Sergei, a 27-year-old data analyst from Moscow, has been sensing dread in Russia for months. 

“In the last few months there was a feeling that everything was bad, but that you could still live. It was very uncomfortable, but there were close friends, work, some kind of a life that helped you withstand the stress,” he said. 

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was the breaking point.

“When I learned that the war had begun, I realized that life would not be the same and that something had to be done. But it was not clear what. A whole way of life has been destroyed, people will lose their jobs, sanctions, repression,” Sergei said.

Like countless thousands of his Russian peers, Sergei has fled his country over fears of mounting repression. The bulk of these newly minted emigres have headed for places like Armenia, Georgia, and Turkey. 

Sergei, who asked for his real name not to be used, chose Kyrgyzstan, the country where he spent some of his childhood. 

He made the decision to leave on March 3. By the following evening he was on a flight to Bishkek. Sergei told Eurasianet that he doesn’t know how long he will stay in Kyrgyzstan, but that in Russia he felt haunted by a “feeling of a lack of freedom.” The U.S.-based IT company where Sergei worked closed Russian office on March 5 and put all its local staff on leave. 

The appeal of Kyrgyzstan for Russian nationals is that they can travel there without needing a visa or even an international passport. A regular ID card is accepted by passport control. 

Anastasia Inopina, a 26-year-old Moscow-based journalist and feminist activist, told Eurasianet that the point of no-return came on March 2, as rumors began circulating that Russia might impose martial law. (That has not happened so far). Within a couple of days, Inopina, her partner and a female friend had packed their bags and traveled out to Kyrgyzstan. 

“We were not only fleeing from repression, but also from rapid impoverishment. Of course, this will also affect Kyrgyzstan, but it will come later. For us, this is an attempt to get a head start,” Inopina said.

Ahead of the trip, Inopina and her traveling companions wiped their laptops and phones of any information that could potentially be deemed compromising if checked by Russian border guards. 

“We are glad that we left right away, because we are hearing more and more terrible stories about interrogations over there. At the moment, we are just trying to get away from stress and do something other than doomscrolling,” she said.

Inopina said she chose Kyrgyzstan because of her positive experience of the country while attending a feminist conference there in 2019.

“I fell in love with this country then and dreamed of returning and showing it off to my friends. I would have preferred to do it under other circumstances, of course,” she said.

Inopina said she will now apply for a passport at the Russian consulate in Bishkek and then consider where to relocate further.

The droves of Russian emigres escaping their country are strongly represented by workers in the IT industry. 

Governments in Central Asia are now working to capitalize on that trend. This week, Uzbekistan revealed that it was poised to begin issuing expedited work visas and residence permits for foreign investors in the IT industry. One official in Kyrgyzstan has told Eurasianet that the government in Bishkek is exploring a similar idea.

Groups on the Telegram messaging app have been mushrooming in recent weeks as new arrivals exchange tips on how to navigate the bureaucracy of settling down in Kyrgyzstan or just offering recommendations on where to hang out.   

This sudden influx of Russians seeking places to live has sparked some bitter online humor about how the tables have turned. It has historically not been uncommon for property-owners in Russia to include a note in rental ads specifying that only people of a “Slavic appearance” should apply – a clear warning to migrant laborers to refrain from doing so. 

“Apartments only rented to Kyrgyz,” quipped a Twitter user, one of many to make the same joke in recent weeks.

The rush to fly to Kyrgyzstan is complicating life for migrant laborers wanting to return home, however. The number of companies offering flights on a reliable schedule has shrunk as a result of international sanctions against Russia. Intense demand, currency fluctuations and sporadic availability of flights has caused prices to surge. 

Nina Chervinskaya, an employee of an air ticket office in Bishkek, told RFE/RL’s Kyrgyz service that tickets from Moscow to Bishkek, which previously cost the equivalent of $230, have gone up to $390. 

“A Bishkek-Moscow-Bishkek round-trip costs $730. Most people leave as soon as they find out the price. We hope that the high cost is a temporary phenomenon,” Chervinskaya said. 

Even more grimly, the cost of returning the bodies of migrants who have died in Russia has more than tripled, as one lawmaker, Adakhan Madumarov, said in parliament.

“If previously, the transportation of a body, including funeral services and a ticket for an accompanying person, cost about 40,000 rubles, the cost is now 150,000 rubles. Due to the difficulty with dispatching the deceased, the bodies of compatriots are lying in the morgue for six to seven days,” Madumarov said.