Let's Talk About Me

Many people told me they were interested to hear about my life, my job, and my Aliyah experience. So here it goes.

I was barely more than a toddler when we left the Soviet Union, yet I have some vivid memories from the journey and the years that followed. Note that this is a child’s impression of international politics.

Please don’t cite me in your research papers.

I was born in Moscow.

I have only fond memories from the imperial, snowy city and our cozy dacha outside he city. We picked mushrooms in the forest, spent time by the crackling fire, and always made sure not to anger our domovoi. All my toys were hefty combat vehicles or ancient warriors made from the same metal they made tanks from.

My only bad memory is getting nightmares from seeing Lenin’s pickled cadaver in the Kremlin. I liked the rest of that trip though, especially the marching troops and the colorful cathedral that looked like a giant toy.

I’ve always known that I was a different nationality from most people. I’d often ask my parents about random people, “Is he Jewish? Is she Jewish? Is this cat Jewish?” However, this was just trivia in my mind, not something important.

Even in Moscow I rode camels

I was almost five when we made Aliyah.

On the way, I heard someone in the airport saying there was a whole TV channel just for kids in Israel. It sounded like magic to me. I discussed this with my parents, wondering if such a thing was possible. We all agreed I’ve misheard this person or maybe they were fantasizing.

We were amazed when we arrived in Israel and it turned out to be true.

It’s a small thing, but it’s the best illustration of what it’s like to move from a socialist society to a free market society. What struck us the most was the bounty, the variety, the diversity, the fun, offered by daily life in Israel.

It was as if life suddenly went from monochrome to color.

My brother’s service rifle was my favorite toy for a day

In Israel, we still had to deal with prejudice, although of a different kind and not institutional. I guess this is just humans are.

In the early 90s, Israel was plagued with hostility towards Russian-speakers, especially from North African Jews. I got into many fights because of this.

In fact, my earliest memory from kindergarten was beating a boy with a pipe because he and his friends accosted me for my accent. Later, I was kicked out of school for throwing chairs out of a window at the kids below for much the same reason. I regret nothing.

Fun fact about my family: every single one of us was kicked out of school at some point in life. I’d be a bad Kurlianchik if I broke this tradition.

Nevertheless, it was magical leaving the Soviet Union and coming to Israel. It was a shift from mediocrity and grimness to a life of plenty and variety.

Highly recommended.

And now I have a beard

A lot of people also asked about my job.

First of all, my “influencer-activities” (for lack of a better term) account for a significant portion of my income, so I definitely consider it a job and take it very seriously. At least as much I can take anything seriously.

However, I also have a regular job.

Most of the time, it’s rather silly, but there are moments worth talking about.

So, what is my job?

I play D&D with kids and teens in schools and community centers. This is called “chugim” in Israel. Extracurricular, enriching activities that range from drawing comics and Lego engineering to training dogs and classical ballet.

So much depends on a single roll!

One of the things I love about my job is that it’s absolutely harmless. There’s no moral ambiguity there. It doesn’t come at the expense of anyone and doesn’t harm anyone (unless you count imaginary monsters).

Basically, I’m a professional storyteller.

Usually, when I do one-shot games, it’s birthday events for kids. However, one time I did an unusual gig: a game for a bunch of kids in their late forties.

The event was a surprise birthday party for a man who used to play D&D in high school but he and his gaming buddies drifted apart after their military service and had never played since.

For his 40th birthday, his friends decided to surprise him with a D&D game and hired me to run a nostalgic adventure for them.

I chose “The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh” which is basically a D&D version of Scooby Doo. A very fun, lighthearted adventure you can finish in one evening.

When the birthday “boy” entered his kitchen and saw his childhood party, some of whom he haven’t seen in 20 years, playing D&D just like in the old days—same old dice, same old jokes—he was moved to tears.

This was one of the most special games I’ve ever had the privilege to be a part of.

So, this is my life and my job when there are no rockets dropping on my head. It’s not epic, but I like it.

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