Impressions Of Russia: The Good Life
Row after row of cinder block buildings. Endless arrays of dull gray apartment houses. Grim workers trudging to and from monotonous jobs in monstrous factories. Faceless bureaucrats occupying tiny cubicles in endless office buildings. Representatives of “Big Brother” lurking in the shadows. These bleak images are, more or less, what I expected to find during my visit to Russia (which was motivated more by a desire to explore historic Russia rather than Russia of the present day).
Some of my preconceived notions were admittedly crafted years and years ago while reading George Orwell’s dystopian masterpiece, 1984, which envisions a grim totalitarian state not too far removed from that of mid 20th century Russia. Some of my somber imagery may have arisen also from reading the works of Russian dissidents Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Andrei Sakharov and others. And perhaps much of it was derived from the portraits of Russia found in Cold War fiction. But what ever their origin, my expectations of present day Russia were NOT, shall we say, terribly high.
Imagine my surprise, therefore, that upon arriving in Moscow, I could have mistaken it for…. Washington, DC.! Sure, the billboards and signs had some “backward letters” on them, but the city’s cosmopolitan “air” reminded me of nothing so much as the District of Columbia. Like DC, there were no true skyscrapers in the vicinity of the heart of government. Instead of the Capitol building there is the Kremlin. Instead of the National Mall there is Red Square. Instead of the shops of Georgetown, there is the very pretty GUM shopping mall. The word “red”, by the way, has nothing to do with color, but comes from the Russian word “krasnyi” which originally meant “beautiful”. (So “Red Square” isn’t red and isn’t “square”!) Instead of the Potomac River, there is the Moskva. And, for sightseers, the nearby Zaryadye Park has a “floating bridge” that goes partly over the Moskva River with a huge unsupported span that provides dramatic views in all directions.
I got the impression that, like DC, Moscow is, for many Russians, a domestic vacation destination, with many museums, theaters, malls, restaurants and tourism related venues. Everywhere you looked you could see many young Muscovites enjoying the good life in an urban and urbane environment. I was pleased to see many young families out and about as well.
Many of Moscow’s citizens spoke English, and were happy to converse with visitors in the English tongue. This was for the good, however, because the Russian people who have not learned English are COMPLETELY unable to communicate with us, and vice-e-versa. Unlike most of Europe, where a combination of single words together with some hand gestures enables the visitor to convey some basic ideas, Russians who don’t speak English DO NOT have a CLUE as to what the English speaking visitor is trying to convey. No matter how hard you try!
Now, granted that Moscow is Russia’s capital, and hence is likely to be a repository for considerable wealth, one still got the impression that the country was enjoying a degree of prosperity. In addition to the standard tourist venues, we did travel a bit by road into the suburbs and surrounding areas, and by boat for hundreds of miles between Moscow and Saint Petersburg, and, during those excursions, we did not see areas of abject poverty, like one might see in Appalachia, for example, or parts of the south Bronx, even. And the fact that this level of affluence has developed over essentially a single generation, results in many Russians being quite content with the way their country is run. Vladimir Putin and his administration are generally well regarded. The only criticisms I could glean from talking to locals revolved around the nepotism that Mr. Putin’s friends and supporters clearly enjoy. These friends and supporters are called, by the way, “oligarchs”.
By in large, however, it seemed that the average Russian felt no great need for political debate or discussion. Although this may be surprising for a country that, historically, was fiercely political, it, perhaps, should not surprise us too much; Russia’s political proclivities have resulted in numerous wars and decades of profound suffering. Perhaps Russians have come to abjure politics much in the same way a recovering alcoholic might abjure a drink: “No, thank you. I don’t want to go there. I KNOW where that leads!” Accordingly, I sensed that many Russians wish to leave politics up to the government, and, with family and friends, enjoy the good life they’ve been given.