In the 1979-80s the Soviet government encouraged workers to move to the Western Siberia, by paying them double and sometimes triple wages. When I came there, it looked like a country of immigrants, with the first settlers enduring the biggest hardship. Many came from Ukraine. There was a large number of people of the various ethnic groups from the Caucasus Mountains.
And, of course, Siberia being the land of prison camps, many ex-convicts who had nowhere to go upon their release, stayed and worked in these oil towns. When my next-door neighbor in the barrack found out that I was a visual artist, he immediately offered me partnership in forging passports and other documents because he had plenty of potential clients. When I refused he called me a sissy and never spoke to me again.