Yaroslav Pisarenko: One day I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and realized I couldn't live like this anymore

In Dima Nikanovich and Nikita Naidyonov's music video «Lyatsits znou» (Flies Again), Yaroslav looks like a Hollywood star. In recent years, he has lost over 10 kilograms, built up his biceps, and quit smoking. Is it easy for a political refugee in forced emigration to look like Statham?

The hardest part, Yaroslav says, was moving from place to place. He left Belarus in the summer of 2021, with a backpack and a bag. In 2022, he moved from Ukraine to Poland. And each time, he started anew.

— As for the Hollywood star, in 2023 I had depressive times. I started to slightly abuse alcohol, sliding more and more into parties, bars, and so on.

One day I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and realized I couldn't live like this anymore. Because I was sliding to where I really didn't want to be. I added sports, proper nutrition, and reduced alcohol to a minimum.

I never smoked my whole life, until I was 25, and then I started in 2020. I realized I was smoking more than a pack a day; it was a certain psychological barrier. And now it's been four months since I quit. I used to think I'd quit smoking when I returned to Belarus. But then I realized I needed to think about myself here and now.

I started taking better care of myself, not thinking about how I can't change anything and how unfair the world is (these thoughts lead nowhere good), but rather how I can make my environment, myself, my girlfriend, and friends happier. And how to do more good for the viewers of our channel.

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— You and Aliaksandr Ivulin were detained 5 years ago. What do you remember about that time today?

— So many different events are happening in the world and in life right now that I somehow caught myself thinking that I don't even have time to process these moments. Because there's a high density of various phenomena.

Five years ago... It was not just a past life, but several lives ago. Of course, I remember those moments well, thinking about how incredibly brave I was (smiles). Like many others back then. Because now, looking back at the country and how everything is being scorched with napalm there, at that moment it seemed that nothing terrible would happen to us. Even though the plane with Protasevich had already been landed, it was clear that severe purges would begin.

But in my head, it was: no, no way, we live on, everything's fine. There was a certain kind of courage, even when I was detained.

Now I understand: I was very lucky not to go through this whole terrible system completely, for years or months. Just 15 days, as we now understand, is nothing.

— It seems the scariest thing there is the thought that you might not get out. Do you have any advice on how to behave there, as Belarusians continue to end up behind bars today?

— As they said in the film «Schindler's List», the scariest thing is that there are no rules. There's no guarantee that if you behave a certain way, everything will be okay. Unfortunately, you might get lucky, or you might not.

I saw different people there, both those who were in despair, crying, panicking. Saying, 'How so, why am I here, I didn't even do anything!'

And there were people who just sat, discussing cars or football. For many, consciousness begins to build a conditional wall, simply to protect themselves, not to think about a possible sentence. And that's a very good thing when you can't influence the situation you've found yourself in.

Yaroslav recalls that in 2021, people in the prison system were diverse.

— There was a guy, everyone called him Balaclava because he always wore one. He might bring us soap or toilet paper. But if you tell another that we have one small sliver of soap for 20 adult men, you'll hear: 'It's nothing! You'll manage anyway.'

There were those who mocked, and some who just lived in another universe altogether. I remember when I was in the police department, an investigator asked: 'Will you go for days [in detention] or a fine?' And then his colleague ran in and advised: 'Oh, no, the fine is big, you'll still have to pay money! Better for days...'

Павялічыць

— Why did you go to work for STB, and did the black mark «BT journalist» often hinder you?

— I entered the journalism faculty in 2012, and started working for STB in 2014. At the time of Square-2010, I was 15 years old. It so happened that my environment was very apolitical. I didn't ask myself too many questions.

Already at the journalism faculty, I started to understand more. I ended up at STB by chance, because they were looking for someone, and I knew about sports. It seemed like a good stepping stone, and afterwards I would be able to pick up speed and do my own project.

It seems I never did anything I would be ashamed of. There were cringe-worthy things like hockey tournaments, but I didn't deceive people. I did my job as best I could.

I was never treated as a BT or STB person. I had many friends who worked for TUT.BY and other independent media. I could easily go to the 'Ў' gallery for a meeting with Sasha Filipenko.

But there were jokes. I have a friend who, when I worked on TV, liked to tease me by naming my contact in his phone 'propaganda screw'.

— You say «I did my job, didn't deceive anyone», and I think many people at BT today think the same. Especially since you are a sports journalist, you could have quietly continued working in 2020. What was the last straw?

— Violence. That's a red line, something I absolutely cannot accept. When the strong raise a hand against the weak. I just start to tremble when I see moments of such obvious injustice.

I can watch boxing or box myself, that's okay when two people go for a sparring match. But when a woman or a young person is walking, and a guy with a bat flies up to them and starts hitting, that's beyond human.

You know, even those election results, the falsifications, even if I, as a citizen of Belarus, was deceived, for me that probably wouldn't have been a reason to go out somewhere. But when I saw such violence, that was immediately the first and last straw.

— Is this about learned helplessness? About how over decades we supposedly got used to such a state of affairs and falsifications? But there was violence in 2010 too, Niakliaeu ended up in the hospital with terrible injuries.

— I have lived my entire life, from birth, under Lukashenka. I haven't traveled much. And regarding learned helplessness — that is 100 percent true.

I remember my first elections in 2015. I simply ignored them, didn't go anywhere, because I understood it was a waste of time.

As for 2010 and Niakliaeu's terrible injuries, back then it seemed like there was a feeling that he was going against the authorities, so he should have understood the possible consequences. It sounds mediocre, but at 15, it seemed logical to me.

In 2020, it was a different story, because people who had not chosen such a path for themselves got caught up in it.

I went out for the first time when Babaryka was arrested; that also outraged me. It's a very subtle point, because in 2020 it affected things like never before.

In fact, in 2020 and now, we are still learning. No one knows what is right.

Павялічыць

We are supposedly such a young country, and supposedly this independence came to us so easily. But independence is never easy. There are always those who go out and lose something. And those who will say: «Oh, come on! Just sit quietly, you have a salary, an apartment, and a Chinese car. What else do you need?»

This story gives me hope that there are a lot of great people inside Belarus. And the fact that they de facto work for state-owned enterprises doesn't automatically make them bad.

That's why I see my mission (perhaps that word is too much) in simply creating interesting content in Belarusian, which tens of thousands of people watch, specifically inside Belarus. And that's cool, because it seems to me that these people share my values. It's very difficult to believe in people in these times, but I try to do it.

Yaroslav says that there were indeed compromises in his work at BT, specifically regarding the Christmas hockey tournament. But at the same time, he could edit Sasha Ivulin's segments when he was just starting out. Because his reports from Minsk Arena were also there.

— It seemed normal to me, like a balance, because I had the freedom to edit such a video that people would watch on YouTube. It was as if there was an agreement that once a year you might be pulled into this, but the rest of the time I would do what I wanted.

I think growing beyond oneself is perfectly normal. Because a person is not a monument.

The main thing is self-belief, not the idea that someone will come and change something. And something will definitely happen. Because I remember sitting in Akrestsina, where the lights are always on. But one evening they went out. It felt like it was all over Akrestsina. This was in the summer of 2021, and there was some meeting between Biden and Putin then.

We were sitting in the cell then and joking that if they decided to put Lukashenka in his place, then everything would definitely be okay for us (laughs). Akrestsina is blacked out, and now we're getting out. That is, there was a feeling that someone should come and save us, help us.

Now there's a feeling that nobody needs us, and nobody will fight for us except ourselves. But there's also a feeling that we actually can do something. We can achieve our own happiness.

Павялічыць

Last year, it was very pleasant for me to observe the presidential campaign in Poland. I watched those debates like Netflix. You witness how true freedom happens. That views can be marginal, but nevertheless, the authorities must consider everyone. For my Belarusian understanding, it was quite difficult to grasp at first, but it's great. People go to protests, rallies, and it's normal; people aren't arrested, they aren't threatened.

Yaroslav says he was very indignant when Mikalai Ivanavich Kazeka died and people from various state institutions were forbidden from coming to say goodbye to the man.

— What would a simple guy from Orsha, who dreamed of a football career but became a sports journalist, have thought if he had known what would happen to him in the last six years?

— I think he generally wouldn't have understood what was happening, due to his age. But, I think he still would have respected it. Because it's something, it seems to me, understandable at any age: when you don't accept violence and injustice and you do something about it. Regardless of how your fate turned out, and what everyone lost as a result.

But still, there's a lot of positivity now. For the World Cup final, we gathered over 400 people who came to see me and Sasha. To watch football with us, to chat. For me, that's worth a lot. These weren't just people who came because they were told to, like for a Christmas tournament: 'You must come.' But because they wanted to and bought tickets.

Yaroslav knows Ukrainian well because he used to visit his grandmother in Ukraine since childhood. So, even after leaving Belarus, and even after the war started, he wanted to stay in Ukraine. But it didn't work out.

Reflecting on the events of 2020, he says that in recent years Belarusians are undoubtedly restrained: they cannot express what they think directly to one's face.

— Because if they express it, they'll go to prison. That's why they are forced, metaphorically speaking, to put manure under doors and set it on fire. This partisan warfare, as always with Belarusians in difficult times (smiles).

Do what you can, with what you have, as best as you know how. Do the unexpected, that's how you'll win. In other words, you need to strive to be a good person.

Павялічыць

Even if it turns out we never return to Belarus, you simply won't have a reason to think that you lived a bad or unsatisfactory life. And if we do return, it will be a celebration, of course, it will be a celebration and it will be awesome!

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