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INTERCULTURAL RECIPROCAL LEARNING IN
CHINESE AND WESTERN EDUCATION

Cross-Cultural Schooling
Experiences of
Arab Newcomer Students
A Journey in Transition
Between the East and the West

Nesreen Elkord
Intercultural Reciprocal Learning in Chinese
and Western Education

Series Editors
Michael Connelly
University of Toronto
Toronto, ON, Canada

Shijing Xu
Faculty of Education
University of Windsor
Windsor, ON, Canada
This book series grows out of the current global interest and turmoil
over comparative education and its role in international competition.
The ­specific series grows out of two ongoing educational programs
which are integrated in the partnership, the University of Windsor-
Southwest University Teacher Education Reciprocal Learning Program
and the Shanghai-Toronto-Beijing Sister School Network. These
programs provide a comprehensive educational approach ranging
from preschool to teacher education programs. This framework pro-
vides a structure for a set of ongoing Canada-China research teams in
school curriculum and teacher education areas. The overall aim of the
Partnership program, and therefore of the proposed book series, is to
draw on school and university educational programs to create a com-
prehensive cross-cultural knowledge base and understanding of school
education, teacher education and the cultural contexts for education in
China and the West.

More information about this series at

http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/15114
 Nesreen Elkord

Cross-Cultural
Schooling Experiences
of Arab Newcomer
Students
A Journey in Transition Between the East
and the West
Nesreen Elkord
Faculty of Education
University of Windsor
Windsor, ON, Canada

Intercultural Reciprocal Learning in Chinese and Western Education

ISBN 978-3-030-14419-7    ISBN 978-3-030-14420-3 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-14420-3

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature
Switzerland AG 2019
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
­publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to
the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The
publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and
­institutional affiliations.

Cover illustration: © Jirapatch Iamkate / EyeEm / gettyimages

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
 Series Editors’ Introduction

The Series and East-West Contrasting

Educational Narratives
This book series focuses on Chinese and Western education for the p ­ urpose
of mutual understanding and reciprocal learning between the East and the
West. The East has been a puzzle for the West, romanticized or demonized
depending on the times. East-West relations have a long history of inquiry,
and action has often been framed in competitive, ideological, and colonial-
ist terms. In 1926 Dewey complained that “As far as we have gone at all,
we have gone in loco parentis, with advice, with instruction, with example
and precept. Like a good parent we would have brought up China in the
way in which she should go.” (p. 188). This “paternal” attitude, as Dewey
called it, has not always been so benign. Economic, cultural and intellectual
matters have often been in the forefront since the Opium Wars of the
19th Century.
Intellectually the East-West dynamic is equally dramatic as found in works
by authors such as Said (1978), Tu Wei-ming (1993), Hall and Ames (1999),
Hayhoe and Pan (2001) and many others. These writers are part of a rich
conceptual knowledge across cultures literature on the historical, philosophi-
cal, cultural and educational differences of the East and West.
Education is a vital topic of international discussion and essential com-
ponent part of our global consciousness. Global discussions of economics,
national and regional competition, and national and regional futures often
turn to education. Meanwhile local educational discussions take place in
social environments discourse of international awareness. ‘How are our

v
vi SERIES EDITORS’ INTRODUCTION

i­nternational neighbors doing?’ ‘How do they teach values?’ ‘We have to

catch up.’ These matters are vitally important. But they are not new. Higher
education in universities and other forms of postsecondary education has
occupied most of the attention. What is new, and what, in our view, is likely
to have far-reaching impact, is the focus on school education and early
childhood education as well as pre-service teacher education. For several
reasons, not the least of which is national competition, the focus on school
education has been driven by comparative achievement studies. When
Shanghai school students topped the chart in the Program for International
Student Assessment (PISA) studies the information was broadcast world-
wide and generated ferocious discussion. One of the positive outcomes of
this discussion is comparative research interest, the process of comparing
educational similarities and differences in school practices, official policies,
and social cultural influences. This comparative interest is all to the good
and should help frame potential positive comparative futures. But com-
parative research on similarity and difference is not enough. We believe we
need to reach beyond the study of similarities and differences and to explore
life filled school practices of people in different cultures coming together
and learning from one another. In this postmodern world of instant world-
wide communication we need to go beyond comparative premises. Ideas,
thoughts, images, research, knowledge, plans and policies are in constant
interaction. This book series hopes to move our international educational
research onto this collaborative and interactive educational landscape of
schools, parents, communities, policy and international trends and forces.

Series Objectives and Contribution to Knowledge

The book series grew out of our seven-year Canada-China partnership
study on reciprocal educational learning between Canada and China (Xu
and Connelly, 2013–2020). The partnership developed from the current
global interest and turmoil over comparative education and its role in inter-
national competition. The specific series grows out of two ongoing educa-
tional programs which are integrated in the partnership, the University of
Windsor-Southwest University Teacher Education Reciprocal Learning
Program and the Shanghai-Toronto-Beijing Sister School Network. These
programs provide a comprehensive educational approach ranging from
preschool to teacher education programs. This framework provides a struc-
ture for a set of ongoing Canada-China research teams in school c­ urriculum
and teacher education areas. The overall aim of the Partnership program,
and therefore of the proposed book series, is to draw on school and
 SERIES EDITORS’ INTRODUCTION vii

­ niversity educational programs to create a comprehensive cross-­cultural

u
knowledge base and understanding of school education, teacher education
and the cultural contexts for education in China and the West.
The first few books in the series will be direct outgrowths of our partner-
ship study. But because of current global conditions, there is a great deal of
important related work underway throughout the world. We encourage sub-
missions to the series and expect the series to become a home for collabora-
tive reciprocal learning educational work between the East and the West. The
starting point in our Canada-China Reciprocal Learning Partnership’s is the
idea of a global community in which ideas, things, and people flow between
countries and cultures (Xu and Connelly 2013). There is intense public dis-
cussion in Canada over international relations with China. The publication of
international student achievement scores that rank China at the top has
resulted in growing scholarly and public discussion on the differences in our
educational systems. The discussion tends to focus on economic and trade
relations while educational reciprocity and reciprocal learning are often
absent from educational discourse. Given that the Chinese are Canada’s and
Ontario’s largest immigrant group and that Chinese students have statisti-
cally shown academic excellence, it is critical to explore what we can learn
from Chinese philosophies of education and its educational system, and what
Canada can offer China in return.
The Partnership’s overall goal is to compare and contrast Canadian and
Chinese education in such a way that the cultural narratives of each provide
frameworks for understanding and appreciating educational similarities and
differences. We expect other work generated outside our partnership Grant
to have different starting points and socially relevant arguments. But we do
expect all series works to share the twin goals of mutual understanding and
reciprocal learning.
Built on these twin goals the purpose of the book series is to create and
assemble the definitive collection of educational writings on the similari-
ties, differences and reciprocal learnings between education in the East
and the West. Drawing on the work of partnership oriented researchers
throughout the world, the series is designed to:

• build educational knowledge and understanding from a cross-­

cultural perspective;
• support new approaches to research on curriculum, teaching and
learning in schools and teacher education programs in response to
change brought on by heightened global awareness;
viii SERIES EDITORS’ INTRODUCTION

• provide a compelling theoretical frame for conceptualizing the

­philosophical and narrative historical trajectories of these two com-
pelling worldviews on education, society and culture;
• Provide state of the art reviews of the comparative Chinese and English
language literature on school curriculum and teacher education;
• Model, sustainable, school to school structures and methods of com-
munication and educational sharing between Canada, other English
­speaking countries and China;
• Model, sustainable, structures and methods of initial teacher training
in cross-cultural understanding;
• Contribute to a documented knowledge base of similarities, differ-
ences, comparisons and reciprocal learnings in elementary and sec-
ondary school teaching and learning curricula.

Michael Connelly

Shijing Xu

References
Dewey, J. (1926). America and the Far East. Survey, 1 May, 1926, 188. Later pub-
lished in: John Dewey, The Later works, 1925–1953, (1984). Volume 2:
1925–1927, pp. 1173–1175.
Hayhoe, R., & Pan, J. (Eds.). (2001). Knowledge across cultures: A contribution to
dialogue among civilizations. Hong Kong: Comparative Education Research
Centre, The University of Hong Kong
Said, E. W. (1978). Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books.
Tu, W. (1993). Way, learning, and politics: Essays on the Confucian intellectual.
Albany: State University of New York Press.
Xu, S., & Connelly F. M. (Project Directors). (2013). Reciprocal learning in
teacher education and school education between Canada and China. Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) 2013–2020
[Grant 895-2012-1011].
 Foreword

Nesreen Elkord begins the journey of her book, Cross-Cultural Schooling

Experiences of Arab Newcomer Students: A Journey in Transition Between the
East and the West, with the story of a casual encounter. Stopping at a dollar
store to make a small purchase, Nesreen is greeted by a middle-aged Arabic-
speaking woman. The older woman asks her, “What is it to be Canadian?”
The question arises from a deep concern: how can this family raise their
children to belong to and identify with their family’s culture and religion
while at the same time allowing them to become part of the Canadian soci-
ety in which they now live? Without going into detail, this woman says her
children have suffered enough, and she would like them to be able to enjoy
the upcoming Halloween celebrations at school and in their neighborhood;
the father of the family fears the children will lose their home culture, and
believes his children can belong while remaining different.
This incident raises many of the questions that circle around the issue
of how we are to live in societies that are increasingly multicultural, how
newcomers can preserve their culture while being welcomed and encour-
aged to become part of society, how children in particular can be helped
to learn a new language and culture without deepening cultural conflicts
within the family, and not least, how best to deal with past traumas that
many newcomers bring with them from situations of war, conflict, and
social breakdown in their home countries. Nesreen Elkord’s book
addresses these crucial concerns in a timely and moving way. The book
draws much of its power from the author’s own experience as a youngster
who immigrated to Canada from an Arabic-speaking Moslem background,
and later as a teacher in the Canadian educational system. As a graduate

ix
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x FOREWORD

student, she courageously chose to engage with issues that are for her
simultaneously deeply personal, professional, and academic.
The main chapters of the book are devoted to the stories of Safa, Basel,
Deema, and Laura, four Arab newcomers to Canadian society and to the
high schools of Windsor, Ontario. These students and members of their
families were interviewed with great sensitivity by the author, who also
observed and helped out in the schools they attended, as well as conduct-
ing supplementary interviews with teachers, administrators, and other per-
sonnel in each school, and with three additional students who immigrated
to Canada at a younger age. Grounded in this careful fieldwork, the stories
of these young people are told in rich and precise detail, in their own
words and in their own voices.
While all four students share a more or less common Arab culture, their
family backgrounds and personal stories are remarkably diverse. They arrived
in Canada from different countries (Iraq, Somalia, Jordan, and Syria), most
as immigrants and one as a refugee. The pace of their adaptation to school
in Canada varied, as did the support their families were able to provide and
the students’ own expectations for learning and for their academic and voca-
tional futures. Through their stories, a wide range of issues come up for
consideration: the conflict of culture and religion of the newcomers with the
predominant culture; family values, patterns, and parenting styles as they
interact with school expectations; intergenerational issues arising within
families as the younger generation adapts to the surrounding culture; the
occasional missteps of thoughtful and well-meaning teachers who fail to
take account of small nuances of the newcomers’ culture; and, not least, the
impact of trauma on students’ lives, and what might support their readiness
to learn, make friends, and take part in school activities. Thus the stories
afford us a broad and nuanced understanding of the lives of the four high
school students, and allow us to comprehend the lives and situations of Arab
newcomers in the Canadian school milieu, as well as shedding light on the
experience of immigrant students more widely.
The stories presented by Elkord also allow us, in the words of Hannah
Arendt (1978), to “train the imagination to go visiting”—to use the imagi-
nation to understand the perspectives of others. As we read the stories of
these newcomer youth, we cannot help but empathize with their experi-
ence; and feeling with them, we begin also to see the world anew—from
their perspectives or, perhaps, from the perspective we ourselves would
have if we stood in their shoes. Standing in a new place also allows us a
more critical view of what had previously been taken for granted. This,
 FOREWORD xi

crucially, is what is required of educators who teach students different from

themselves, whether different in experience, abilities, culture, religion,
beliefs, or practices. And increasingly, this is the situation of many educa-
tional workers today given the rapid pace of change and increasing diversity
in society. Thus a work like Elkord’s is a vital and precious resource for
teachers as well as for researchers in education.
Hannah Arendt commented that “Storytelling reveals meaning with-
out committing the error of defining it.” So it is with Elkord’s book which
gives us a rich portrait of the lives of Arab newcomers in Canadian schools,
allowing us to better understand their interactions with the society around
them, without thereby reducing their lives and experience to stereotypes
or easy generalizations. The book illuminates many of the issues that con-
cern the newcomer students, their families, and their teachers: how to live
authentically in one’s home culture while sharing and participating in the
wider culture without losing one’s identity; how to mediate between fam-
ily concerns and the requirements of the school system; how to bring
newcomer students into the shared school culture while respecting their
need for safety and privacy. These are issues that should preoccupy all of us
as educators and researchers, but perhaps more importantly as citizens
concerned with the lives of all the children in our schools.

Faculty of Education Freema Elbaz-Luwisch

University of Haifa
Haifa, Israel
March 2019
 Preface

What Does It Mean to Be an Arab-Canadian?

The air was getting cooler as I took my morning walk after dropping off my
children at school on an October morning in 2012. I had resolved to walk for
an hour each morning before going to university to prepare for my graduate
assistantship work in order to sharpen my physical and mental capabilities as
I began my doctoral journey. I knew from the outset that it was not going to be
easy, but what I did not realize then was how difficult it would be to make
educational meaning of it all and to be of the greatest service for the upcoming
generation of new Canadians. I felt a rising tension as the fall 2012 semester
was winding up and time to declare my research topic was fast approaching. I
always knew I wanted to make myself and my research useful for my Canadian
community, yet determining the exact venue and means through which I
would do so was something I had to grapple with.
On that morning, I reached into my crossbody bag for my water bottle only
to discover that I had forgotten to pack it before leaving home earlier that day.
I decided to make a quick stop to buy a new bottle from a local Dollarama
store that I passed each day on my morning walks. I grabbed a bottle from the
front fridge and as I approached the cashier, a middle-aged Arabic-speaking
woman greeted me and said in Arabic, “May I ask you a question?” I paused
to listen as she introduced herself as a newly arrived Arab immigrant and she
then asked me, “What does it mean to become Canadian?”
I listened to her as she recounted an argument she had with her husband
regarding their family’s decision on whether to decorate their front yard for
Halloween. She explained, “My children are excited for Halloween. They see

xiii
xiv PREFACE

front yards decorated as we walk around the neighbourhood and they ask if
we will do the same. They have been introduced to Halloween at school as a
fun and exciting occasion filled with decorations, adventures, candies, and
treats.” She justified her point of view: “We have been through a lot and I
think it’s finally time for my children to be happy and they need to feel like they
belong. My husband insists they do not need to do the same as everyone in order
to be happy. I understand he is afraid they could lose their identity and forget
their heritage and Arabic traditions, but I argued they don’t need to be dif-
ferent in order to keep their Arab connections.”
As the woman told me of the Halloween argument with her husband, she
said that her spouse had challenged her with the following question: “How
Canadian do you want them to become?” The woman said she did not have a
ready answer for his question, nor was she even sure what it meant to “become
Canadian.” (Diary excerpts—September 27, 2012)
I reflected on this brief encounter during my morning walks in the days
that followed, and the woman’s questions resonated with me and brought
to mind topics that had long puzzled me. I thought about my early days
in Canada as a high school student. Such memories began to shape my
thoughts about research as I recalled my early immigration experience,
and how impressed I was by the beautiful fall days followed by spectacular
Christmas lights during winter, as well as other “Canadian” occasions that
made learning about Canada fun and exciting. I continued to reflect on
my school days as I recalled how I felt during my first few years in Canada.
I recalled Ms. Sandra, my English as a Second Language teacher, who
greeted me and my fellow newcomer classmates with the widest smile
every day. She used to place a bowl of candies on her desk and she would
tell us a little about the connection between the types of candies in the
bowl and any given seasonal festivities. She would then let us sample the
candies and sometimes we would share something traditional from our
own cultures as well. These memories made me appreciate the effort
Ms. Sandra put into preparing these classroom ice-breaker activities. Recalling
these memories while thinking of the woman’s argument with her h ­ usband
about Halloween, I realized that well-intentioned gestures like Ms. Sandra’s
may have led to similar arguments in the homes of some newcomers. And
then, I was struck by the thought of how such sincere efforts by educators
who are passionate and caring may not necessarily be in the best interest
of all involved, if such classroom practices were not based on a solid
ground of cultural knowledge and practical planning.
 PREFACE xv

Pondering this woman’s dilemma about Halloween, it struck me that I

too had experienced similar challenges in my childhood home and some
had continued into my adulthood as a parent. Yet, although I now had
been in Canada for two decades, did I have the answers to the woman’s
questions? As an immigrant, a former Canadian public-school student,
and now a parent living in Canada with my own children attending public
schools, did I know how to resolve such conflicts in my own home? Such
thoughts provoked my interest in exploring the experiences and percep-
tions of Arab immigrant students. And at that point, I was convinced that
I needed to find the answers by learning more about the different stories
of other Arab immigrants. I thought to myself, “How much do we know
about what these newcomer immigrant students experience? How effec-
tive can our efforts, as educators, be without knowing what these students
themselves feel and think?” I wondered what approaches could be used to
incorporate the well-intentioned efforts of such dedicated educators, and
how these educators could best be informed to help them in assisting
newcomer students. (Diary excerpts—Research text, December 16, 2012)

Windsor, ON Nesreen Elkord

 Acknowledgments

First and foremost, all praise is due to God, the most gracious and most
merciful for giving me the patience and perseverance to complete this
research and academic journey. I then give everlasting thanks to my hus-
band, Wessam Haggag, my children, Faris, Sufyan, and Samia, and my
loving parents, who have all stood by my side patiently and supportively as
I learned and wrote each day throughout this journey.
I wish to extend my thanks to Professor Shijing Xu who has showed me
the path to a new life. As the Arabic saying goes, “I am grateful to my
parents for giving me life, and I am grateful to my mentors for giving me
a new life.” I will forever be grateful to Dr. Xu for her continuous support
and guidance throughout my academic journey. Her counsel, mentoring,
support, wisdom, patience, and commitment to guiding me while watch-
ing my slow steps toward learning and understanding life in a different
light have helped me in ways beyond imagination.
My special thanks go to Professors George Zhou, Tom Najem, and
Darlene Ciuffetelli Parker for their academic support and encouragement.
Special appreciation to Dr. Elbaz-Luwisch and Dr. Connelly for their aca-
demic and professional support and help.
With great gratitude, I also wish to extend my special appreciation to
the Arab families, school principals, teachers, and supporting staff mem-
bers at the schools, who participated or got involved in my research work.
They have all taught me so much. They have helped me understand the
meaning of acceptance and appreciation of people’s similarities, differ-
ences, experiences, feelings, and thoughts. Thank you all for helping me
change, learn, and become a better person.

xvii
 Contents

1 Arab Migration—From East to West  1

Peoples of the Arab World   1
Arab-Canadians   3
A Journey in Transition Between the East and the West   3
An Inquiry Into Arab Newcomer Youths’ Cross-­Cultural
Schooling Narratives   4
Understanding Lived Experience Through Stories   6
Narrative Inquiry Fieldwork   8
School Fieldwork   9
A Road Map Through the Book’s Core Life Stories  10
Why Students from Only Specific Arab Countries?  11
References  12

2 Living the Inquiry 19

Narrative Inquiry Methodology and Modes of Thinking and
Knowing  19
Research Boundaries  20
Conceptual Framework  21
Narrative Framework Design  24
Negotiation of Entry Into Research Field—Participatory
Involvement  24
References  26

xix
xx Contents

3 Between Canada and Somalia 29

The Return of the Elmis—An Astronaut Family  29
Meeting the Elmi Family  29
Getting Acquainted  30
Visiting the Elmi Family at Home  31
Dana and Monem Start the Elmi Family  32
The Elmi Family’s Transnational Living Arrangements  33
Safa’s Elementary Schooling in Somalia  33
Safa’s High Schooling in Somalia  34
Safa’s School Troubles in Somalia  35
The Decision to Bring the Family Back to Canada  36
The Elmi Family Returns to Canada  37
Safa’s High Schooling in Canada  37
The Journey Continues  38
Working Round the Clock  39
Silence at School  40
Mathematics Nightmares!  40
Getting Support at School  42
Becoming Engaged  44
Author’s Reflections  45
Reference  46

4 In Search of Peace and Safety 47

The Hadad Family Escapes War  47
Meeting the Hadad Family  47
The Hadads’ Life in Syria  48
Basel’s Schooling in Syria  49
The Hadad Family is Forced to Leave Home  50
The Hadad Family Arrives in Canada  52
Basel’s Schooling in Canada  52
Author’s Reflections  57

5 A Life Journey 59

Deema’s Initial Struggles  59
Meeting Deema at QEHS  59
Deema’s Life Before Immigration  60
Deema’s Family Arrives in Canada  63
Author’s Reflections  69
 Contents  xxi

6 Life in Transition 71
Laura’s Persistence and Optimism  71
Meeting Laura at St. Mary’s  71
Laura’s Transitional Life Between Iraq and Syria Before
Immigration  72
Immigration to Canada  73
Author’s Reflections  84

7 Overlapping Trajectories in Newcomer Youths’ Narratives

in Spheres in Transition 85
Spheres of Experience in Transition  85
Common World: Shared Spheres  86
Growing Diversity and Changing Spheres  87
Impactful Implementation: The Insider Perspective  89
Examining the Fine Details in the Bigger Picture  91
Diversity and Reciprocal Learning  92
Through the Voice of Student Narratives: The Intersecting Spheres
of Family and Education  93
Predominant Roles of Parents  94
Fathers’ Roles in Leading the Family  95
Irreplaceable Roles of Mothers  97
Role Modeling: Educational Attainment and Cultural Ties  99
Sense of Belonging and Schooling Experience 102
References 102

8 Making Educational Meaning of Arab Immigrant Students’

Cross-Cultural High Schooling Experiences107
Three-Dimensional Life Space in Spheres in Transition 107
Curriculum as Experience in Situations 108
Schwab’s Practicality in Education 110
The Cross-Cultural Schooling Experience of Arab Youths in
Curricular Terms 110
The Learner 110
The Teacher 117
The Subject Matter 123
The Milieu 128
xxii Contents

Cross-Cultural Bridges in Spheres in Transition 137

Cultural and Educational Values 137
Multicultural Education 138
Final Words 139
References 140

I ndex147
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 CHAPTER 1

Arab Migration—From East to West

Peoples of the Arab World

Upon moving to Windsor, Ontario, in 2012, I was surprised to discover
how Arabs constitute a largely visible population. After being in Canada
for 18 years, I heard a local news broadcast in the Arabic language on
radio station CINA-FM on a September morning while driving my vehi-
cle. CINA-FM airs programming in a variety of languages, with 80% of its
daily programs in Arabic (CINA-FM 2018). At that moment, I felt pleased
and excited, and I speculated that Arabic must be a highly spoken lan-
guage in the Detroit/Windsor region. My speculation proved to be true,
as a 2011 census reported that Arabic was the most common non-official-­
language mother tongue in Windsor, Ontario (Statistics Canada 2015).
For centuries, peoples from the Arab world have referred to themselves
as “Arabs.” Since the eighteenth century, Arab peoples have been brought
together by a nationalist ideology, asserting that they are one nation
bound by common ethnicity, culture, language, identity, history, politics,
and geography. Arab nationalism has promoted the unity of Arab peoples
by celebrating the achievements of Arab civilization, language, and litera-
ture and by calling for political union across the Arab diaspora (“Arab
Nationalism” 2018; “Arab World” 2018).
In general, the word “Arab” is used throughout popular and so-called
official media—such as Wikipedia’s entry for “Arab World” (2018) and
Statistics Canada’s (2007) The Arab Community in Canada—to refer to

© The Author(s) 2019 1

N. Elkord, Cross-Cultural Schooling Experiences of Arab Newcomer
Students, Intercultural Reciprocal Learning in Chinese and Western
Education, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-14420-3_1
2 N. ELKORD

persons from the 22 North African and Middle Eastern member states of
the Arab League,1 a group of nation-states with common traditions, cus-
toms, and a single unifying language, with a total population exceeding
422 million people (“Arab World” 2018). While Arabs hold beliefs cor-
responding to three major faiths—Islam, Christianity, and Judaism—the
majority are Muslims, and though more than 90% of Arabs are Muslims
(Hayani 2014), they represent less than 20% of the Muslims of the world
(Arabic Canadian Community 2008); an estimated 15 million Arabs are
Christians, in addition to smaller but significant numbers of Druze,
Yazidis, Shabaks, and Mandaeans (Pew Research Center 2014). In sum,

Arabs, like Hispanics, are a linguistic and cultural community, not a racial or
religious group. Arabs are those who speak Arabic as their primary language
and share in the culture and history of the Arab world, which stretches from
Morocco to the Arabian Peninsula. (Wingfield 2006, p. 254)

While such data can provide a unifying definition of Arabs for the purposes
of this book, it is important to note the diversity within the Arab League
member states, given that they cover over 3.2 million square kilometers in
the Arabian Peninsula2 and straddle two continents (Africa and Asia),
stretching from the Atlantic Ocean in the west to the Arabian Sea in the
east, and from the Mediterranean Sea in the north to the Horn of Africa and
Indian Ocean in the southeast (“Arabs” 2018). Again, while people of the
Arab world are bound by ethnic, linguistic, cultural, historical, identical,
nationalist, geographical, and political ties (El-Shamy 1995; “Who Are the
Arabs?” 2015), they constitute vastly diverse communities (Nydell 2005).
Writers often use two identifying terms to identify people of the Arab
world: (1) Arabians to identify people of the Arabian Peninsula and (2)
Arabs to identify Lebanese, Syrians, Iraqis, Palestinians, Egyptians, and
North Africans (Cohen 2003). A widely used alternative to refer to citi-
zens of the Arab League member states is Arabic-speaking people. Although
the Arab Leagueʼs official language is Arabic, a number of Arab League
member states have other co-official or national languages, such as Somali,
Berber, Kurdish, Assyrian, Chaldean, and Nubian.
In short, although it would be difficult (and somewhat inaccurate) to
say that Arabs have a singular overarching tradition or share a commonly
held belief, we can identify some of the more popular beliefs and values
among Arabs of different faiths. As Al-Hazza and Bucher (2010) note,
“despite the rich array of traditions and diversity of customs, all Arabs are
held together by the common identity of being Arab” (p. 6).
 1 ARAB MIGRATION—FROM EAST TO WEST 3

Arab-Canadians
Canadian immigration rates have more than tripled over the last few
decades, with Arabic-speaking residents representing the third-largest
group of immigrants in 2001 and rising as the largest group in 2016
(Citizenship and Immigration Canada 2006, 2016). The increase in rates
of Arab newcomers to Canada in recent years has resulted in a correspond-
ing increase in the percentage of Arab students among student popula-
tions in urban schools in several Canadian cities, such as Windsor, Ontario.
However, Arab-Canadians are not a recent addition to the Canadian
mosaic, as the first wave of Arab immigration can be traced back to the late
nineteenth century (Arabic Canadian Community 2008). While Arab-­
Canadians migrated from their respective countries for many reasons,
studies indicate that most newcomers to Canada were motivated by the
desire to provide better living conditions for their children (Anisef et al.
2001; Xu 2017).

A Journey in Transition Between the East

and the West

My doctoral dissertation, from which this book expands, was titled Arab
Immigrant High School Students’ Perceptions of Their High School
Experiences in Canada: A Narrative Inquiry. My research fieldwork took
place in three urban high schools3 in Windsor, Ontario: St. Mary’s Catholic
High School (St. Maryʼs), part of the Windsor-Essex Catholic District
School Board (WECDSB), and Windsor Public High School (WPHS) and
Queen Elizabeth Public High School (QEHS), both part of the Greater
Essex County District School Board (GECDSB). WPHS was also one of
the sites in Xu and Connelly’s (2017) Canada-China Reciprocal Learning
in Teacher Education and School Education Partnership Grant Project.
Students attending both school boards are linguistically and culturally
diverse. Two GECDSB high schools (including St. Maryʼs) and WPHS
offer English as a Second Language (ESL) and English Literacy
Development (ELD) courses, in addition to some sheltered courses for
content area subjects. I saw much diversity among students at St. Maryʼs
and WPHS, and Arabic-speaking students appeared to be a visible major-
ity among non-Caucasian minorities due to the recent influx of Arab
immigrants to the region.
4 N. ELKORD

Many studies of Arab families’ acculturation and integration in Canada,

the United States, and other countries focused on challenges pertaining to
Arab children’s schooling (e.g., Abu El-Haj 2007; Khouri 2016; Kumar
et al. 2014; Majumdar 2010; Moosa et al. 2001; Samhan 1999; Sarroub
2002). Arab students face challenges at school due particularly to conflicts
arising from school communities’ distorted perceptions of, and unfamil-
iarity with, Arabic cultures and traditions (e.g., Dahya and Jenson 2015;
Guo 2015; Isik-Ercan 2015; Khouri 2016; Kumar et al. 2014; Naber
2008; Nieto 1992; Shaheen 2001). In many cases, such challenges have
been found to result in personal and social difficulties including family
conflicts, as families’ cultural values can hinder Arab students’ ability to fit
in with the mainstream school culture. Aroian et al.’s (2011) study of 240
Arab high school students in the United States, for example, found that
Arab youth are at risk for developing “anxiety, depression, hostility, delin-
quency, and other manifestations of internalizing and externalizing behav-
ior problems” (p. 996) because of disparities between Euro-American and
Arab values, which in turn result in discrimination against them.

An Inquiry Into Arab Newcomer Youths’

Cross-­Cultural Schooling Narratives
Reflecting on the questions the woman at the Dollarama store posed dur-
ing our encounter, I realized that I could identify with her uncertainty.
Despite Arab families’ varied reasons for coming to Canada, many struggle
to adjust during the first few years in their quest to “become Canadian.”
While parents continue to seek opportunities to keep their children con-
nected to their Arabic roots and traditions, they seldom succeed at getting
involved in their children’s lives at school.
My experience as a high school student in a Canadian public school in
the 1990s in Eastern Canada, combined with intensive fieldwork at several
high schools in Windsor approximately two decades later, helped me
develop an understanding of different school community discourses within
different Canadian school contexts. With my assumption that Canada—a
nation built on generosity, acceptance, and diversity—offers great oppor-
tunities and quality of life for immigrants of diverse backgrounds and for
all Canadian citizens alike, I developed a strong passion for finding ways to
bridge cultural and educational values. My inquiry into Arab newcomer
youths’ cross-cultural schooling narratives reveals schooling experience as
a journey of learning and becoming. I see school “curriculum [as] some-
 1 ARAB MIGRATION—FROM EAST TO WEST 5

thing experienced in situations” (Connelly and Clandinin 1988, p. 6), and

I focus in my inquiry on Arab youths’ perceptions of their schooling expe-
rience. While Deema, Basel, Laura, and Safa were the principal informants
in the study, Meera, Labeeb, and Bana were corroborating participants.
The assumption in the study is that to properly understand Arab new-
comer students’ schooling, it is necessary also to understand something of
their culture, hopes, and ambitions in relation to family and societal
dynamics. Therefore, I consider each youth’s narratives in the context of
family and community in their own terms, as “characterized by ongoing
and gradual development, by complexity, by embeddedness in context,
and by layering of different levels of change” (Elbaz-Luwisch 2007,
p. 367). My research does not focus on immigration and settlement issues
and challenges, or parent-school communication and engagement.
Instead, I specifically seek to explore and understand Arab newcomer stu-
dents’ beliefs and values, and what is important in their schooling, derived
from their lived experience in their journey of transition. Arab newcomer
students’ narratives about their lived experience in the Canadian school
system point to a limited understanding of Arab cultures and values, which
in turn leads to common beliefs that newcomer students need to adapt
their values and traditions in order to fit into the mainstream culture of
their schools, instead of recognizing the value and worth they add to
Canadian culture and society.
A three-dimensional narrative inquiry methodology enabled me to
study newcomer students’ past and current lived experiences, including
the cultural, social, and academic tensions they face while adapting to their
new school environments, all the while appreciating the efforts of school
communities and policy makers to support them in this regard. It also
allowed me to see the significance of the commonplaces of curriculum-­
making within any educational situation (Schwab 1973) that ultimately
may enhance resources for supporting Arab newcomer students’ adjust-
ment. By examining the students’ stories, I gained insights into the ways
cultural and educational values are communicated within Canadian high
schools in a multicultural discourse. Hence, the broad purpose and scope
of my study was narrowed down to the following specific objectives:

1. To explore, understand, and make meaning of the lived schooling

experiences of Arab newcomer students in Canadian high schools,
by focusing on understanding their perceptions of their school envi-
ronments and the existing support systems designed to help them;
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put up at his house for a time. I wonder if the originals of these
portraits will ever know that their visages adorn the walls of a
humble cottage situated in one of the remotest parts of Asia Minor.
On our way home we admired the beautiful growth of the wheat;
the plain of Erzeroum being abundantly irrigated, the harvests are
usually splendid, everything looks so green and fresh.
May 31st.—Storm clouds gathered again on the heights of the
“Palantek” this evening. We had scarcely reached the camp when
large drops began to fall and the storm came down in rolling thunder
and lashing rain. Sergy hurried me into a great coat but nevertheless
I got wet through. In an instant the whole camp, situated on a
declivity, was furrowed by the impetuous torrents, and the water
rushed in streams over the ground. When we reached the riflemen’s
camp, we dismounted and ran into Mr. Popoff’s tent for shelter until
the storm should clear away. In returning we had to go over gutters,
which was difficult on account of their being full of foaming water.
We saw a drove of cattle returning from the pasture grounds which
found itself in great trouble before a usually dry ditch transformed
for the moment into a torrent. The shepherds, mounted on donkeys,
tried by gestures and voice to force the cattle to enter the water, in
order to reach the other bank, but it was no easy matter; the cows
ended by obeying, but the donkeys resisted energetically and
nothing could be done with them.
The proprietor of the house inhabited by Eritzeff, a Persian who
was noted for his vanity, stinginess, and cowardice, was determined
to obtain a Russian decoration. He was a fearful bore to his tenant,
repeating to him at every favourable moment his desire to be useful
to the Russian government. Eritzeff lost his patience at last and
determined to play him a trick; he announced confidently to him that
he was sent on a serious mission to Bagdad and offered him to be
his interpreter; Eritzeff also warned him that he was to fit himself
suitably for that long journey. The Persian was delighted and replied
that the expenses of equipment would not be a drawback, and in
fact he delivered himself, in spite of his stinginess, to mad
prodigalities; he bought a horse, a new saddle, a white mackintosh
and a pair of yellow jack-boots. His family could not understand
whither he was starting, but submitted to Providence, and when the
day of departure arrived, they all kissed and cried over him.
A dinner for the sham-parting was given to Eritzeff in the
Mussulman monastery of Abdurakman-Kazi, after which our would-
be travellers were to start. During the meal a Cossack was to appear
and hand over to Eritzeff a counter-order of departure. Unluckily
someone had the awkwardness of revealing that plot before the
repast began, nevertheless the guests were immensely amused. In
fact, the poor Persian was such a picture to look at, equipped in his
great mantle, his seven-leagued boots, furnished with gigantic spurs
that reached well up to his calves, and armed up to the tip-top,
sword and pistols in his sash; he was literally the personification of
“Don Quixote.” The poor creature looked as if he wasn’t quite sure at
first whether he was standing on his head or on his heels, but he
soon controlled himself and bore his disappointment with serene
resignation. Trying to put a good face on the matter, he regaled
everyone with the big oranges that he had crammed into his pockets
to quench his thirst during his long journey, and calling to mind a
Persian song named, “I went in three days to Bagdad,” he said
good-humouredly. As to me I have made the trip much quicker!
This Persian was the hero of a new pleasant adventure. Last night,
returning home, he perceived at the corner of his house someone
smoking behind the fountain; only the tip of a lighted cigarette could
be seen. “Hello! who goes there?” he challenged the mysterious
smoker loudly, but got no answer. “What are you doing there behind
that fountain?” Complete silence again. “Brigands for sure!”
vociferated the valiant Persian, and dashing into his house he
returned reinforced by his servant, provided with a pistol which he
pointed at the would-be malefactor, who continued to smoke
peacefully. The fact is that there was no brigand whatever; it proved
to be simply the tip of a lighted cigarette laid down on the border of
the fountain by some nocturnal passer-by.
 June 1st.—General Lazareff has come to Erzeroum to replace
General Heimann. The Armenian inhabitants awaited him with
impatience, very proud that he was the second commander of the
main army of their own nationality. From early morning the whole
town was put into a fluster; the native women established
themselves upon their roofs at daybreak, wishing to see the new
Russian mouchir enter Erzeroum. As I also wished to be present, I
accepted readily the Gilberts’ invitation to come on their balcony
which looked out into the square where the Guards of Honour, and a
great number of officers in grand uniform, had assembled. Towards
ten o’clock we heard the clamour of hurras and soon perceived a
crowd of inhabitants coming up, followed by two hundred Cossacks
with big banners; behind them rode General Lazareff, accompanied
by a numerous suite.
June 5th.—Kirkor-Effendi Schabanian gave an evening-party to-
day. We remained in his fantastic garden, illuminated with many
coloured lanterns, till late, admiring the gorgeous costumes of his
Asiatic guests who promenaded round a marble fountain full of
goldfish. It was all like a scene from the Arabian nights.
June 9th.—This morning we have visited the mill of Kireh-Bulak,
the prettiest spot in the neighbourhood, situated in a narrow pass
about eight miles from town. We brought our luncheon with us, hard
boiled eggs, biscuits and salt in an envelope, and ate it with great
appetite in this nice, cool resting-place. Large trees grow all around
and a rapid torrent falls from high cliffs in a roaring cascade white
with foam; the noise of the mill at work sounded close by.
June 10th.—To-day a gala banquet was given at the Casino by Ali-
Effendi. The most cordial union seemed to reign between the
Russians and Mussulmans, but was it all very sincere? At the end of
the repast, when the champagne had loosened the tongues and
quickened the spirits, Maksoud-Effendi came up to the Persian
Consul, glass in hand, and proposed to drink to his health, but the
Persian, a water-drinker, like every good Mussulman, refused the
toast, at which Maksoud-Effendi took offence, and flying into a
passion, dashed the contents of his glass into the face of the
astounded Persian and vociferated with furious eyes and face
aflame: “Ah, you wouldn’t drink to my health by mere politeness,
well, do it now by mere force!” The Consul started up wiping his face
and his clothes, muttering a prayer to be purified from the stains of
wine.
June 12th.—To-day passing before the Casino, M. Gilbert
witnessed a completely unusual event. He saw a mounted Cossack
officer climbing up the steep wooden staircase leading into the
Casino; after having made a tour through all the apartments that
officer returned the same way, without having run against anyone or
anything. This equestrian prank made a strong impression upon a
group of Turks who were standing in the street, they said that only a
Cossack officer was capable of such a wild deed, because in their
opinion all the Cossacks were possessed by the schaitan (the devil).
A fancy took me to drive with Mme. Gilbert to the monastery of
Abdurakman-Kazi in an araba, a cart drawn by a pair of oxen, for
thousands of years the unchanged mode of conveyance in Turkey, a
mode of locomotion more comfortable than dignified, to be sure.
The araba was furnished with carpets and cushions, and the oxen
adorned with flowers and ribbons. I undertook to perform the part of
driver, and succeeded to put my phlegmatic bullocks into a sharp
trot.
June 20th.—Last night we visited the village of Laouk, inhabited
by Christians and Mussulmans. My husband asked a white-bearded
“imam” if the Armenians and the Turks lived on good terms with
each other, and that old Osmanlie for answer, in order to prove his
affection, tenderly embraced an Armenian priest who stood by. I
wonder if these individuals will kiss each other when the Turks have
re-entered Erzeroum!
June 22nd.—About a hundred fierce-looking men, who had
formerly belonged to the brigand band of the famous Mechrali,
assembled before our house after dinner with their chief, Temir-Aga,
who is seventy years old but still as brisk and nimble as a young
man. He had previously been chief of a band of highwaymen who
had spread terror through all Anatolia about twenty years before.
The Turkish Government could find no other means to subdue him
than to appoint him chief of one of the districts in the province of
Erzeroum. Temir-Aga profited by every available occasion to assure
my husband of his entire devotedness. Sergy sent for these men to
ascertain that they had received their soldiers’ pay regularly. They
were not pleasant men to meet in a dark lane, and are to be
watched closely all the time, in order to prevent them from troubling
the peace of the citizens.
July 4th.—There has been a conflict between a band of Kurds and
Turks about twenty miles from Erzeroum; about a dozen Kurds were
wounded and the rest of them made prisoners. Temir-Aga, who
captured these highwaymen, brought them over to my husband this
morning. I saw them advancing slowly towards our house, between
a body-guard of Turkish soldiers, with their hands fastened behind
their backs, having awfully ferocious expressions.
July 6th.—This morning we heard the welcome tidings that a
private agreement had been decided upon between Russia, England
and Prussia. God grant war won’t begin anew!
To-day, in spite of the peaceful issue of the Congress in Berlin, a
violent fighting broke out in Erzeroum between the Christian and
Mussulman street-boys. The Armenians fought energetically and
knocked down their adversaries, shouting, “Long live the Emperor of
Russia!”
Time is going on and we are still in Erzeroum, and though the
certitude that war won’t begin anew tranquillises me, still the
ignorance in which we find ourselves about the time of our
departure is very hard to bear.
The Catholic Archbishop invited us to assist at the distribution of
prizes at his school. After we were seated at the head of a long
table, the Sisters of Mercy presented to us the pupils deserving
prizes, and I had to adorn them with crowns of flowers. After that
the pupils played on the piano to us and recited French and
Armenian poetry; then the Archbishop led us into his library which
contains rare and curious books, amidst which we saw a manuscript
of the Lord’s prayer written in fifty different languages.
July 10th.—The influence which the Russians exercise on the
outward life of the Christian population is so great that the Armenian
inhabitants have decided to organise a theatre in Erzeroum, an
ignored luxury at the time of the sovereignty of the Turks. A stage
with a score of boxes has been built in a spacious cart-house; the
curtain represents an allegory of Armenia amidst a heap of ruins. In
these amateur performances all the women’s parts are played by
men.
August 1st.—According to a Turkish legend, the eclipse of the
moon proceeds from a “Flying Dragon” attempting to swallow up
that planet. In order to prevent the monster from realising his
sinister project, the native women climb on to their roofs and make
a dreadful noise with different brass instruments to frighten the
“Dragon” away, whilst the men discharge a number of musket-shots.
Yesterday, for instance, there was an eclipse, but this time the
inhabitants were strictly forbidden to shoot.
To-day an organ-grinder arrived from “San Stefano” and played
the whole evening under our windows; he was surrounded by a
throng of street-boys, who examined his instrument, completely
unknown to them, with much curiosity.
August 9th.—This afternoon we took a trip along the right shore of
the Euphrates. We came to an ancient grotto close to a basin of
mineral water, about half a mile from the best quarries of the
country. The stones drawn out of them are of various colours and
serve for the construction of houses. The echo in these crypts, which
served in former times as shelter to hermits, is remarkably sonorous.
At present the natives who go on a pilgrimage to the Mussulman
monastery of Hatcha-Vank, usually make a halt here. We sat down
on a carpet spread under an immense tree and rested in dreamy
quiet within its shade, near a big trench for irrigation filled with
foaming water. The Cossacks of our escort made a fire and roasted
potatoes in that sheltered nook, and the inhabitants of the
neighbouring village brought jugs of excellent milk, new-laid eggs
and salmon-trout that they had just caught close by. We returned
home only at nightfall.
August 15th.—A Turkish kavass came this morning to complain
that an Armenian zaptieh had insulted him and torn off his galoons.
The Armenians, dazed by their momentary success after the arrival
of General Lazareff, are very rude towards the Turkish inhabitants.
As to the sly Greeks, they assume an entirely different behaviour,
making themselves agreeable both to the Christians and
Mussulmans.
A telegram has just arrived announcing that the Russians are to
leave Erzeroum directly after the surrender of Batoum. Parleys with
Turkish authorities are going to be immediately entered upon. Oh,
what joy, joy, joy! It is almost too good to be true!
August 24th.—From to-day the Mussulmans are beginning to feast
their “Ramadan,” when they are obliged to fast till night-time. At
nine o’clock precisely, as soon as a cannon-shot has announced the
termination of fasting, which lasts again from dawn till the new
sunset, the Turks revel frantically, eating, drinking and smoking to
their heart’s content. Hamid-Bek, who is possessed with a ravenous
appetite, spends his afternoons in contemplating the citadel, and as
soon as he perceives a little smoke arise, foretelling the cannon-
shot, he rushes into his house to devour his supper, in the company
of his wives who are as famishing as himself.
The Gilberts have left Erzeroum for good this morning. I got up
very early to bid them good-bye, and saw two enormous vans
standing before their house-porch. One of these vans was to serve
as a carriage, for there are no post-chaises to be had in Erzeroum,
and the other vehicle was assigned for the luggage. When
everything was ready for starting, the Gilberts clambered into their
waggon which began to move, jolting heavily on the rough
pavement, and soon disappeared out of sight round the corner of
the street. I was awfully sad to lose the Gilberts, but the thought
that we should soon follow their example, consoled me.
August 28th.—A telegraphic message has just arrived announcing
the surrender of Batoum. The official orders of the giving up of that
town to the Turks will come to-morrow. Now we shall be able to get
away soon; I am wildly, madly happy!
I have been awakened this morning by the sounds of a loud
conversation under our windows. An Armenian merchant came to
complain that a score of Turks had forced themselves into his house
last night, and after having bound him up with strong cords, they
wanted to carry away his wife, a mere child of fifteen. This incident
gave rise to a great commotion among the Armenians; our
approaching departure terrifies them. We have not left Erzeroum yet
and the Turks have already begun to fulfil their threats. The whole
town is in excitement, all the shops are closed. I hear the toll of the
alarm-bell chiming for the assembling of the Christian inhabitants.
Just before lunch my husband was told that several thousands of
Armenians who had gathered before the dwelling of their
Metropolitan, were now advancing towards our house and we
already heard the ominous sound of treading feet and clamorous
voices in the distance. In a second I was on the balcony and the first
thing I saw was the figure of the Metropolitan making his way
through a tumultuous throng of people, closely followed by all the
members of the Town Council, in about two minutes there was a
crowd of several hundred people about our house. I heard the
roaring voices of an excited mob from below; wherever I looked I
saw a sea of anxious faces and gesticulating arms and hands. The
confusion became greater with every moment. Notwithstanding my
entreaties, Sergy came out on the balcony with the Metropolitan and
policemaster, who explained to me that this noisy crowd had come
to entreat my husband to permit them to emigrate to Russia. The
Armenians, who completely lost their heads and thought that their
end was drawing nigh, wanted to follow us to Russia and declared
they would not stir from the spot until they got a favourable answer
from my husband. I was terrified beyond words when I saw an
individual drawing a pistol out of his pocket and pointing it at us
exclaiming: “In mercy kill me, I prefer to perish from your hands
rather than be left to the mercy of the Turks!” The policemaster,
escorted by his agents, went down into the street in order to exhort
the mob to disperse, but the infuriated Armenians continued to roar
under our balcony; then Sergy addressed the crowd, persuading
them to be quiet and promising that he would not leave Erzeroum
before the Turkish army arrived, and that order would be maintained
in the town till then. These words were greeted with a wild yell of
exultation from the crowding masses, and the noise of the multitude
gradually decreased. Oh! it was a scene and an experience I shall
certainly never forget! My husband ordered the number of patrols in
the streets to be increased, and after dinner we rode through the
Turkish bazaars in order to tranquillise the affrighted Christian
inhabitants.
August 29th.—Order in town is reinstated. The merchants are
beginning to open their shops, but before luncheon a new mob has
gathered outside our house. This time the inhabitants of the
neighbouring villages have assembled to beg for permission to
emigrate to Russia, preferring rather to risk the uncertain future than
to suffer the yoke of the Turks; but Sergy had to tell them that there
was no convenient ground in our country to give them.
A rumour has spread that “Mechrali,” the famous brigand whose
daring was boundless, hearing of the Turkish occupation of
Erzeroum, hastened to come here, and is now promenading in the
streets without fear.
September 1st.—During our ride this evening I was very happy to
see our camp diminishing; the regiment of Elizabethpol has left
Erzeroum to-day, and the rest of our troops will depart in a few
days. The Greek and Armenians that we met in the streets appeared
to me greatly discouraged and very much depressed, but I remarked
that they changed their countenances instantly and looked quite
cheerful the moment they perceived a Turkish officer.
 September 5th.—Hadji-Houssein-Pasha, my husband’s successor,
has arrived this morning with his policemaster and a squadron of
“souvaris” (dragoons;) he has got orders to assist at the surrender of
the town. Ismail-Pasha has sent an express command to the
“mollahs” and other Mussulman representatives to maintain strict
order in town. Houssein-Pasha paid us an official visit in the
afternoon. He is an old man with a long white beard and rather an
inexpressive face. Out of my window I saw him approach our house
mounted on a beautiful Arab steed whose saddle sparkled with
gildings and glittered blindingly in the sun.
September 6th.—A great many Christian and Mussulman
inhabitants, who held different posts in the Russian administration of
Erzeroum, have been gratified with presents and decorated with
medals, therefore various deputations have come to take leave of
us, assuring my husband of their deep gratitude and sympathy.
September 7th.—Great animation in town to-day on account of the
arrival of Moussa-Pasha, the chief of the Turkish army in Asia-Minor.
The Russian commander of the citadel with a squadron of dragoons
and a military band has gone out to meet him as far as the Postern
of Kars. At about ten o’clock in the morning a Guard of Honour was
placed before the house of the Mouchir. We mounted on the roof of
the Turkish military school, from whence we could see the road
leading to Trebizond. We waited a long time; at last sounds of music
were heard from afar, a cloud of dust arose, and we discerned long
files of cavalry. Our dragoons rode ahead, bringing in the Turkish
commander mounted on a splendid horse and surrounded by a
numerous suite. The Turkish troops brought up the rear. As soon as
Moussa-Pasha perceived my husband he waved his hand to him
exclaiming in perfect Russian: “Your Excellency, how happy I am to
see you!” Moussa-Pasha is an aborigine of the Caucasus; he has
been educated in St. Petersburg in the Corps des Pages, and has
served a long time in the Russian army. It is only since he rose to
the rank of general, that he turned traitor and went back to the
Turkish government.
 Moussa-Pasha dismounted and came up on to our roof to give my
husband a warm greeting, holding out both hands. Then, in sight of
the whole crowd of bewildered Turks, he kissed my hand gallantly.
After having seated himself between us, the Mouchir ordered his
troops to continue their march through the town, meanwhile being
awfully nice to me; he expressed his satisfaction that I hadn’t left
Erzeroum before his arrival and told me that the rumours of my stay
in Erzeroum had reached Constantinople, and that my bravery was
held up as an example to the Turkish officers and soldiers. He also
related to me that prude, Ismail-Pasha, was highly displeased that I
rode through the streets of Erzeroum in the company of men and
with my face uncovered, pretending that it thoroughly offended the
notion of propriety in the Turkish and Armenian families. When the
infantry had passed, Moussa-Pasha took leave of us and rode off
whilst his troops continued to defile. Each battalion was preceded by
sappers, each carrying a hatchet. The Turkish soldiers had a fine
deportment and marched in good order, but their officers looked
oldish and round-shouldered. The batteries began to defile now,
followed by a regiment of “souvaris” (dragoons) in brilliant uniforms,
laid all over with red and yellow galoons. Closed arabas, occupied by
the families of the Turkish army, filed off now amidst luggage-vans.
The occupants of these harem conveyances were invisible; one of
the women having the curiosity to peep out was brutally pushed
back by a soldier. A band of dervishes, bearing the standard of the
Prophet, came galloping up, brandishing glittering swords; behind
them advanced files of Osmanlies striking up a clamorous flourish of
trumpets, beating the war-drums and blowing the war-horns. The
Mussulman schools brought up the rear carrying banners with
inscriptions out of the “Koran.” The scholars chanted verses and
sung in chorus “Lah illah, illah lah!” in high-pitched voices. They
were surrounded by a crowd of street-boys shouting them words of
welcome. These urchins who had been very much annoyed in
hearing their Armenian little comrades vociferate at every available
occasion the Russian “hurra” had their revenge now.
 It was decided that our sentinels should immediately be replaced
by Turkish soldiers. I looked at that ceremony from the balcony of
General Lazareff’s dwelling, commanding a view of the guard-house
and the public square where crowds were gathering. A Turkish patrol
soon appeared, about a dozen soldiers with an under-officer
swinging a long branch that he had just broken from a tree; but the
chief of our patrol declared that he would certainly not give up the
guard-house to such singular substitutes. The new commander of
the citadel with a detachment of soldiers arrived shortly afterwards,
and this time our soldiers presented arms to their former enemies
and resigned the place to the Turks. From henceforth Erzeroum has
become again a Turkish town!
Our last dinner in Erzeroum was interrupted by the arrival of
Houssein-Pasha, who came in full uniform to bid us good-bye,
accompanied by his policemaster. After their departure we speedily
finished our meal and started on horseback for the camp. Now, at
last, all was over with Erzeroum! We had tea in our tent, which was
pitched on the slope of a hill, and at seven o’clock we remounted
our horses and returned to Erzeroum, as guests this time; Ali-Effendi
invited us to a grand dinner that he gave in our honour. When we
approached his house, it was illuminated, and a Turkish band began
to play. Ali-Effendi came out to meet us, and offering me his arm, he
led me to the dining-room where all the Russian and Turkish
authorities were already assembled. I sat on the right of Houssein-
Pasha, who lavished compliments on me the whole time. Our host
was also most charmingly courteous and proposed to drink my
health with enthusiasm. The dinner consisted of fifteen courses and
lasted it seemed a whole eternity. We returned to our camp late in
the night, accompanied by an escort of Turkish dragoons who
carried lighted torches.
September 8th.—A tent is a poor place to spend the night in,
nevertheless I slept soundly in my narrow camp-bed. At daybreak I
was roused by the sound of trumpets and the beating of drums; the
soldiers began to stir, in great excitement, and less than a quarter of
an hour later the whole camp was broken up. Our soldiers having
burned all their useless rags by the fire, hundreds of the indigent
inhabitants of Erzeroum hurried down like birds of prey upon the
place recently occupied by our camp and searched for the remains in
the dense smoke. Meanwhile our troops drew up in a line while their
commanders took a survey of their ranks and congratulated the men
on the occasion of their return to their homes. After that public
prayers were sung; during the Te Deum the sounds of the trumpet
resounded to signal our departure.
We mounted on horseback and left Erzeroum with our troops, with
music playing and banners waving in the air. To-day is the birthday
of the Grand-Duchess Olga Fedorovna, therefore twenty-one
cannon-shots have been fired. We were already approaching the
Postern of Kars when, in the middle of a cloud of dust, a cavalcade
came into view. It was Moukhtar-Pasha who had come with a
numerous suite to see us off. Suddenly we heard the sounds of a
march, and saw a Turkish military band preceding a battalion of
Turkish soldiers, marching also in the direction of the Postern of Kars
in order to escort the departing Russian troops; they drew up in a
line on each side of the road. I was greatly impressed to see the
enemy troops, who a short time ago fought ferociously with us, now
presenting arms to the Russian commanders. There was a great
crowd of Turks round about, but the Armenian inhabitants restrained
from appearing. The Postern is left behind, the Russian and Turkish
commanders have made their adieus, and we are marching off to
Kars. Our cavalcade was very gay; we were trotting fast and soon
overtook our troops. In the afternoon we arrived at the spot where
we were to lunch in a tent pitched on the banks of a river. After
sunset, we came to Hassan-kala where we passed the night under
the roof of the chief of the district. An impromptu bed was made up
for me far too short, alas, for my long legs.
September 9th.—We continued our journey at daybreak. The chief
of the district of Kharoussan came to meet my husband on
horseback, accompanied by an escort of Kurdes. The chief of their
tribe, wishing to be agreeable to Sergy, told him how glad he was
when the new frontier was made, that his land became joined to the
Russian territory, when the land of his brothers was joined to that of
Turkey.
September 10th.—After having made a long halt at Zevine, we
overtook a large detachment of emigrants going to Kars on their way
to America. On the passage of the Saganlough we rejoined the rifle
battalion. The officers invited us to dismount and sit down to lunch
on the grass with them. When we came to Karagalis, a tiny hamlet
composed of a few cottages, the hut in which we were to pass the
night appeared so dirty and miserable to us that we preferred to
sleep in the open air, stretched on mats on the grass outside.
September 11th.—Rising early we remounted our horses. Amongst
the crowd of villagers who surrounded us we saw a great many
Armenians wearing fezzes on their heads. When one of our fellow-
travellers asked an old Armenian the reason why he wore this
Turkish head-gear instead of a cap, he replied candidly that he
wasn’t quite sure yet to what territory he was to belong, and said
that if he belonged to the Turks he would have to pay dearly for the
change of his head-covering.
We reached Kars in safety some little time before sunset, after
having been in the saddle three days, riding at the rate of 50 miles a
day, and intended to put up at the London Hotel for rest, but
General Franchini, the governor of Kars, took us off to his house. I
was tired out and unable to do anything but rest and wanted a good
sleep after our long journey. I hurried up to my room and stretched
my tired limbs in the comfort of my bed.
Kars has changed considerably since my departure to Erzeroum;
sign-boards written in Russian are to be seen everywhere, and our
language chiefly is heard in the streets.
September 18th.—From Kars to Alexandropol we travelled in a
post-chaise. General Franchini and his colleagues expressed a desire
to accompany us to the first station on horseback. On approaching
it, we were very much surprised to hear the sounds of a military
band and to see a large tent in which a farewell banquet was
served. A greater surprise still awaited us; Sergy found an address
under his table-napkin a printed order proceeding from General
Lazareff, in which he referred to my husband’s first-rate
administration of the country which had just been restored to the
Turks. During the repast we all remembered the painful moments
that we had passed during these two years of war. Thank God it’s
happily over now; all this nightmare of war done with and gone!
The first thing we did on our arrival at Alexandropol was to hire a
carriage and go and pray on the tombs of our departed friends,
victims of that terrible war. Quick! let us get out of this land of
mourning, grief and sorrow! Let us come out of the darkness and
gloom into the light again!
September 20th.—After a journey of two days we are comfortably
reinstalled in Tiflis. How delighted I am to live again in our cosy
nest, with all the luxury of civilisation round us. I do hope that the
wandering existence that we have lived since our marriage has come
to an end. My gaiety has come back to me and the world is beautiful
again, and I am just going to live and forget the privations and
dangers of the past months. All the horrors of war have vanished
like a bad dream.
November 30th.—Our stay in Tiflis, alas, did not last long. The
Grand Duke Michael, setting out to St. Petersburg, has charged
Sergy to work out projects in case of a new war with Turkey, (Oh!
horror!) and has ordered him to bring them personally to St.
Petersburg. We are leaving Tiflis in the beginning of December.
 CHAPTER XVIII
ST. PETERSBURG

We have put up at the Grand Hôtel where we feel very

comfortable. This winter I mean to lead a quiet, homely life, being
wonderfully changed after my marriage. Out of a frivolous society
girl, I have developed, thanks to Sergy, into a very domestic sort of
person. I have seen enough of the world to understand how flippant
it is, how empty—a vanity of vanities! Marriage has given me a new
view of the world altogether, I have taken off my rose-coloured
spectacles to look at life as it is, and have learned many things
which I did not know.
Russia continues to outlive troublesome times; after the war it is
the anarchist conspirators who organise inquisitions, condemn to
death, and hold themselves the office of executioners. A rumour has
spread in town that on Easter Eve there will be a repetition of St.
Bartholomew’s night, and that all the wealthy inhabitants of the city
will be massacred.
The life of our Emperor is in constant danger. An attempt to
murder him was made whilst he was taking his usual afternoon walk.
Luckily the malefactor’s bullet missed the Tzar. Petersburg is all in a
flutter through that attempt. Te Deums are sung in all the churches
and the town is decorated all over with flags. The day of the
attempt, during the performance of the opera “Life for the Tzar,” a
large audience packed the house from floor to ceiling. When the
Emperor appeared in his box, the hymn “God save the Tzar,”
resounded through the hall; the whole audience rose to their feet,
and deafening cheers were heard. Our monarch bowed graciously in
response.
 Though the Neva thawed very late this year, larks were singing,
and the sky was blue, and the whole air was full of the spring
promise. It gave me a wild desire to go abroad and fly over hill and
dale. Sergy wanted to take a two months’ leave of absence, but the
doctor that he had summoned to certify the absolute necessity of a
cure, after having given his diagnosis, said that Sergy was blessed
with excellent health. As it was absolutely necessary to find an
ailment of some kind, I had recourse to artfulness. Before the doctor
took leave, I put my head through the door and made faces behind
his back, grimacing so wildly that Sergy had to struggle with
suppressed laughter; the muscles of his face moved and his lips
twitched. “Oh, I don’t like that at all!” cried out the mystified
Æsculapius. “I see now what is the matter with you! your
overstrained nervous system calls for energetic treatment, and a
month’s holidays, at least, is the sort of physic you want. Your
ailment is overwork, pure and simple!” When the doctor left I burst
into wild laughter, and thought him the nicest physician in the world.
My scheme was thus successful, and Sergy, being ordered abroad by
the doctor to take a long rest, had obtained a six weeks’ leave of
absence.
I was tremendously pleased to visit foreign countries, and looked
forward to it with great anticipation. Quantities of pleasant things
were planned. But, alas! it had only been a sweet dream! I soon
awoke to grim reality. Quite unexpectedly Sergy was appointed chief
of the staff of the circuit of Moscow. I was greatly disappointed that
we had to give up our cherished trip abroad. It was all so sudden, so
totally unexpected, and I cried that night when I went to bed. But it
means a very brilliant future for my husband, and it would be
madness to refuse it. We have to start without delay.
 CHAPTER XIX
MOSCOW

We arrived at Moscow in the beginning of May, and settled down

for the summer months in a wing of the Petrovski Palace, situated in
a beautiful park two miles out, to wait for our apartments to be got
ready in town. This palace is a majestic building flanked with four
red-brick turrets, looking like a mediæval castle.
The summer passed quickly. It was autumn now, and yellow
leaves were falling thickly on the paths outside. The last week of
September we took up our winter quarters in town. It was great
pleasure to settle in our new home. We have bought a pair of
carriage-horses, beautiful steppers, and a pair of lovely ponies to
drive myself, sweet little pets they are.
We are leading a very happy life. Sergy keeps from me all
knowledge of the world’s misery and wrongs. I have really drawn the
great prize in life’s lottery, and am one of fortune’s favourites. There
never was a tenderer husband in the world. His one idea is to keep
every cloud out of my life. He smooths my path and clears away all
the thorns and briars. He is my protector, my guardian and my
guide. If there were more men like Sergy there would be fewer
miserable women. Sergy surrounded me with comforts and gave me
everything my heart could desire, guessing my wishes before I knew
them myself. There was nothing under the sun which he wouldn’t do
for me; I had only to reach my hand out for anything I wanted. I
was really born with the traditional silver spoon in my mouth, and I
think myself the most fortunate of human beings to have such a
husband.
For social distraction I have now but little taste, and delight in
staying at home with Sergy. My time is well filled up and my hours
are regulated as clock-work. My daily life begins early in the
morning. I usually rise at seven o’clock and am never for a moment
idle, working, reading, playing the piano and trying to keep the
house in order. I am rather new to housekeeping, it is true, but am
determined to begin it in a thorough fashion. It is not a small affair
to make myself respected by our servants. The management of that
unmanageable creature, the cook, is especially difficult; I have had
many struggles with him, and often see a sneer on his lips, but
nevertheless I have never allowed him to fleece us too much.
Sometimes I had a terrible turn for cleaning, and visitors often
caught me perched upon a chair with my sleeves rolled well above
my elbows, and my dress shielded by an apron, with a sponge in my
hand, busy washing the plants in our drawing-room.
We had to mix a little in society, and Sergy took me out
occasionally to pay formal calls, a task I particularly disliked. There
seemed to be no end of card-leaving and card-receiving. It is such a
bore going out visiting or holding a drawing-room—and this was my
only crumpled rose-leaf. I had got thoroughly tired of the vapid folly
and hypocrisy of social life, which is a daily lie, and mentally
consigned all dinner-parties and deadly “At-Homes” to perdition.
Nothing is more horrible than these “At-Home” days; it is such a
nuisance to have to be nice to people whom in the bottom of your
heart you despise, and who devote their ample leisure to passing
criticisms of no tender character on their friends behind their backs.
All these Grandes Dames of the so-called Best World are more like
mechanical dolls moving on wires, than living, feeling women. Their
lives are framed uniformly on a fixed set of rules, and their gossip is
perfectly intolerable to me. They talk either platitudes about
chiffons, or make remarks about the weather; they murmur
mechanically hospitable phrases, and then tear their guests to pieces
and mock the weak points of the very people whose hands they had
just pressed.
I have the courage to order my life independently of the
conventions which govern the existence of most women of my
position, and I want to keep myself apart from the Great World. I
am no longer fond of the pleasures and the admiration of society,
finding no interest whatever in balls, which are insipid without a little
bit of flirtation, for I can’t enjoy the actual exercise of dancing quite
irrespective of whom I dance with; and now that I am married, I
certainly will not admit any more courting. People wonder how I
manage to kill my time, hiding myself from the world in a monastic
seclusion. I am being talked about. “Mrs. This” and “Mrs. That”
disapprove of my manner of life which gives rise to comment, but I
am hopeless, and they have quite given up trying to reform me.
They boycott me now when they meet me and cut me dead, giving
me only the tips of their fingers. I pay them back in the same coin,
even more, by giving them the ends of my nails. I do not care at all
about what people say or think. Why should others busy themselves
with my affairs? I am perfectly well able to act for myself and intend
to do so now, and to always brave public opinion. It is difficult to
imagine my ranging myself among the slaves, and certainly I am not
going to permit my life to be interfered with. If my husband is
satisfied with me, it’s all right then; only we two—the rest of the
world does not count.
Sergy is occupied all day with his business, but in the evenings I
have him to myself. He is the only man for me, the rest of the
people are mere furniture. We understand each other perfectly;
Sergy never plays the domestic tyrant over me, and is ready to do
anything to please me, yielding in many respects for the sake of
peace, but he knows how to manage me, nevertheless, and is a rock
of resolution when serious things are concerned, and keeps his
ultimatum for the great occasions. He has completely changed me
from what I had been, and made me what I was to be. However, as
I have a very inflammable temper, I often make shipwrecks in a tea-
cup tempest, during which Sergy always acts like a tonic on my
temperament.
Prince Dolgorouki, the Governor General of Moscow, gave great
receptions on Sundays after mass held in his private chapel, where
the fashionable world met to stare at each other and criticise each
other. After service, the Prince invited everybody to take tea and
chocolate in his apartments adjoining the chapel. During the
reception I noticed that the over-ripe damsels, fearing to be classed
as old maids, kept apart from the married matrons. It was very
comical to see them planted stiffly on the edge of a sofa in their
virginal nook, trying to look young and waiting for future husbands
who did not come.
A new and desperate plot was hatched to assassinate the whole
Imperial Family. The winter palace has nearly been blown up by
dynamite which was to explode at a quarter past seven, during
dinner, but luckily the Court was awaiting that day the arrival of a
foreign prince, whose train was half-an-hour late, and this delay
saved the Tzar and his family.
Sergy began to be anxious for my health; finding that I was
looking rather pale, he wisely decided that I must have more
exercise and made me go out for a walk every day. Hating to do
things by halves, and wanting to prove to Sergy that I was a first-
rate walker, the idea came to me one day, whilst taking my
afternoon walk, to pay a visit to my aunt Galitzine, who lived about
three miles away. I returned home dead tired and awoke next
morning with a bad cold. I had to lie in bed with bronchitis for at
least a week to be restored to health. For company’s sake I always
took Tiger, my big Danish dog, with me in my walks, whereat he
rejoiced exceedingly, wagging his tail with violence. I had no need to
elbow the passers-by with such a companion, every one cleared the
way for us. There was much fuss with Tiger, he had to be led by a
chain at which he tore with all his might, nearly choking himself with
his collar in his desperate struggle to get free; I had to do my best
to keep his spirits within decent bounds. Sometimes he would
stretch himself full length on the pavement, and it was hard work to
make him get up without threatening him with his whip, at which he
would stumble close against my skirt, doing the penitent, with the
peculiar aspect of conscious wrong.
One day Tiger was more than ever demonstrative and nearly
upset me with his rough gambols, jumping to my face in fierce joy
and putting a cool nose against my cheek. Just at that moment we
met an old woman carrying a full pitcher of milk, much to my
quadruped’s pleasure, and Tiger, his big mouth wide open and his
pink tongue hungerly out, bounded towards her with loud barks of
delight. The poor woman, frightened to death by Tiger’s formidable
aspect, gave a violent start and dropped her jug, spilling her milk all
over the pavement; Tiger licked it up with grunts of satisfaction.
After having quenched his thirst, my agreeably animated dog
bounced around the terrified granny, frolicking round her with an
uncouth dance and yapping at her in ecstasy; he put his huge paws
over her breast and insisted upon licking her face, wagging his tail
conciliatingly. When visitors entered our saloon and we were not
there, Tiger usually stretched himself full length across the threshold
so that our visitors could not leave the room without striding over
him; Tiger did not deign to budge and allow them to pass, but set
up a most ominous growl like distant thunder, and when he was
approached, he just opened his eyes and continued to growl until we
came in and liberated the affrightened prisoners.
In the spring the unveiling of the newly built monument of
Poushkine, our great poet, took place; it was an event of
considerable importance. A requiem in honour of the dead poet was
sung on the square before the monument, covered all over with a
white wrapper. It was a curious sight; a great crowd was assembled
there. Amongst many deputations a group of young maidens arrayed
in Russian national costumes, holding garlands of roses, especially
attracted my attention. After the service ended, the military band
struck up and the statue was unveiled amongst enthusiastic cheers.
The mayor of the town invited me that same day to a grand banquet
given in honour of the son of Poushkine, who had just been
promoted to the grade of general, telling me that as an authoress I
had to take part at the festival, but I refused, giving a plausible
reason. Next day I went to a meeting of a literary committee
treating on the works of Poushkine, held in the hall of the Assembly.
On the big estrade well-known writers, and professors of the
different universities gave speeches. When Tourgeneff, our famous
old writer appeared, great cheers rose from the audience.
In May we moved to Petrovski Palace, and on the last days of
June Sergy went to review the troops at Yaroslaw. During his
absence, I was invited by my aunt, Princess Leon Galitzine, to spend
a week with her at Doubrovo, her splendid estate situated in the
government of Kalouga. I welcomed the opportunity that was
offered to me and accepted my aunt’s invitation with pleasure.
Another aunt of mine, Princess Safira Galitzine, was also going to
Doubrovo and proposed to chaperon me. On our way there, great
was my surprise to meet at one of the railway stations, Stenger, one
of my old admirers of whom I had not heard for years. We both
gave a violent start, and I uttered an exclamation of surprise:
“Where on earth did you fall from?” I asked.
My appearance nearly deprived Stenger of speech, then he took
my hand and devoured it with kisses, much to the indignation of my
aunt who was of the opinion that a married woman shares the
dignity of her husband and, like Cæsar’s wife, should be above
suspicion of even the slightest flirtation. Whilst we paced up and
down the platform, a pretty flood of eloquence rose to Stenger’s lips,
and I was aware that the constancy of his heart was as great as
ever, and that he was still my devoted servant. He said with a quiver
in his voice, looking me full in the face and nervously tormenting his
very slight moustache, that after my marriage he had been moved to
the desperate resolution to marry also; but it did not help him to
forget me, and that all these years he did his best to tear the
thought of me out of his heart and could not. But I didn’t love him,
all the difference was there. I only shrugged indifferent shoulders
and responded to his passionate eloquence with six degrees of frost.
“Fiddle-de-dee! old times are better left alone,” I replied, looking
upon his dismayed countenance with a cheerfulness which rather
hurt his feelings.
“Why do you treat me like this?” asked poor Stenger, looking very
miserable and crestfallen. Really I am afraid I’ve been rather rude, to
hurt anybody was quite contrary to my nature; I called myself a
monster of ingratitude and tried to be more friendly towards him. I
ought to be grateful indeed for he was a faithful being! Wishing,
nevertheless, to get away from my impetuous lover, I hastened into
my car. In bidding good-bye, Stenger captured my hands and
squeezed them so horribly that he left the print of my rings on my
fingers. He stood in a drooping attitude under my window, staring at
me with eyes objectionably mournful and looking the very picture of
despair. The train moved on and Stenger’s pale face was lost to
sight; life had separated us for the second time! He was completely
brushed away from my memory, and the whole episode fell away
from my mind like breath from a mirror.
The journey to Doubrovo proved to be a tedious business. We had
to leave the railway behind; a coach drive of some fifty miles
awaited us. We drove along a flat and somewhat desolate country
road. The sun grew hot and so did I. Clouds of dust pursued us, and
swarms of big flies attacked us; we chased them away with branches
cut from the trees. A drive of four hours under such conditions is a
prostrating experience!
I spent a splendid time in Doubrovo with my cousin, Nelly
Galitzine, and was sorry to leave her.
When I got back home, Sergy suggested a trip on the Volga,
which I accepted with enthusiasm. We went by train to Nijni-
Novgorod, where we had to take the steamer. We arrived at Nijni at
about seven o’clock in the morning. I hid myself in my coupé from
the military authorities who had come to greet my husband on the
platform, but was dragged from my retreat by an officer, who
insisted upon my following him into the state apartments of the
station opened for us. I was half inclined to crawl under the seat,
but there was no escape possible, and, conquering my impulse to
flee, with tangled hair and unwashed face, horribly ashamed of
myself, I had to walk with such dignity as my disordered condition
would permit between two rows of brilliant sons of Mars. General
Korevo, the chief of the division stationed at Nijni and its outskirts,
offered me his arm and led me to his carriage to drive to the pier.
We took passage on a small steamer belonging to the company of
“Caucasus and Mercury,” and steamed down the Volga from Nijni to
Kazan. In the beginning of our voyage, where the Oka flows into the
Volga, the river is in many places half a mile broad. We glided
between sandy and sterile banks. Towards evening we arrived at
Simbrisk, where we were to pass the night. A rickety old cab drove
us to the hotel creeping up the ill-paved hill of an old and dirty
street. A shabby waiter showed us into a small room with one bed
and a greasy sofa. There was a tournament of self-denial between
Sergy and me about the bed, and as neither would give in we
decided that we should toss a coin: heads, the bed—tails, the sofa.
It came tails, and the sofa fell to my lot! It was not at all a bed of
roses, and when I lay down I soon discovered that the repulsive sofa
was the property of certain highly disreputable and painfully
disagreeable insects. I tossed on my couch of torture until morning.
At eight o’clock we took the “Colorado,” an immense three-storied
vessel, replete with every luxury and convenience. The first-class
cabins opened on a spacious dining-room. There were many
passengers on board, a doleful trio amongst them, a young sad-
faced woman in the last degree of consumption travelling with her
husband and baby. The poor invalid looked wretchedly ill and
extremely nervous, her eyes were constantly filling with tears. Her
husband was full of little cares and attentions about her. Another
passenger, a lady of unpleasing appearance, more than fifty, but
dressed like a young girl, with an artificial complexion and dyed hair,
strummed all day long on the piano, which was much out of tune.
She fell upon the defenceless instrument, dashing out marches and
abominable polkas, making two false notes in every five. At last it
was decided that an appeal ad misericordiam would be made to the
noisy virtuose, and it was the captain who saved the whole company
from the much dreaded musical entertainment and undertook to
keep that peace-disturber away from the tempting instrument. He
made her understand that her performance was not approved of by
his passengers and that she had better give the piano a little rest.
After sight seeing in the town of Kazan, we were back at Nijni the
next day. In the morning Sergy went out to the camp, after which
we had dinner on board with champagne and speeches, and were
back at Moscow on the following day.
In September my husband was appointed military representative
at the celebration of the twelve hundredth anniversary of the famous
battle on the “Koulikovo Field.” We had to be separated for more
than a week. I profited by the occasion to visit my parents at Dolgik,
my dear old home. It had been arranged between us that as soon as
the festivals at Koulikovo were over, Sergy would come and join me
at Dolgik. We travelled together as far as Toula, where we separated
to go each our different ways. I found myself for the first time in my
life travelling alone, but managed, however, to get to Dolgik without
any adventure. I established myself in the train with pleasant books
and papers to amuse me on the way, and never emerged from my
compartment till the last station, which stands a few miles only from
Dolgik, where I was met on the platform by my brother, who had
come to fetch me in his carriage.
I spent such a happy week in my old country home! What a lot of
sweet reminiscences! I was in my dear little room again, in which I
recalled the old days. I saw myself as a child, a half grown-up girl
and a happy bride. The old village people hadn’t forgotten me and
seemed glad to see me; as to my parents, one can easily imagine
how happy they were to have me with them again.
Fedia, the youngest of my nephews, is such a darling, with a smile
which says, “Please love me!” One morning as he was just emerging
from a battle-royal with his nurse whilst she was coaxing him into his
clothes, she began to threaten him that if he continued to be
naughty he would be devoured by all the animals mentioned in his
favourite story-book, by the lions, tigers and wolves. Fedia, totally
unabashed, his mischievous little face peeping from under the
coverlet, burst out suddenly: “And the hippopotamus, you forget
him!”
Sergy came to meet me as it had been arranged and brought me
back to Moscow.
The director of the “Foundling Hospital” invited us to visit this
interesting establishment, one of the largest in the world, founded
by the Empress Catherine II. That huge asylum takes charge yearly
of fourteen thousand babes. Many rows of cradles fill up the vast
halls. About fifty little ones are brought here every day. The wet-
nurses, chosen with the greatest care, carry them away to their
villages afterwards, and continue to take care of them until they are
grown up. These women receive three roubles per month for each
child, who, on attaining the age of twenty, remains as workman in
the family that has given him shelter. We saw a respectable matron
who had been serving in the “Foundling Hospital” for forty years,
and whose sole duty is to give the newly-arrived babes their first
bath. The poor little things will never see their mothers again, for as
soon as they are washed they are carried away to be mixed with
thousands of other babies.
A terrible crime has just been committed at St. Petersburg. On the
first of March our beloved Emperor, Alexander II., was murdered by
the anarchists. This noblest of men has been killed by a bomb in the
streets whilst returning from a visit to the Duchess of Oldenbourg.
That day we went to a concert given by Marcella Sembrich, the
celebrated opera singer. In the middle of the performance an officer
came up to say that the Governor-General of Moscow, Prince
Dolgorouki, wished to see my husband at once. Something serious
must have happened, otherwise the Prince would not have disturbed
Sergy who promised to be back soon. But I returned home
immediately and would not go to bed before Sergy’s return. I
became very anxious at his prolonged absence and couldn’t imagine
what was keeping him so long. Eleven o’clock arrived and he had not
yet returned. I could not help being very much alarmed, and as the
minutes passed, I listened more and more anxiously for the sound of
hoofs on the pavement, but still there was no sign of my husband. It
was long past midnight when he came home in a great state of
excitement, bringing the awful news of the murder of our Tzar. A
bomb had been flung at his carriage, the back of which was torn
away. His Majesty, luckily, was not hurt, but two Cossacks of his
escort, and a boy who was passing in the street at that moment,
were severely injured. The Tzar insisted upon seeing the wounded
and approached the victims, when a second bomb was flung at him
which tore off one of his legs and shattered the other. General
Grösser, the Prefect of the Police, who always accompanied the
Emperor wherever he went, had him lifted up into his sledge and
transported His Majesty in that desperate state to the Winter Palace,
where he passed away some minutes after.
The tragic death of Alexander II. filled the world with horror. The
inhabitants of Moscow were thrilled by the news of that terrible
event; the streets are black with people in mourning, the bells in all
the churches are tolling all day long.
The murderers of our Tzar were caught and brought to trial; they
were all sentenced to death. The sole executioner existing in Russia
had been sent for from Moscow to execute them. Sophia Perovski,
the daughter of a high Russian functionary, who had participated in
the conspiracy plot, fled to Switzerland and for some time eluded her
pursuer, a political spy who had been sent to trace her. The detective
craftfully succeeded in making her fall in love with him and follow
him to the frontier, where she was arrested and brought for trial to
St. Petersburg. Not a very handsome proceeding on his part I must
say! When Sophia Perovski appeared before the tribunal, she was
told that she would be hanged if she did not denounce all her
accomplices; but she absolutely refused to divulge their names, and
exclaimed with splendid indifference, “I do not dread your gibbet, I
only dread the misfortunes which befall my beloved brethren!”
However, when the choice was given to her to be hanged or
delivered over to the mercy of her beloved brethren, she threw
herself at the Attorney’s feet, imploring him to condemn her to the
crudest punishment, but only not to give her up to the mob.
 We are living through very troublesome times. Our new Emperor,
Alexander III., receives anonymous letters with threats that he too,
will be murdered and his son, the heir to the throne, stolen and
taken away!
A secret notice was given to the police that the anarchists were
preparing to blow up the Winter Palace, which is looking now like a
fortress encircled with a rope; even generals are not permitted to
enter its enclosure.
It is an awful time altogether! Alarming rumours continue to
circulate. There is said to be a great deal of agitation in the country,
especially in the south, where there is a special hatred against the
Jews; their houses are ransacked and plundered. The peasants
begin to rebel and refuse to take oath to their new Tzar, stating that
his father’s murderers had been bribed by the Russian nobility, which
was now avenging itself for the emancipation of the peasants,
effected by Alexander II. Troops were obliged to be sent there to
settle order amongst the rebels.
Kobzeff, one of the most important anarchists, a very stylish young
man who hadn’t at all the dynamite-look on his face, gained
admittance under a false name into the most fashionable drawing-
rooms of St. Petersburg. He went afterwards to Moscow and even
forced his way into Prince Dolgorouki’s palace on pretext that he was
an engineer who had found out a new system of gas-light for the
town.
The police had been informed that a quantity of dynamite has just
been transported to one of Moscow’s railway stations. But, when
they wanted to confiscate it, the cunning anarchists disguised as
policemen, took possession in full daylight of the murderous
baggage under the very nose of the real police agents who arrived
at the station a few minutes later and found all the dynamite gone.
The irritation against the anarchists is growing from day to day;
there are often scuffles in the streets. A masculine-looking girl, with
short hair and glasses, was taken for a socialist by the wild mob,
which stamped upon her reducing her nearly to the condition of a
pancake. She had to be sent to the hospital with a bloody nose and
black eyes. About the same time a French manicurist bought a paper
from a news boy, in which the Emperor’s funeral was described.
Finding that the vendor had charged too high a price for his paper,
the Frenchman asked him, in very bad Russian, why “he took so
dear for such stuff,” meaning the sheet of paper, but unfortunately
he was understood in quite a different manner, and knocked down
and beaten so severely that he died the next day.
In the middle of June the Tzar came to Moscow to review the
troops on the “Khodinka Field.” A warning had come from abroad
telling the police to take great care of bomb-throwers during that
review, and especially to mistrust the men wearing top-hats, which
could hold engines of destruction in them. Though great precautions
had been taken, I felt awfully nervous whilst the review was going
on. Count Brevern opened the parade on horseback, surrounded by
my husband and a brilliant staff of splendidly uniformed officers who
took up their position behind the Emperor. My fear of the anarchists
did not hinder me from admiring the beautiful appearance of our
soldiers. The artillery and infantry in compact rows, and the cavalry
galloping very fast, produced an imposing spectacle. The regiments
were splendid, they all came up and passed: cavalry, infantry,
artillery, ambulance, doctors and all, with much music.
After the review the Emperor invited the chief-commanders to a
lunch at Petrovski Palace. Some of the officers of the Emperor’s suite
came to pay us a visit in the afternoon, General Skobeleff, a brilliant
celebrity, amongst them. Though he was supposed to be a woman-
hater, he gallantly kissed my hand, at which an enthusiastic lady-
visitor, who happened to be present, began to examine my hand to
see if a star had not incrusted itself on it after the kiss of such a
man, every inch a hero.
A week afterwards the Grand Duke Michael arrived to be present
at the grand manœuvres. I was on the Kodinka Field driving my pair
of ponies when the order was given to the cavalry to attack the