And so have the Pulleys.

Let’s start with Justin and Anita Pulley, back on the farm in Nizhny Novgorod. On their own YouTube channel, they turned up on Sunday with Justin showing us around the property as he herded the sheep and cows from the barn to the pasture for some exercise and food. There were also a few additional shots of Justin doing some minor construction work with one of his children watching.

Though the Feenstra house and other buildings were clearly visible, Justin didn’t mention that this wasn’t his own property until the very end of the video, when he spoke of “holding the fort here.” And even then, he failed to identify the property as the Feenstras’ Countryside Acres farm. This was just about his family.

The video closed with wife Anita in the kitchen of their cottage, prepping for dinner . . .

. . . and this parting shot of their YouTube cover:

While the Pulleys are a lovely family, they’re not the film stars the Feenstras have become, and appear somewhat shy on camera. Yet someone was obviously there to film them; whether pre-arranged by Arend Feenstra personally, or by Russian authorities in charge of propaganda, remains uncertain.

*. *. *

And just a day later, Arend and Anneesa stepped into the spotlight for their first outing back in Canada, where they were stocking up on groceries for their clan.

They were, not surprisingly, focused on comparisons: what products were available that they had missed in Russia (bacon, frozen vegetables, and chips), as well as relative prices.

As they mentally converted Canadian dollars to rubles, it seemed as though they were spending just a little more in the West . . . though they conveniently neglected to mention the disparity in average income between the two countries. Their bill came to 479 Canadian dollars (about US $348), or roughly 27,000 RR; according to Arend, their weekly grocery bill in Russia averages around 28,000 RR. So life in the workers’ paradise is not cheap. And Anneesa — typically less politically correct than her husband — allowed that they had purchased a few things that day that they would not have needed to buy “at home.”

Two things stood out during this filming. First was Arend’s difficulty in distinguishing between “we” and “they” — seemingly torn between his Canadian and Russian identities. He is trying very hard to sound like a loyal Russian resident (if not yet a citizen) . . . even saying a few words in Russian. But it appears that, after two years, the transition isn’t yet complete.

Most interesting, however, was the insertion of a well-scripted commercial: a full-blown advertisement for his new VPN service, CyberGhost VPN, complete with visuals:

Like other VPNs, Romanian-owned CyberGhost offers that all-important privacy feature. Arend did not explain why he elected to subscribe to a VPN in the first place . . . most likely because it was due, at least in part, to Russia’s recent crackdown on international social media . . . nor how he had decided on CyberGhost. And that specific VPN — which did not even make Forbes’ top-ten list — may well have been the result of an incentive, such as free service in exchange for his enthusiastic promotion. Whatever the reason, Arend Feenstra is proving himself to be a canny businessman as well as a skilled farmer.

*. *. *

So with the Feenstras safely ensconced in their native Canada, at least for the time being, we are once again able to follow them through their latest adventures . . . and hopefully to learn more about their short- and long-term future plans.

I have some thoughts of my own on that subject (of course), but I’d prefer to keep them to myself for the time being.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
12/16/25