing the money raised to a common fund. This was an important experience of interacting with people and a test of endurance. At dinner, we would share our spiritual experiences. On one occasion, I told the group about the first dream I had in the summer of 2013, when I accidentally fell asleep and met angels for the first time.
Another dream I shared with the group happened during another period of deep depression. One day, I fell asleep and experienced two vivid, interconnected dreams. In the first dream, I met three tall figures whom I immediately recognized. They confirmed that they were indeed my guardian angels. This time, they seemed slightly displeased, as if they wanted to push me to take action. They made contact with me, as if they gently pressed me, and I felt myself transported to another world. There, I was surrounded by dozens of people who were looking at me, some with irritation. One of them said, “How much longer do we have to work with you? It’s impossible!” Another added, “What everyone was waiting for today will only happen tomorrow.” These words seemed mysterious, yet meaningful to me.
After this dream, I suddenly woke up in my room, but then fell asleep again and saw a second dream. In this one, there was a girl who simply sat nearby and said that she had specifically put me to sleep to see me again and talk. Her words were warm and reassuring, though I no longer remember their exact meaning. After this dream, I had a deep inner feeling that in some spiritual world, I was surrounded by many beings who believed in me and were waiting for something important. This realization helped me find the strength to go on.
After a month in Vladivostok, I began to realize that I had no time left for my own matters, and the church required total commitment. During one of the prayers, held as part of the fundraising, I prayed seriously and sincerely that the Lord would give me a sign on what to do — whether to stay in the year-long program or return to Moscow. When I went outside, I saw a billboard in front of me that read, “To Moscow!” For me, this was a clear answer. I said goodbye to everyone and returned to Moscow.
When I got back, I met Elvina and her friend, who were already living in our apartment. We discussed the situation and decided to live together as a group of four, including my brother. That’s how our shared life began, and it turned out to be very friendly and pleasant. It was an unexpected but positive twist in my story.
