Solyanka 265: We ask for protection, imitation, stress, CSS, sleeping city and marking time

This episode of our news has been incredibly stressful. And there’s only one conclusion to draw from this situation: further fighting for rights is pointless; now we definitely need to change the city and department.

Please protect us from harassment by OPH Meuse

I’d like to share a situation our young family is experiencing with the HLM operator OPH Meuse. We’ve been trying for a long time to get them to move to safe housing, as our current OPH Meuse apartment has a strong chemical odor. Last fall, we filed quite a few complaints.

OPH Meuse representatives dealt with them in the most straightforward way possible. They visited us twice without prior approval. My wife was in the late stages of pregnancy at the time, and we weren’t happy about these uninvited visits. But no one questioned us about anything. Naturally, no examinations were conducted.

But then, in response to all inquiries, representatives from OPH Meuse said they had conducted an inspection and found nothing wrong. Very convenient. In addition to complaints about the pungent chemical odor, we also complained about the noise in the courtyard and the inability to sleep in the bedrooms because of it. These complaints were also ignored. After trying to involve various associations and the department’s regulatory bodies, I realized they were working closely with OPH Meuse. And we couldn’t count on their objectivity.

On April 13th, plumbers from OPH Meuse visited our apartment. They fixed leaks in the common pipes. So, OPH Meuse representatives had only been here recently. Incidentally, it’s possible that this leak was one of the causes of the moldy smell in our apartment. However, since the purpose of the OPH Meuse employees’ autumn visits was to demonstrate how wonderful everything was, this problem wasn’t identified until the water had already made its way into the neighbors’ apartments below.

On April 21, the president of OPH Meuse received another of our registered letters, with a return receipt requested, requesting safe housing. Since then, we’ve been fending off attempts by this organization and its affiliates to visit our home and prepare another report on how wonderful everything is.

On April 28, I emailed our contact at OPH Meuse, informing them that we would like to cancel the visit from OPH Meuse specialists to our home, as our little daughter is still very afraid of strangers. I received no response. However, on Monday, we received a registered letter with a return receipt from OPH Meuse stating that they would still be coming. This letter was sent on April 29, one day after I emailed them about the visit.

I view such actions as pressure. I ask for assistance and protection from the arbitrary actions of OPH Meuse officials. I understand that management company representatives have the right to visit our apartment. However, I have already formally stated my refusal. OPH Meuse representatives visited our apartment twice in the fall and once in April of this year. Neither of these visits was authorized by us.

I believe we have the right to have our lives private. And I wouldn’t even object to these visits if their purpose were an objective assessment. But the goal here is different: to visit us with the aim of subsequently exonerating the management of OPH Meuse in the context of a potential lawsuit.

We are people who were granted asylum for political reasons (as journalists). We have a three-month-old child who is afraid of strangers. We are currently in a state close to depression. We have been through a huge number of trials. We have been living in Bar-le-Duc for a year now. And all this year, we have been subjected to systematic harassment by the structures that are supposed to protect us.

Yes, it’s safe to assume there’s something wrong with us. But I’m receiving a ton of feedback from French subscribers who are telling me they’ve encountered exactly the same problems. I ask you not to interfere in our lives. I ask you to leave us alone. If the officials at certain organizations are categorically unwilling to tolerate us trying to fight for our rights, I ask you to help us move to Nancy or another large city.

I’m a journalist, photographer, and marketer, and my wife is a banking analyst and environmentalist. In a small town, we have no chance. We took the fact that we were sent to the Meuse department philosophically. But we are categorically unwilling to tolerate all this tyranny. Therefore, we are asking for help from department and city officials, as well as from representatives of local civil society. I am asking for help from national agencies, the Prime Minister, and the President of France.

I care deeply about France and Bar-le-Duc; I’ve taken many beautiful photographs of this and other towns. We’re genuinely trying to become part of the local community. We’re asking for help and protection. Because we’ve found ourselves alone, facing a heartless bureaucratic machine. Instead of integrating and learning the language, we’re forced to constantly fight for our survival. It’s terribly exhausting and drains us of any remaining strength. We’re literally being driven to the brink!

There will be no objective examination!

Either I’m not explaining it well, or there are people who don’t want to understand. I’ll explain the logic behind the actions of the OPH Meuse staff. As I understand it.

1. There’s a tenant with a problematic apartment from OPH Meuse who regularly files complaints and has contacts in the media. The management company is desperate to silence him.
2. OPH Meuse representatives enter the apartment and simulate an inspection. Naturally, regardless of the actual state of the apartment, the apartment will be assessed as in perfect condition.
3. When requests come in from authorities and journalists, they will be sent information about the results of this homemade “examination.”
4. If a tenant files complaints with various inspectorates and housing monitoring services, this information will be forwarded either directly to OPH Meuse or to organizations affiliated with them. In this case, no independent assessment, objectivity, or impartiality can be expected.

As I’ve already said, in my opinion, the visits from OPH Meuse representatives aren’t intended to investigate the problem or find the source of the odor. They’re simply pretending to conduct an examination so they can constantly refer to it later. That’s why I don’t intend to let them in. We have a young daughter, and she’s still very afraid of strangers. Therefore, I ask that you don’t disturb us. If necessary, I’ll escalate this matter to the highest level. Please don’t terrorize people in vulnerable situations! We will protect ourselves!

Stress is a major hindrance to language learning and integration.

For my last French class, I thoroughly completed my homework. I took the initiative to prepare four sheets of vocabulary used in the Leboncoin rental section, translated them into English, printed them out, and memorized them. I translated them into English because my teacher and I communicate in English, which is my best language. At the same time, I’m brushing up on my English, which is also very helpful.

My teacher is very good. And he does everything possible to help me progress faster in my language learning. It was after my lesson with this teacher that I started making noticeable progress. However, stress is a bad aid to learning. I had a hard time remembering new words in class. And this made me very sad.

I couldn’t help but think not about my lessons, but about how to prevent strangers from breaking into our home. I also thought about how to avoid additional stress for my wife and three-month-old daughter. When I’m calm or in a positive frame of mind, I make good progress in French. But unfortunately, I’m rarely in a calm and positive frame of mind anymore.

Yesterday Nicole turned three months old, and we wanted to celebrate a little. But the celebration was ruined by a registered letter from OPH Meuse informing us that they wanted to come to our house against our will. Yes, we wouldn’t be home at the appointed time. But the management company representatives would try to come again and again. They would pressure us, threaten us, retaliate, and send letters.

This entire year we’ve spent in Bar-le-Duc has been a kind of endless hell for us. We’re constantly under intense pressure. Some influential officials are taking revenge on us for daring to defend our rights, file complaints, and raise hell. There’s hope that with the arrival of the new mayor and prefect, the situation will improve.

But surely many of the unkind people who make life hell for vulnerable people will keep their jobs! We feel trapped. And judging by the fact that many local residents, as well as Ukrainians who found themselves here, eventually left the city, we’re not the only ones who feel this way.

A winding path with no room for error

I understand that reading my posts must be quite sad. Many people skim the text posts and look only at the photos. Especially people born in Bar-le-Duc or somehow connected to it. I’d happily write about the good and the bright. Why should I add to the grief?! Some of my fellow refugees can’t read me. They can’t stand it. Because they’re going through the same thing themselves, and they’re looking for a distraction online.

The problem is that there’s little good in our lives. And when something positive happens, I always write about it. I write about it as if it were a positive thing, even when it’s just some kind of hope, even if it’s illusory. Then it’s very embarrassing when it turns out I was overly optimistic. It’s as if I’ve deceived myself and my followers.

I ask the French not to be offended if they feel I’m being too critical of their country. But I’m not criticizing. I’m simply talking about our lives. And sharing the conclusions I’ve reached. You know, I love and hate Bar-le-Duc at the same time. I love it for its beauty, for the preservation of its historical environment, for its flowers and its embankments.

At the same time, I’m saddened by the fact that the Côte Sainte-Catherine area is so inconvenient to live in, and that vulnerable people are driven to these remote areas. I dream of public transportation that runs every 10–15 minutes, including evenings, holidays, and weekends; I dream of a good route into the city center, accessible to people with disabilities and families with strollers.

Among my followers, there are quite a few people who lived here in the past. Back then, the buildings were relatively new and comfortable, and there were various useful businesses around. I completely understand why everyone is fleeing here. We would have fled too if we had the chance. We probably would have felt more comfortable if we had lived in the lower part of the city. But we are here, up here.

I understand the love and affection people have for their hometown, who grew up here, who have friends and relatives here. Our hometown is three and a half thousand kilometers away. We’ll likely never see it again. I’ll likely never see my parents again. We have no friends or relatives in Bar-le-Duc. Our social circle is extremely small — our small family. The only thing that keeps me going is my daughter’s joyful smile. She smiles almost always when she sees us. It gives me strength.

I don’t seek out interaction with people of Russian descent. We even avoid it. Because among Russians, the chances of running into supporters of Putin and the war are very high. We are equally cautious when interacting with Ukrainians. After all, after what Russia did to Ukraine, Ukrainians have every reason to hate us.

Although here we occasionally communicate with Ukrainian women we met at language and integration courses. They are very kind. I am also cautious about making contact with the French. I know there are many very kind people among my followers. When I see the names of followers on Facebook, I know there will be something kind and positive in the comments.

But, you know, we’ve experienced too much injustice from officials in our lives. And there’s been so much hatred against us online. There’s been so much lies and malice that now we don’t trust anyone anymore. And we evaluate every new contact primarily from the standpoint of a security threat. I constantly receive threats and complaints from people whose pages repost posts from various far-right politicians. After all this, I’ve stopped trusting all politicians. And when someone insistently wants to meet with me, I perceive it as a threat.

Subscribers have written to me repeatedly that I’ll never be treated as well anywhere as I am in Bar-le-Duc. This always surprises me. There have been good things here, too, though. And there still are. The city itself. My kind subscribers. My French teacher. The kindest sage-famme who came to our home, the social worker from MDS who regularly helped us, and much more.

But we’re still in a foreign environment. We know that finding work and housing in Bar-le-Duc is difficult even for French people. I don’t have a chance here. When I started a microbusiness, I initially assumed that my clients would be in larger cities. Here, we’re simply trying to survive. And we’re doing very poorly.

I really don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess it’s easier for me this way. If I remain silent, despair will consume me from the inside. And I have a little daughter. And I somehow need to move her to a place where we have at least some prospects. I know that in order to pull my family out of trouble, I need to do the impossible many times over. I know what I need to do. But I have no idea how to take these steps. I’m very tense because I have no room for error. Thank you to everyone who read this to the end.

Very purposeful marking time

Launching the test mode for my future microbusiness is still a challenge. Oddly enough, I don’t have the time. Renting alternative housing is also a bleak prospect. Our family doesn’t meet GLI requirements at all. And more accommodating landlords usually offer apartments either in inconvenient locations with infrequent transportation, or apartments with problems or even health risks. It’s complicated. Nevertheless, even with these bleak initial conditions, I’ve had four apartment viewings. And I plan to keep looking.

CSS Nicole was attached to my Vitale card

But there’s some good news. Nicole’s CSS has been linked to my card. Now I’ll need to update my information at the pharmacy and try to get reimbursed for medications I spent while we didn’t have the CSS. In the end, getting the final version of the CSS took three months, a lot of stress, dozens of messages to customer support, a personal visit to the insurance company office, a meeting with a social worker, and a letter from him to CPAM.

There’s a result, and that’s great. But we’ve spent a fair amount of time, energy, and nerves on all of this. It’s all quite exhausting for us, because we take everything so personally. Otherwise, there’s been no positive change. The fight for new social housing seems futile to me. I need to try to find at least some housing outside the Meuse department and move there. So far, my search hasn’t yielded any results. I’ll be looking into guarantors. I’m also doing some project preparation work. But all these stressful situations are really slowing down the process.

By focusing on its own exclusivity, the city loses the chance to develop

People periodically write to me about how incredibly special the Meuse department is. And how you have to earn the love and respect of the locals. There’s no other way, they say. Naturally, I accept the rules and customs of the place where I came to live (not by choice). But there’s one caveat. I’ve been to many places. I’ve lived in many places. And I’ve come to the conclusion that trying to earn someone’s love and respect is pointless. You’ll be accepted or not, regardless of your wishes.

The smaller the city, the longer this process will take. The more culturally different you are from the locals, the more difficult it will be. In my case, there’s also the language barrier. But honestly, I strive to live in a way that doesn’t require anyone’s acceptance. So that I can live normally simply based on healthy pragmatism.

When I had a small business, clients came to me not because I had earned their love and respect, but because it was profitable for them. Meanwhile, in a city where everything is built on personal contacts, my services are simply not needed. Moreover, I will always lose out to people a potential client has known since childhood. In a system where personal connections matter far more than anything else, I simply don’t stand a chance.

Because, no matter how integrated I am, I’ll always be “that Russian refugee” for many people with a provincial mentality. That doesn’t mean I’ll always be an outsider. But by the time I can truly become one, my daughter will have grown up. Perhaps I’m exaggerating. But I’d like to live in a place where healthy pragmatism prevails.

I’ll never be one of the French for most people. I’ll never be closer than a godfather, a matchmaker, or a brother. But I’d love to be “that Russian who takes great photos and attracts clients.” But, again, my chances would be slim in a world where personal contacts are everything and there’s simply no budget for promotion.

In my opinion, every city is exceptional in its own way. Every city has its own unique characteristics. Many have their own rich history. But when people are obsessively fixated on traditions and their own exceptionalism, it usually means that everything else about the city is lacking.

When people say, “We’re safe,” it often also means, “We’re rapidly losing our young population.” When they say, “We need to earn respect,” it usually means, “Outsiders aren’t welcome here.” When they say, “We don’t need roads/transportation/prospects/development,” it usually means, in my opinion, resentment. And deep down, people understand the need for all of this.

I’m trying to convey that, in my view, healthy pragmatism is always more valuable and sensible than some kind of provincial conceit. There are cities and people who have found their place in this challenging and rapidly changing world. And there are cities and people who haven’t yet managed to do so. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to adapt either. But, frankly, I’m not sure that’s even possible in Bar-le-Duc. Because, as it seems to me, there’s such fierce competition for very limited resources here that I wouldn’t even go near them.

Meanwhile, there are no jobs, rents are out of proportion to wages, and the institutions that are supposed to protect people’s rights are, in fact, protecting the rights of those who distribute the wealth. And when I start talking about this, people tell me I don’t value local traditions. But these aren’t traditions. Often, they’re just plain abuses and corruption.

Perhaps I’m exaggerating a bit. But I find it difficult to explain many processes any other way. I’d like to believe that the new mayor and prefect will be willing and able to change the situation for the better. But frankly, that’s unlikely. Because the system isn’t shaped only by leaders and officials. The governance system is shaped by many, many people. And if governance has already become extremely inert, the situation won’t change for a long time.

That’s why I want to go somewhere where there’s more choice, less dependence on the decisions of officials, and where there are independent institutions that can maintain a reasonable balance. I clearly understand that we absolutely need to leave here. I don’t know if things will be better in a new place. But I do know that here in Bar-le-Duc, people like me will always be considered impudent upstarts.

That’s precisely why promising startups don’t emerge in such small towns. After all, such projects thrive in more open and positive environments and business climates. I’m incredibly sad that this wonderful city is increasingly losing its people and its prospects, turning into a sprawling village. A very large and very beautiful village, but still, a village nonetheless.

And if someone reading these lines feels like writing something rude to me, then, unfortunately, my worst fears are confirmed. If you’re willing to discuss the situation in the city rationally and constructively, then perhaps things aren’t so bad. A city is its people. When people strive for development, a city has a chance to be reborn and find its place.

I ask that the residents of Côte Sainte-Catherine be given back access to the city centre!

I’ve noticed that whenever I post something about the collapse of the retaining wall on Rue de Champagne, the comments immediately become overwhelmed by aggressive people. These people usually don’t comment on anything I post. But they come in such numbers that it’s starting to resemble some kind of campaign to influence public opinion. These raids remind me very much of Putin’s troll farms. Simply posting a photo of the scene is enough to trigger a horrific response in the comments. We’ll see how it goes this time.

I noticed that water is starting to wash away a depression in the embankment beneath the road on Boulevard Pierre Marizier. I don’t know if this is dangerous, but it’s clear there’s some kind of drainage issue. It would be wise to stabilize the soil in this area before the water carves a real ravine there. Heavy rains can wash away the soil very quickly!

I’ve also been asking the city authorities for a long time to pave the dirt path beneath the collapse site. I walk there all the time, sometimes even with a stroller. But after the rains, it’s so muddy. Since we’ve lost the sidewalk along the road to the city center, I’m asking them to pave it further down. It’s been six months since the accident, but the residents of Côte Sainte-Catherine still don’t have a proper path to the center that’s passable with a stroller!

The paths we walk regularly

Photos taken along the route of our daily walks with Nicole.

About the author . My name is Alexander UDIKOV. I am a journalist from Russia who fled my homeland in 2022 due to persecution for articles condemning the attack on Ukraine. In 2024, I received political asylum in France. In this blog, I talk about my new life, sharing my observations and photographs.

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