Roman Pazensky turns heads when he enters a room. First, because people see a man using a wheelchair. Then, because they see he is without arms and legs.
“I’m a normal man,” Pazensky says, “but they don’t see that right away.”
The looks that children give him are even more intrusive. When the Taipei Times spoke to Pazensky, 36, in Taichung last month, he was interacting with a group of young swimmers.
Photo courtesy of Julia Startchenko
Baring their curiosity, the kids peppered Pazensky with questions: “Can you jump? Can you walk? Can you dance? Can you swim?”
Flashing his easygoing smile, Pazensky turned their probing questions into a teachable moment.
“I showed them I could swim. I jumped right in the pool,” he says.
Photo courtesy of Julia Startchenko
Pazensky, an exchange student at Tamkang University in New Taipei City, wants to spread the message of staying positive and believing in yourself.
But the Russian native wasn’t always so upbeat and confident.
CLIMBING AGAINST THE ODDS
In 2008, Pazensky was involved in a mountaineering accident that left him fighting for his life in the bitter cold. While he survived the ordeal, doctors were forced to amputate all four of his limbs.
For the next four years, Pazensky secluded himself in his parents’ farmhouse about 200km from the port city of Vladivostok in Russia’s Far East. As Pazensky’s muscles, which had been forged through running and biking, gradually atrophied, his thoughts darkened.
With limited accessibility for the disabled in rural Russia, it was impossible for him just to ride the bus or the train.
“I watched a lot of TV and read some books, but I didn’t believe in myself,” he says.
Feeling helpless, Pazensky even considered suicide.
“But I couldn’t even do that,” Pazensky said.
These days, Pazensky tries to focus on the future, putting pragmatism ahead of sentimentality.
“I don’t think about the past,” he says. “It isn’t useful.”
A significant step forward came four years after the accident, when Pazensky received his first set of prosthetic limbs.
The arms and legs were made of cheap plastic and two canes were still needed for stability. But the gift of mobility was life-changing nonetheless.
Naturally athletic, Pazensky quickly adjusted to the new limbs. Outings to swim in a nearby river or walk through the forest returned to him a sense of normalcy.
“I was happy for the first time,” Pazensky says.
With the added confidence came romance.
On a Russian dating Web site for people with disabilities, Pazensky met Dasha Kantemirova from Vladivostok. Despite their different upbringings — he in the country and she in the city — the two developed a long-distance relationship.
But Kantemirova’s parents were protective of their daughter, who was diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a child.
“Her parents didn’t believe I was capable of taking care of her,” Pazensky says. It took him three years to win their favor through his assiduous courtship and good grades.
Now that the relationship is stable, it has become a great source of strength for Pazensky. The gift of confidence goes both ways in their relationship.
After years of trying, Kantemirova finally convinced Pazensky to go to school and pursue his dream of studying Chinese. She taught him to believe in himself, Pazensky says, “and I showed her how smart she was and that she just needed an opportunity to show it.”
Now there is talk of marriage and kids, which would again require the support of Kantemirova’s parents.
But before that, Pazensky has set his mind on finishing school and landing a job. He will complete his studies at Tamkang University next year and return to Russia to finish his degree in Chinese at Far Eastern Federal University in Vladivostok.
“My goal is to be a Russian translator here in Taiwan,” says Pazensky, who has grown fond of Japanese beer and hot pot.
After graduating in 2020, Pazensky hopes to return — this time with his girlfriend by his side. In his view, Taiwan’s quality of life, accessibility for disabled people and inclusive education system are superior to that found in Russia.
He adds that his parents, retired farmers, worry about his future and his ability to find a job.
But Pazensky himself seems undaunted by life’s hurdles. He shows off his tenacity and his command of the Chinese language when he dispenses some sage advice: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way (有志者事竟成).”
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE
One of Pazensky’s immediate challenges is finding a language exchange partner with whom he can practice his Chinese. Pazensky says he often faces awkward excuses and empty promises from potential study partners.
“Nobody is interested in me,” Pazensky says.
But, he says, “I [haven’t given] up on finding a friend.” Instead of dwelling on his setbacks, Pazensky has developed the enviable skill of shaking off what others think of him and moving on quickly.
Another challenge that Pazensky faces is obtaining modern prosthetic limbs. While his current set is an upgrade from the first ones he received six years ago, there are still problems with mobility. Both hands are broken and stuck in one position. The left leg also lacks flexibility, making walking more difficult and increasing the chance of a fall.
New prosthetic limbs, which would allow greater speed and agility, cost about NT$4.2 million. It’s a hefty amount for a student, but Pazensky is hopeful that insurance can make the cost more manageable.
“First I need to apply with the [Russian] government, and then just maybe,” he says.
It is no wonder that Pazensky’s optimism is unflagging, given the odds he has beaten just to be here.
“You can’t predict the future,” Pazensky says. “It’s just amazing I came to Taiwan. I didn’t know it was possible.”
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