While snow pelted Denver, aspiring Russian bards huddled
recently in a borrowed conference room, where visiting folksinger
Vladimir Berezhkov serenaded them with tales of life in the shadow
of the Kremlin.

Similarly, 6-year-old Maria Valershteyn hunkered over
Russian language texts this past year to supplement her Denver
Public Schools studies.

And every Saturday morning, Russian-speaking parents hustle
children to the Glendale Community Center for lessons in
traditional dancing.

“We want to keep our culture,” says Lyuda Zatureuskaya, who
supervises the lessons. “We are from a rich culture.”

That preoccupation eclipses today’s election in Russia for
many of the estimated 25,000 Russian-speaking people in Denver.
They form one of the fastest-growing and, by many accounts, most
prosperous communities of recent immigrants from the former Soviet
Union. The United States has admitted more than 450,000 since
communism’s collapse.

Their accents suggest they might well be engrossed in the
fate of President Vladimir Putin as voting begins across Russia
this morning. Yet Putin – a hard-liner who took charge when Boris
Yeltsin resigned New Year’s Eve – draws lukewarm attention at best.

“For me, American politics is a lot more important,” said
Yuliya Fridman, 24, a US West employee whose family moved from
Minsk in 1991. “This is where I live. This is where I plan to have
my family. I do care about what’s going on in Russia. But I’m
planning to make my life here.”

Rather, Russian-speaking immigrants focus on establishing
cultural institutions in Denver.

They’ve set up two Russian schools that teach children
traditions from music to chess.

An association of 11 clubs draws hundreds of adults for
discussions, concerts, fitness activities and poetry.

Grocery stores such as Dmitri Gershengorin’s European Mart on
Leetsdale Drive supply Russian sausages, pastries, smoked fish,
salads – and Russian videos for rent.

The Denver-based Moscow String Quartet plays classical music
that many immigrants love.

A Russian Orthodox Church at South Colorado Boulevard and
East Iliff Avenue is one of several where Russian-speaking
immigrants worship.

Their cultivation of Russian-ness while sinking roots here
stands out at a time when other immigrants use the United States
simply as a money-making center for building a better life
elsewhere.

Russian poetry in Denver trumps politics in Russia in the
view of Moscow-born Will Kaufman, 35, a member of the Russian Bard
club here and a successful computer programmer. “I am very cynical
about Russia, very cynical about this war in Chechnya.” Kaufman
called today’s elections “a travesty” masking control of Russia by
wealthy oligarchs.

Many Russians here won’t vote for lack of interest, said
Leonid Reznikov, a researcher at the University of Colorado Health
Sciences Center who also edits the Russian newspaper Horizon.
Reznikov presented election information in Horizon. He also
advised Russian consular officials who plan to supervise absentee
voting today at the Glendale Public Library. About 200 Russian
immigrants with passports voted in Russia’s parliamentary election
last fall.

“I believe some people may come to support Grigory Yavlinsky
(one of 11 candidates challenging Putin),” Reznikov said. “But
there is no real choice. Putin will win anyway. Hopefully he will
not bring a real dictatorship to Russia. It may be a soft
dictatorship. We already have some signs that censorship is
starting in the Russian press.”

In Denver, the Russian-speaking community emerged in the late
1970s with the arrival of a few Jewish dissidents. It took off
around 1991 as the Soviet Union collapsed.

Nationwide, at least 454,628 immigrants have arrived from
former Soviet countries since 1990, according to federal
statistics. Of those, about 372,335 entered as refugees. The
United States gives special priority to Jews and evangelical
Christians in ex-Soviet countries who claim they face persecution.

Thousands more migrated to the United States for economic
opportunities or as spouses of previous immigrants. And the
454,628 figure doesn’t include a growing number of
Russian-speaking temporary workers.

The emphasis on sinking roots in America, rather than
investing earnings back home, reflects that “things have not gone
as smoothly as they might have in the countries they came from,”
said Terry Rusch, director of refugee admissions for the U.S.
Department of State. “Overall, it’s been a very positive
experience. They’ve come, they’ve enriched this country.”

Economically, Russian speakers in Denver say they are getting
ahead. The elderly rely heavily on public support. But working-age
immigrants find their solid education in Russia pays off here.
More than 44 businesses run by Russian-speaking immigrants
advertise in the Denver-based newspapers Horizon and Vestnik.

Businesses here include a crew of carpenters, Vartan
Tonoian’s jazz club “Vartan’s” in Downtown Denver, the Astoria
restaurant serving borscht, chicken Kiev, plove (a rice and meat
dish from central Asia) and more, a pharmacy in Cherry Creek
North, two Russian bookstores, and Little Russian Cafes.

Russian speakers in Denver often say they are lonely. They
say they need to cultivate a distinct identity in America.

Parents lament that their children, who tend to hang out with
other Russian-speaking children, converse predominantly in
English.

“People miss the closeness they had in Russia – closeness
with friends sitting at the kitchen table drinking vodka talking
about anything at all,” Kaufman said while handling a computer job
last week. “Here their relations with Americans at work and with
neighbors are very superficial. “How’s work? How’s the weather?’
Their soul yearns for some sort of really close contact.”

The main challenge now is just finding some place to meet.
Community leaders talk of raising money for a Russian Cultural
Center.

Until now, Russian speakers have borrowed rooms for club
gatherings. The Glendale Public Library, with Russian-speaking
staffers, serves as an unofficial center.

Occasionally, Jewish Community Center auditoriums are
available.

“We need it,” school director Zatureuskaya said of the
proposed cultural center. Enrollment at her Science, Art and Sport
Center for Children has doubled over the past three years to 150
students. They range from 6-year-old girls in ballet attire to a
sheepish 15-year-old boy who wasn’t inclined to give his name
after practicing for a recent dance performance. “Half of it, my
parents make me come,” he said. “Half of it is fun.”

Former actress Inna Valershteyn is passionate about ensuring
that her 6-year-old daughter, Maria, studies Russian in addition
to Denver Public Schools classes. In the family Volvo, she drives
Maria to private classes with Olga Sventuh at a rented facility.
“I don’t want to lose this language,” Valershteyn said. “If a
child has more than one language, it makes life richer.”

Political freedom here enables activity that once proved
risky in Russia. For example, free-thinking bards raised
suspicions during Soviet times. The Russian bard tradition
involves composing poems, then singing them while playing guitar –
a bit like Bob Dylan. The bards gather in forests to do this.
Last summer, club leaders booked space for 40 at a campground west
of Denver. More than 70 aspiring bards arrived, setting up tents
beneath pine trees, tuning guitars, sipping wine. They sang out
their poetry until dawn. Coordinating all these cultural
gatherings on top of fast-paced U.S. work schedules is a difficult
job. But the Russian-speaking community found a solution: Mikhail
Timashpolsky, 76, president of the Denver Russian Community
Cultural Center, who once ran government cultural “palaces” in
Russia. A pensioner with time to make phone calls, Timashpolsky
devotes most of his waking hours to keeping his countrymen together.

“In the former Soviet Union, people were going for community,
rather than individuality,” he said. “That’s why, when
Russian-speaking people come here, they still have this desire to
be in a community. Many feel they have no outlet for their
creativity. These people, they want to preserve their culture and
knowledge.”