I <3 hooliganism (Taken with Instagram)
Shchukino & Springfield-
two views, two worlds
Welcome to Moscow: Public Works Edition-
Spring has finally arrived in Moscow. I admit I had begun to have my doubts, probably because the locals claimed the first day of spring to be March 1st, which meant an extra three weeks of walking to the metro through the frozen snowy streets cursing the “spring”. All that has changed now and the city is alive and green again. In fact it has been more like an immediate transition from winter directly to summer. As it quickly warmed the trees dropped so much pollen that created a giant green cloud above the cityscape, which may or may not have actually been the results of a plant explosion, but let’s stick with pollen, it sounds much better.
Of course once the snow melts the cigarette butts, dog mines, and miscellaneous litter from the past 10 months of winter are exposed to the world. Ok, so maybe the winter only feels like 10 months, even if you missed most of it, but the Russians still managed to seed the Moscow snow banks with at least 10 months worth of butt deposits. These people know how to smoke, and at 25-70 rubles per pack I’m starting to think that I’m the one missing out. It is a habit I’ve been meaning to take up for years, but I’m just to damn lazy to do it. But I digress. The point is that there is a major mess to be dealt with when the snow melts.
One of the points of pride in the theories of the soviet system was that unlike the capitalist’s need for a competitive labor market to exploit, they would provide full employment to the population. This theory is noticeable all year round from people cleaning the sidewalks, and squegeeing the metro floors, to the babushkas watching the subway gates and toweling off the escalators. However the residue of that system becomes shockingly visible as the seasons change. It starts with the clearing of snow and ice and moves on to the clearing of trash and fallen leaves and limbs. A virtual army of workers, predominantly from southern former republics, descend upon the remnants of winter, and while never appearing to be working all that hard or efficiently, the sheer size and scope of their workforce manage to clean the city with remarkable speed. That is however only the beginning.
According to legend Grigory Potemkin erected false facades along the river banks in Crimea in the late 1700s in order to impress Catherine II. While there is debate about the level and scope of the original Potemkin Villages, the practice can be observed everywhere from the common usage of governments showing off only their cleanest and most impressive buildings and municipalities, to schools showcasing their most gifted pupils, to the practice of quickly cleaning one’s house so visitors don’t see how filthy you really are when you’re alone. The practice is flourishing today in Russia, as the full employment hordes rush to put a fresh coat of paint on anything and everything that doesn’t move. The spring may not be the best time to allow your dog to nap in the park, or he may come home looking like a green and yellow zebra.
In the US this type massive repainting project would take forever. Scraping, sanding, cleaning, and priming, not to mention the nightmare of clean up, especially if there is any lead based paint. Now just imagine how much easier it would be if you skipped every step other than the actual painting. Just slap, or more accurately slop, it on and go. After all you will likely be painting the same spot next spring. So as quickly as the leaves appear on the trees a fresh potemkin sheen covers every fence, gate, and railing in sight. Along with much of the surrounding landscape.
While no system is perfect, each has it’s own merits and deficiencies. The lack of efficiency and general environmental disregard here are hard for me to digest, but I have to admit that in a more regulated environment only a fraction of this work would get done. Don’t get me wrong the Russians , or at least the Russian government loves it’s bureaucracy, perhaps just another brilliant example of the full employment doctrine, but most of it can be easily ignored, or occasionally bypassed with the proper redistribution of one’s rubles.
One of my favorite examples is from a few weeks ago. I watched a robust crew repainting the crosswalk in front of my apartment during the middle of the day. No cones, or late night crews, instead they would paint the lines with a crude form between runs of traffic. Then quickly stepping out of the way as the cars sped over the fresh paint. Two days later the entire road was torn up for repaving, despite the fact that it seemed to be in very good condition. After painting most of the dividing lines at night over the holidays, I returned from work today to find them once again painting the same crosswalk amidst the midday traffic. Welcome to Moscow.
A few notes from the pictures above. On the bench I was surprised to see the warning sign on the wet paint, but less surprised to see it still there days later. Larisa pointed out that signs are usually not needed because Russians aren’t stupid enough to sit on wet paint. Regarding the fence I just want to point out that those paint drips are not wet, but dried like that. Hence the slap slop comment earlier. As for the third, I believe no explanation is needed.
Hot Squats IV: Moscow
Technically not a “squat”, but highly prized real estate trebuchet distance from the Kremlin and Red Square. Tucked away in the Katai Gorod neighborhood which is Russian for China Town, although there doesn’t appear to be anything Chinese about it. Anyway this well hidden spot is full of small boutiques, clubs, and class rooms. A far cry from the nearby Gum and other trappings of capitalism which now cover much of the city.
Moscow 09.03.12
Moscow Diary Entry 1:
So it’s been one month since I arrived, and I have been a bit remiss about committing my thoughts and experiences to paper, or at least to this digital equivalent. I will attempt to keep some sort of a record of my time here, and how it evolves, or how I evolve, or most likely just a mess of random ramblings.
Before I came to Moscow many people asked me about the cold conditions, and if I was crazy. Well the answer to the second question was clearly yes, but I felt that had been settled years ago. As to the first question I consistently replied that while the temperature was slightly lower and it was further north in latitude, it didn’t differ that greatly in climate from New England. Of course I was terribly wrong.
I left the unusually warm New England winter flying out of JFK in 50+ degree weather. I landed in Moscow 9 or so hours later, plus another 9 for the time difference, and stepped into a -10 degree ice box with biting humidity, causing my first breath of Russian air to freeze instantly in my lungs. Over the past moth I have come to redefine what the words frigid and colder than a well digger’s ass actually mean to me.
My job here is to teach English to Russian business people. Like the world around me it is a complete departure from anything I have done before. I admit at the start I felt a little intimidated and unprepared. I had completed a course certifying me as a bona fide TESOL instructor, and I had been speaking, or incoherently mumbling in some people’s opinion, English for most of 38 years. So I had that going for me.
My employer in Moscow did not seem the least bit worried about my lack of experience. Their clients on the other hand may have had other ideas though, so my CV was slightly amended to make it more palatable to the prospective clients. Merely a slight tweak here and there, and apparently I had been teaching in Moscow since 2010. “Welcome to Russia” I was told. A phrase I would here over and over again. The closest English translations being either, “don’t count on anything to work as you might expect”, or “you’re not in Kansas anymore Dorothy”.
The language barrier just added to the adventure. I can understand and use many of the most important Russian words, and I can ask for what I need and get around. I am also blessed with a lovely guide/translator/girlfriend. Anything beyond the basics though just sails right over my head, which makes it much easier to ignore people in the subway. The subway is whole other topic which I will focus on in more detail later. For now I will say that while it seems that Moscow is generally a chaotic and confusing mess, the Moscow Metro may be the most reliable system I have ever encountered, and the stations are lovely, but more on that later.
Yesterday was International Women’s Day, which apparently is only celebrated in Russia and the former Soviet republics. If however members of the flower and chocolate lobbies got wind of it I’m sure they would join hands with NOW and Hallmark and jam it though congress in no time flat. I have never seen so many flowers in my life. Valentines day in the US doesn’t even come close, and it’s a full two day national holiday. The same amount of time most people get off work for Thanksgiving or Christmas, but in reality it is probably a much more worthy cause celebrating then either of those boondoggles.
The true brilliance of Women’s Day is it’s placement two weeks after Men’s Day. Formerly know as Protectors of the Motherland Day, it was a day to thank all the men who served in the military protecting the motherland, which for the first half of the 20th century was all the men. Now though with the lack of large wars and the tendency to avoid military service, but no desire to give up a perfectly good holiday, it has morphed into Men’s Day. A national one day holiday, which by the smell of the subway starts at some point early on during the day prior. It involves thanking or congratulating men and drinking slightly more than usual. My point being that any misbehavior perpetrated on Men’s day is fresh in the “memory” when Women’s Day rolls around, and hence ups the ante in the flowers and chocolate showering.
Oh and one more thing, apparently they believe that spring starts on the first of March here. Why? I don’t know. It is not as if the trees are budding, or the birds are singing, or that there are any other signs of a seasonal change except that it is getting lighter later, so now I can now see my breath until almost 20:00 (8 PM). Ok so I can see my breath in the dark as well, but I can’t come up with any better rationalisation as of yet. There is much more to talk about, but all in good time. Check back later for updates on subways, vodka, fraudulent elections, non-vodka based culture,bears, etc… just kidding I haven’t seen any bears yet, unfortunately.
Hot Squats III- Szimpla Kert, Budapest, Hungary
Kert means garden or courtyard in Hungarian. There are a bunch of these semi-legal beer gardens throughout the city, mainly on the Pest side. Szimpla is the most established and well known of the kerts.
Hot Squats II
Metelkova- Ljubljana, Slovenia. An autonomous social center located in pristine Ljubljana. Former military baracks have been transformed into a hub of bars, clubs, and galleries. The adjacent prison is now a hostel, I stayed there.
