I was born in Kazan, Russia, in 1986 to a single mother. While my mother worked, it was my grandmother who took care of me. In 1992, as soon as the Russian border opened, my mother left the country to work in Switzerland for a few months. I was six years old. She didn’t come back for another two and a half years. The wait was painful. But my Babushka took care of me, and we developed a unique bond.

When my mother finally managed to get the documents needed to come and take me to live with her in Switzerland, I said goodbye to my grandmother without knowing our lives were parting forever.

In Switzerland, my life completely changed. Faced with racism at school, and an absent and mentally unstable mother at home, I wanted to erase my origins. So I decided to forget Russian and everything related to Russia. I started calling my grandmother less often and turning down invitations to visit her in the summer.

Much later, when I myself emigrated to Canada and had my first child, I realized I had erased a part of myself — my childhood and my history. That realization brought me a lot of pain.

When I understood just how important a role Babushka had played in my life, I immediately decided to go see her again — to get to know her and rediscover her. I was finally able to reconnect with a piece of my childhood. I found the grandmother I knew as a child.

My grandmother did not have an easy life, but it was an incredibly surprising one. The stories I knew as a child take on a whole new meaning when viewed through the eyes of an adult.

My Babushka embodies a powerful message: you can live through the worst horrors of the world and still choose to see and share light. I truly believe that this short film, through its small size and personal nature, will always remain deeply relevant.

I traveled to Russia at my own expense in September 2019, just before the pandemic. Because of it, I had to finish the film using my research materials and make do with filming what I lacked in Montreal. In addition, my grandmother had a serious accident in the summer of 2020, and she is no longer in the same state of health as she was in the footage from the documentary.

I decided to make this film about my grandmother to honor women like her and try to find meaning in the spiritual questions that have been on my mind for several years. Through my personal journey and my meeting with her, I want to remind people of the importance of relationships and connection with our elders — of their stories and the personal growth that stems from them.