Friday, December 31, 2004

С Новым Счастьем!

OK, one more card to ring in 2005, just for you, Costa.

We are singing karaoke - Vysotsky, Leningrad, Pugachova - and I rocked out with one Hendrix song. I've been told that the Year of the Rooster is to be rung in in noisy fashion, and we are doing our best.


Published by the USSR Ministry of Communications, 1969.
Artwork by V. Ponomarev.

Happy New Year!

This card is appropriate for today - a snowy New Year's Eve in Moscow. Unfortunately, it was a bit too warm for the snow to stick on the pavement downtown for more than a couple of hours, but seeing the blizzard conditions in effect during much of the day did put everyone in the holiday spirit.


Published by the USSR Ministry of Communications, 1969.
Photo by N. Rakhmanova.

No time for blogging tonight - we have an apartment full of guests with whom we'll ring in 2005, and we still haven't finished packing for our 7am flight - to a 2-week vacation in the States. It should be interesting. I keep telling myself that as long as our taxi actually shows up at 4am on Jan 1, we'll be fine...

Best wishes to all of you for health, wealth, and happiness in 2005!

Wind energy

Out Dmitrovskoe Shosse a couple weeks ago, I saw an enterprise apparently advertising wind turbines for sale. That's what the sign underneath the turbine says, anyway.



I have always been intrigued by wind energy and its apparent cleanliness and renewability.
America, the UK, Europe, and Canada all have their own Wind Energy Associations - maybe it's time for Russia to get in on the act?


Thursday, December 30, 2004

С Новым Годом!

That means "Happy New Year!" in Russian. It's pronounced "S Novym Godom!" with the first syllable accented in both words with more than one syllable. No, it's not yet January 1 here (the time difference with the US is large - 8 hours between Moscow and the East Coast - but not that large), but I have a few of these vintage holiday postcards I wanted to share, so I am getting an early start.


"Happy New Year, Dear Friends!"
Published by the USSR Ministry of Communications, 1983.
Artwork by I. Kvavadze.

Slow news day

The Moscow Times has several items today which are unintentionally amusing (the best kind of amusing), at least to me, in various ways:

1) Among the "News in Brief":

Moldova Lashes Out

CHISINAU, Moldova (AP) -- Moldovan President Vladimir Voronin said Russian troops are stationed illegally in his country and that Moscow's explanations for failing to meet a deadline to withdraw were not credible.

Voronin, in an interview with ORT-Moldova television aired Tuesday, also dismissed as "silly" Moscow's claims that separatists in the Russian-speaking breakaway province of Transdnestr were preventing their withdrawal. He said Russia has great influence over Transdnestr.
On this one, I think just the headline is amusing enough. Can you imagine Moldova actually trying to lash out?I have been planning a longer post on Moldova for some time now, because I think it's interesting how concerned pundits were about Ukraine being split in two when so little has been done to resolve Moldova having been split in two for over a decade. And now there is talk (granted, in the case of that link, by people with a clear bias) that Moldova will be the site of the next in the series of themed ("Rose," "Orange"...) revolutions.

Maybe these statements are Voronin's attempt to innoculate himself against the (valid) accusation that he tilts toward Russia. More on this later, hopefully, though not tonight for sure. Why do I care? My wife is from Moldova, I spent a summer there studying (that's when we met) five years ago, we've been back there once a year for at least two weeks ever since and have lots of friends there. So I care. And no jokes about gypsies (if you're a Russian) or trafficked women (if you're from Western Europe). Moldova gets a bad rap.

2) a two-fer - amusing that the paper would publish the fascinating but somewhat rambling (and the original in Vedomosti was longer?!) remarks of the undisputed "man of the year" - МБХ, or Khodorkovsky, of course - on the opinion page and a front-page article about the fact that his thoughts appeared in Vedomosti, which quoted entire sentences of those same remarks.

3) "
Adoptees Bring Unique Problems" - I saw this headline and assumed I was looking at the usually lame and thankfully not daily "Community" page, which typically has expat-themed lifestyle-type articles. Nope, the page was headed "News." Since when is it news that it can be problematic to adopt an infant from an underfunded orphanage in a country with epidemic alcoholism and a burgeoning AIDS crisis? Poignant story, yes. News, no. Slow news week, I am telling ya.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

More on bliny - and change

I can't leave the Teremok website alone. It is strangely fascinating to me, perhaps because I am hungry, although this is helped by looking at some of the photos on the menu page. I am sure the people paying good money to have this website set up think this looks like Gourmet-magazine-quality food porn, but I have to say that the bliny are actually more appetizing in real life than in these rather unnatural-looking pictures. Plus, you don't actually want all of the ingredients bursting out of the blin like that - makes it tough to eat standing there on the street. And (on a more personal note) the photo of the ham-and-cheese crepe shows that management does not understand that customers want the cheese melted. Or at least I do. But often it isn't, so I guess the photo reflects reality, although it's usually slightly more melty than in the photo on the website. Am I really blogging about this?

Anyway, physical hunger aside, the
"forum" section of the site gives customers hungering for a good service experience the chance to sound off, and they receive surprisingly candid responses from Teremok's management. Visitors to the site can start their own threads and, if sufficiently disgruntled, engage in debates with the company's management about, for example, their commitment to quality. My favorite thread is called СДАЧА (yes, it's in all caps on the site, meaning someone set it up that way), or CHANGE, not the kind Putin is trying to effect, but the kind you get when you've overpaid for something.

Anyone who has tried to buy just about anything in this country using cash has a story about a surprisingly surly cashier who expected you to have exact change. Sometimes if your bill is REALLY big (500 or 1000 rubles, about 18 or 36 dollars, respectively) the cashier will just tell you that you can't make the purchase, see ya later. This is always a fun survival game. The ways to win it are 1) look sufficiently apologetic and say very sad things about how you're really, really sorry you don't have change; or 2) start yelling about how you don't understand why they don't want to take your money. Since it's never clear until too late which of these methods will work in a given situation (it depends on that specific cashier's personal life, self-esteem at that moment in time, etc.), the only foolproof method is 3) try to go change your "big" bill somewhere else, usually by purchasing a pack of gum or something, since appealing to people's desire to help you out generally gets you nowhere in Moscow. It's interesting that the posts on the Teremok forum about this issue show that this irritates average Russians (OK, make that average internet-access-having Russians) also, not just spoiled, whiny expats.

I am on a roll now - I think I'll post to the Teremok forum about making the cheese more melty.

End of the Line #4 - Медведково

The north end of the orange line - Medvedkovo

"This is Medvedkovo, the end of the line. The train does not go any farther. Please vacate the train." That is an approximate translation of approximately what the recording says at the end of every metro line. There may be another line about not forgetting to take your personal belongings with you, but I can't remember for sure. This is what the result of the recording looks like:


The orange line of the Moscow metro is similar to the gray line in that the builders seemed to run out of decent names for the stations as they got to the end (see my earlier post about the Altuf'evo station for an elaboration on this, in the unlikely event you're interested). Downtown, the orange line has stations named after Turgenev and the Tretyakov Gallery, but as you get out toward the end stations got stuck with names like Sviblovo and Babushkinskaya

On the platform at Medvedkovo:


Child, tree, pigeons, and hideous apartment blocks:


The local sledding hill:


Catching air - check out the kid in the center, I was a little slow with the zoom on this one:


A militiaman (cop) watches over the open-air Medvedkovo market (with his back turned to me, of course - I am not going to risk a fine or a beat-down to make these photos more authentic - you wanna pay me, you get the beat-down-inducing shots. Let me know):

Cops like this one love the markets because there are lots of improperly documented migrants from other parts of Russia and from former Soviet republics who have cash because they are selling things at the market and therefore are able to pay bribes. Or perhaps the militia just happens to serve as this market's protection racket, or krysha (roof), as that would be called in Russian. They do, after all, provide something called "extradepartmental security" (vnevedomstvennaia okhrana) to private citizens, for a fee.

If you squint and look into the distance in the photo above (or just click on it to expand the size), you can almost make out the Evroset' mobile phone store and Jackpot (ok, Dzhekpot) slot-machine hall, which, just like the cops, stand watch over the market and wait for people's cash to come their way.


The station entrance/exit is quite Soviet - Artemiy Lebedev actually has better photos than mine capturing that aspect of the exterior.

People of the Year

I am going to recycle below my translation (recycling something that wasn't even really mine to begin with - how original) of a subtly biting Bolshoi Gorod article by Masha Gessen from earlier this year which I placed on Johnson's Russia List in October.

It seems especially appropriate in light of
Vedomosti's People of the Year picks, which will be on the front page of the December 30 issue. Vedomosti, for those of you new to the Russian media scene, is probably the most respected business daily here, it's a joint venture involving the Wall Street Journal and the Financial Times. And its people of the year are not bad picks at all:

Victor Yushchenko (do I really need to ID him, even to provincial Americans?) as Politician of the Year;

Maria Sharapova, (Wimbledon champ and the pride of Russia, even though she spent many of her formative years in the US) as Professional of the Year;

Victor Vekselberg (businessman who bought Forbes' collection of Faberge eggs and brought them back to Russia, thus - he hopes - securing immunity from having his business empire repossessed by the State) as Private Individual of the Year;

Vagit Alekperov (President of LUKOIL) as Entrepreneur of the Year;

Igor Sechin (Presidential aide and supposedly one of the powers behind the throne in the Putin administration) as Riddle of the Year;

and the unidentified victims of Beslan as Victim of the Year.

Not to be callous, but that last category is probably an only-in-Russia type of thing. The writers get in a good dig at Putin's administration in every single one of the categories, and they mention the Yukos affair a couple of times, but nevertheless they fail to identify the one individual who, along with Putin, will be most remembered when we look back at 2004, a year when Russia grasped defeat from the jaws of victory and managed to have an underperforming economy in conditions when the opposite should have been expected, all the while turning the screws tighter on free speech, free elections, and freedom in general.

Note that the article below was less enigmatic in its original publication and remains so in
Bolshoi Gorod's online archive. The unnamed "Businessman of the Year" was/is pictured alongside.
"Mikhail Kasyanov," by Masha Gessen
Bolshoi Gorod, Oct. 1, 2004, p. 6

If you were asked to name the most important politician, businessman, man of the year, the man whose face will come to mind when you tell your children about the strange and scary year of 2004, who would you name? Mikhail Kasyanov, perhaps? No? Then keep quiet.

GQ, a glossy men's monthly magazine, conducted a poll of its readers to select the "Man of the Year." As always, the magazine invited readers to vote for men in several categories, such as "Writer of the Year," "Producer of the Year," "Restaurateur of the Year," and twelve more categories, including "Businessman/politician of the Year." The person receiving the greatest amount of votes, regardless of the category in which he was nominated, was supposed to become "Man of the Year." Except -- Shhhhh!


When the head of the Conde Nast Russia publishing house, Bernd Runge, found out who the readers of GQ had chosen, he immediately had the results of the survey cancelled; that is, altered; that is, designated. The second-biggest vote-getter turned out to be Writer of the Year Boris Akunin, but the editorial board decided to display its freethinking nature and chose number three, Mikhail Kasyanov, who had also been nominated in the "Businessman/politician" category. In exchange, the publisher allowed the editors to write that one other, that is to say, another, person won in the category of "Businessman of the Year."

Runge the publisher, though a German, is well-versed in Russian realities. This is no coincidence: the 43-year-old publisher graduated from the Moscow State Institute of International Relations (MGIMO). In 1981, while still a student, Bernd Runge began to work with the Stasi. In his free time he worked as a journalist. Now he is Vice-president of Conde Nast International, in charge of its German and Russian publications. This May the two largest German magazines published revelatory articles about Runge's past work with the Stasi. The head of Conde Nast announced that he didn't care about the transgressions of a valuable colleague, all the more so as they were committed in a completely different era.

Meanwhile the editors of GQ prepared the issue in which the results of the poll were to appear. The magazine interviewed all of the winners, but as for the businessman, they wrote only that his selection wasn't for nothing, after all, his company remains influential. When the publisher saw the final layout, he understood that it was liberal. The page with the businessman's picture had to be removed in Italy, where the magazine is printed, and replaced by a page with Mikhail Kasyanov's picture.

The awards ceremony for the "People of the Year" was held on September 24. The Alexandrov Ensemble played. The master of ceremonies was Leonid Parfyonov, who was introduced as "uncompromising." He immediately said that "the main intrigue will be the announcement of the one and only hero of our days." The winners received GQ logos made of crystal and mobile phones. When the magazine’s editor-in-chief went onstage to award the "Man of the Year" prize, his hands were shaking, and he even tried to refuse the envelope containing Mikhail Kasyanov's name. It was almost as though he wanted to say altogether another name. But he didn't. He kept quiet.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Happy New Year from Teremok!

I liked this poster when I saw it on the Pushkin Square bliny stand:



Teremok bliny, or crepes, are highly recommended if you're in Moscow - you can get them as dessert, filled with jam, applesauce, or chocolate; or as a meal, filled with ham and cheese or even chicken breast, as well as caviar. Though the last of those is a classic Russian dish, I don't recommend it in this venue - it's the priciest thing on the menu by far, and who knows how long the caviar has been sitting there? Plus it's a bit silly to eat anything containing caviar on the street- get your elite bliny in a restaurant.

All of the other options, though, are delicious (well, I've never tried the one with herring, so I don't know for sure about that one, but then I am not a big herring fan). They even have a professional-looking website (linked to above). Below is an older photo (December 2, am I obsessive about dating things or what?) of Lorina enjoying steaming tea and a piping-hot blin, with more being prepared in the background, at our favorite Teremok.



The last time I tried to photograph the blin-making process, a couple of days ago, I was told by the always friendly cooks that photographing them at work was not allowed - management does not want competitors stealing the trade secrets. "Always friendly" is written with no sarcasm in this case (though sarcasm is generally to be expected when discussing the friendliness of service-sector employees in this country) - one of the cashiers even knew my regular blin order for awhile, before my tastes changed and I started ordering different things every time. They offered to come out of the kiosk (it's a trailer, actually) and be photographed, but I didn't take them up on it.

Christmas in the Metro


On the platform at the Kitai-Gorod station, 2:20pm, Dec 25.

Underground Moscow #5 - Pushka

The granddaddy of all downtown Moscow underpasses is the one underneath Pushkin Square. This was the site of one of the earlier apparent terrorist attacks in Moscow - a bombing in August of 2000. I say "apparent" because Chechen or other terrorist involvement was never conclusively proven, and the underground kiosks are a source of protection racket income for organized crime, or at least for the private security companies (singular is ChOP, or chastnoe okhrannoe predpriiatie, in Russian) that serve as legal cover for OC groups, so there was some speculation that the bombing was actually a mafia turf dispute or even an FSB operation.

In
one story about the bombing, the Moscow Times noted that "The underpass, where three metro lines converge on Tverskaya Ulitsa, is lined with kiosks selling flowers, cosmetics, CDs, books and gifts. It is one of the most popular shopping and meeting places in the city." This brings me closer to the story I hope to tell with the photos below (note that I don't have a good photo at this time of the memorial to the bombing victims - I may post one later) - not one about a bombing and people living in fear, but one about people engaging in ingenious and industrious commercial activity and creating a bustling hive of activity underneath the equally busy streets.


Descending into the underground from the direction of the
entrance to the Chekhovskaya metro station. A security
guard takes a smoke break and an elderly lady sells pine
branches to anyone feeling Christmasy (December 21).


A city worker cleaning up the underpass late at night
after all the kiosks have closed (December 19).


Looking up from one of the underpass's staircases to Pushkin
Square proper, that is to say, the patch of asphalt where
the great poet's statue actually stands (December 21).


Looking down into the underpass, on the same staircase
as in the above photo. Note the traffic cop and his little
booth, at right (December 21).


Kiosks selling telephone cards, stockings, perfume, and
leather goods (the latter two categories of items are likely
knock-offs, but who can tell the difference?) (December 18).


Kiosks selling CD's, hot pastries, and flowers (December 18).


My usual entrance to the Pushkin Square
underpass, with the ever-present flower vendor
and two teenage girls smoking and coversing on
the stairs (December 25).

Some readers have asked about the point of this "Underground Moscow" series. There are three major reasons why I find the underpasses to be deserving of special attention, and they are all rather simplistic: 1) there is nothing like the Moscow underpasses in any US city where I have ever lived or spent any appreciable amount of time, so I think there may be some curiosity value in these images for Americans who haven't been to Moscow; 2) I think the underpasses are quite photogenic, or at least provide a sort of frame for the activity within them; and 3) they are a good place to capture average Muscovites going about their daily lives without freaking them out. Secondary reasons why I bother with taking, uploading, and captioning these photos are as follows: 1) Ex-expats no longer in Moscow may be nostalgic for these places and images, and I know I will be looking back at them wistfully once I'm no longer here; 2) when it is cold and/or raining outside, it's warmer and easier on one's camera to photograph in a covered area.

If you think this series is a waste of bandwidth, let me know - that's what the comment feature is for. But for all the reasons above, I'll probably continue it - there is no limit to the amount of underpasses in this city.

More on Lichny Nomer

So I took a couple of days off (call it a Christmas break, although it was a break only from blogging - this has not been a "quiet week" at all so far) and no one noticed. Big surprise.

Anyway, an interesting commentary piece in the Moscow Times today mentioned the movie Lichny Nomer (which I blogged about a couple of weeks ago), although the columnist translates the movie's title as "Countdown" (probably the translation approved for foreign distribution, and very suitable for the plot of the movie, but not a literal translation), whereas I called it "Serial Number." The full text of the column is below, it is sufficiently complete that I don't think it requires additional comment.

Moscow Times, Tuesday, December 28, 2004. Page 8.
Surreal Politics and Economic Soap Operas, by Konstantin Sonin

Here's the plot of the new Russian blockbuster "Countdown" (Lichny Nomer): An oligarch living abroad wants to stage a fake terrorist attack in Moscow so that he can rush in and pretend to save the day. Partly out of his own ignorance, he hires real live terrorists to do the job. A major in the FSB risks his life and prevents both the fake and the real terrorist attacks, and not only in Moscow, but also in Rome.

Without denying the film's merits as an action flick, critics have already accused director Yevgeny Lavrentyev of confusing reality with fantasy. They were completely off base, however. The director knew the difference between what was going on in the film and what happens in real life. He made a film about the way things should be, not the way they are. The film inspires pride in a country that can produce strong films and in a country that dreams of having strong security forces.

It seems that action movies are the only place in Russia today where reality is clearly separate from fantasy and where actors do not confuse themselves with the roles they are playing. Sure, we have already gotten used to announcers pretending to be journalists and guys in sweaters pretending to be analysts. Yet this autumn's events in Ukraine demonstrated that live television coverage is actually one of the performing arts.

This would not be a big deal, however, if there were a director behind the televised scenes who faithfully summarized events and wrote a plotline for the average television viewer. The horrible truth is that there seem to be no faithful summaries. Statements by Russian representatives during the course of the Ukrainian elections suggested that they were getting their information from the same television coverage they were supposedly running. The over-identification of actors with their roles made viewers feel completely cut off from reality.

The surreal trend continued with the recent Yuganskneftegaz auction. No one seems to know how Rosneft came up with the $9 billion needed to buy Yugansk. How do we know whether Rosneft ever paid a cent? Only from the speeches of federal officials on television. Maybe they are simply reading from a prearranged script. Sberbank then reads its lines that certain guarantees have indeed been paid. That $9 billion should show up in the federal budget somewhere. How will we know it appeared? From State Duma deputies? Half of them are merely cartoon characters. If someone draws them without mouths, they won't say a word. It is possible that Yugansk was bought for free, and we were shown an economic soap opera. With these surreal media dramas unfolding, the fantastic adventures of an FSB major are the least of our worries.

Friday, December 24, 2004

More holiday spirit

This chap, a more informal vendor of natural holiday gear, has been in action for several mornings on Triumfal'naia. A couple of days ago, I saw him getting harrassed by a militiaman who was no doubt angling for a little holiday bribe. But this morning he was selling his pine boughs unmolested in the shadow of the Wild Orchid billboard.

You can tell he had already been out there for a while by the crust of snow on the top of his hat. It was about 16 degrees Fahrenheit (or minus 9 Celsius) this morning - cold enough to feel it if you were foolish enough to forget your gloves, which I fortunately was not.

Holiday spirit

Last Saturday Christmas trees (OK, New Year's trees) showed up for sale on the streets of Moscow. These first two photos are from Wednesday morning, when it was snowing quite heavily and the tree market appeared especially photogenic as a result:

If you click on the picture to expand it, you can see lots of snowflakes - it is frustrating that snow never photographs well, but I guess that's because the magic of falling snow is principally in its movement.

Apparently the local "Yolochnye Bazary" - tree bazaars - are organized by the city government. This is backed up by the extensive, detailed rules and conditions of sale posted by our local bazaar:


I have to confess that when I saw the local yolochny bazar, my first thought was a recollection of a rumor from sometime earlier in December that the city government was going to try to cut down on the number of natural trees available in Moscow this holiday season, because the mayor's wife had cornered the market on artificial trees. That I thought of this before thinking cheerful holiday thoughts says something about the corrosive effects on one's thinking of living in a place where conspiracy theories are frequently put forth by otherwise rational people to explain the vagaries of everyday life.

It was still snowing Wednesday evening, and Triumfal'naia Square was looking peaceful in spite of all the bright lights:


Some BMX-type bikers were taking advantage of the steps around the Mayakovsky statue, as I've seen skaters do quite frequently, and the fresh snow:


Update on replacement ads

VTsIOM (the All-Russian Public Opinion Research Center, with limited web resources in English) has an interesting article (in Russian) describing the results of a survey on the replacement ad phenomenon, which I dealt with in a previous post. They call these ads - designed to circumvent restrictions on hard liquor advertising by advertising a non-existed mineral water under the same brand as the vodka which is really being promoted - "umbrella ads," which is a coinage I had not seen before.

Those who do not learn from the past...

Vremya Novostei reminds us that 25 years ago today the Soviet Union sent troops into Afghanistan.

Although the Afghanistan campaign is generally the least controversial part of the current US-led war on terrorism - everyone agrees we should have gone there after 9/11 - the Soviet experience shows how difficult it is to impose anything, even and perhaps especially democracy (not that that's what the Soviets were trying to impose), in that country.

Looking back on St Petersburg

Well, I think I am sufficiently recovered from the trauma to relate the story of my trip to SPB a couple weeks ago. Attentive readers will recall that I was in high spirits as I headed out for the airport - alas, my Friday good feelings, my banya buzz, my travel-anticipating glee, were all about to be slain in the harshest manner imaginable.

It did take me slightly longer to get out the door than I expected; an ideal departure time would have been 3:30, but I left home at 4pm sharp. My flight to SPB was scheduled to leave
Domodedovo Airport at 5:55pm, so I figured that I still had plenty of time - I would take the metro to Paveletsky Station, a straight shot on the green line, in time to get on the 4:30 express train to the airport which would arrive 45 minutes ahead of my flight at 5:10. I made the train with minutes to spare and upon arrival at Domodedovo made my way to the check-in desk for my flight, which was where my troubles began.

Exactly 40 minutes (perhaps even 41 or 42 minutes) before my flight's scheduled take-off, I was told that I had missed check-in by two minutes. The helpful lady at check-in ran off to find the
Transaero representative who had literally just left the check-in desk. This was not successful, and I was advised to proceed to Transaero's customer service desk. There I was told rather rudely that with 30 minutes still left before scheduled takeoff there was nothing they could do to get me on the plane; they had new and very strict rules in effect since the two planes that took off from Domodedovo were blown up by suicide bombers last summer. She offered to help me get a seat on the next Transaero flight to St. Petersburg - the following morning.

Next to me at the "service" desk was an older Italian man speaking to the same unhelpful woman in broken English. He became quite exercised, but I encouraged him to calm down - it was clear to me that there was no way we were getting on the plane. The "helpful" Transaero woman directed me to their cashier's desk around the corner, where I was unable to cash in my ticket because it had been purchased through a travel agency. We then decided to see about other flights departing for SPB that evening and went over to the
Pulkovo airlines desk. We were told there was a flight at 7:15pm and another at 9:45pm. There was one business-class ticket remaining on the 7:15 flight. I let the old guy buy it in a moment of sympathy for his relative helplessness, a move I would later regret.

At 6:05 when the Pulkovo rep finally showed up at the check-in desk, there were already several other people looking to fly standby on the 7:15 flight, but as it turned out they have no official standby procedure - "What, you think I'm going to keep a list?" was the rep's response to my question about this. At 6:30 one of the other standby dreamers got lucky when he overheard someone mention in the check-in line that he had to turn in a ticket for his buddy, who would not be making the flight. This standby guy corralled the guy with the extra ticket and hounded him into walking together to the ticket desk and making sure the exchanged ticket went to him. About this time I struck up a conversation with a fellow traveler, and together we hopefully stuck out the wait for the very last passengers - in vain, as it turned out. They showed up literally 5 minutes before the flight's scheduled takeoff.

Pulkovo kept its check-in open until 20 minutes before takeoff, and then the Pulkovo rep went to the late check-in desk right by the entrance to the gates (the Transaero people didn't even point out to me that such a desk existed), which led me to only one conclusion: where Pulkovo actually wanted to get its ticketholders on the plane, the Transaero rep had closed check-in at the officially mandated cutoff of 40 minutes before the flight in order to sell my ticket (and my fellow traveler's, as it turned out - he had been stuck on a delayed connecting flight) to people on standby, and then when I showed up they didn't want to hear anything about my desire to get on the plane. I found even more disgusting the fact that to conceal their thieving they referred to new, strict airport procedures supposedly in effect since the terrorist bombings of two planes that took off from Domodedovo earlier in 2004. If I can help it, I will never fly that airline again.

This photo accurately displays how we felt at this point - the exit was there but we couldn't go through it. "No way out at DME" is what I would call this photo if it were a bit higher-quality and deserved a title:


The fellow traveler and I went over to the airport's train ticket counter to see if there were any remaining tickets on trains later that evening, even as we contemplated waiting for a standby opportunity on Pulkovo's 9:45pm departure. In a stroke of genius (or perhaps helplessness), I called my office and asked if our travel agent could tell me about any other flights departing even later for SPB. To my surprise, I found that Pulkovo had a flight from Sheremetyevo-1 at 11pm and promptly reserved a ticket. My fellow traveler reserved his at the desk at Domodedovo, and we hurried to catch the 7:30pm train back into the city.

On the train, it was time for introductions. Andrey told me he was a 39-year-old former submarine officer who now sells mining equipent for a living. He was on his way back from Dnipropetrovsk in Ukraine - at check-in for the flight there, he was asked whether he was for Yushchenko or Yanukovych. He said he didn't care, and inquired as to why they were asking. Apparently the airline had developed a short-term policy of seating Yanukovych supporters toward the front of the plane and Yushchenko supporters toward the back in order to keep them separated and avoid the fights which had been breaking out before this policy was implemented.

Andrey and I became partners in our crazy mission - to get from a distant southern suburb of Moscow to a distant northern suburb of Moscow in less than two and a half hours on a Friday evening. We were both convinced that we would have problems if we got to Sheremetyevo-1 any later than 10pm. By 8:15 we had arrived at Paveletsky station, and we were on the green line metro train to Rechnoi Vokzal (the northern end of the green line) by 8:30. We got off the metro at our interim destination at 9:00 and rushed to find one of the regular minivans running between Rechnoi Vokzal and Sheremetyevo - a marshrutka. Straddling the 3-foot gulf of slush between the curb and the tough-to-open door, we boarded and waited 10 minutes for enough passengers to board the minivan for the driver to think the trip would be worthwhile.

At 9:20, shortly after we had gotten underway toward Sh-1, the marshrutka driver cut the engine and put on the hazard lights. At first I thought he was just going to coast for awhile and then restart the engine on the go, something I've seen done by marshrutka drivers in Chisinau to save gas, but then he stopped the van, got out, lifted up his seat to reveal a plastic jerrycan full of gas, and added a bit to the gas tank. Andrey and I had a nervous but hearty laugh about this additional source of delay, as Murphy's law seemed to be in full effect that evening.

By 9:30 we were in heavy traffic on Leningradskoe Shosse, passing the ever-present working girls and choking on the fumes generated by the free shuttle bus to Ikea in front of us. We arrived at Sh-1 at 9:55 to the biggest mob scene I have seen in an airport since our flight back from Hurghada in August of 2003. I stood in line for 10 minutes at the Pulkovo counter and finally, after one failed attempt (trouble writing in English), the cashier wrote out my ticket (Andrey had gone to another cashier with a similar wait), then told us to bypass the long and immobile line for security that was creating the mob. We were cursed by many as we elbowed our way to the front, but by that time the imprecations of these other travelers bounced off of us completely - we didn't care what anyone thought, we were getting on the flight. We even had time for a cup of coffee in the boarding area at about 10:25, which was a good thing since I hadn't eaten since 1pm.

Boarding and takeoff were uneventful, then sometime before we were to begin our descent the head stewardess came over the loudspeaker and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, in 20 minutess our aircraft will be landing at Sheremetyevo - er, Pulkovo...” I think we both had a brief physical reaction to that.

But 30 minutes later we were being met by Andrey's father-in-law at the airport, who helpfully gave me a ride to the nearest metro station - although as I went down the stairs to the entrance, I saw a cop closing the gate and the station for the evening. "Won't there be one more train?" I ask; his response, "Sure, the next one is tomorrow morning." So I caught a car downtown to meet Bram at Cynic, from where we proceeded to his apartment.

The next evening was more enjoyable and encapsulated why one might go to all the trouble of getting up to SPB for the weekend from Moscow - used-book shopping, followed by coffee, a dinner of shaverma, and dancing all night at Dacha (another link). I couldn't figure out what was going on with the music there at first - it was too amazing for me to believe I was in Russia: you just don't here totally '80's sets including cuts like NWA's " Express Yourself," "It Takes Two" by Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock, and "Centerfold " by the J. Geils Band, interspersed with funk from a slightly earlier era, in this country every day. I had to find the DJ, and it turns out there was a good reason the sets were hitting home with me - a fellow American and child of the '80's was on the turntables. Jennifer Davis, AKA DJ Freakadelka, has been resident in SPB for some time, but she hasn't lost any of her old CD's, for which I was grateful.

Jennifer is actually a truly multi-talented individual. According to a concert announcement from earlier this year in Pulse Magazine:

She's best known as the frontwoman in St. Petersburg Ska Jazz Review. Davis also goes by her alias, DJ Freakadelka, when she spins classic funk, soul, disco and eighties pop at venues like Dacha. But she actually started off as a classic jazz singer with Alexei Kanunnikov's Leningrad Dixieland and with performances at the Jazz Philharmonic Hall.

Check out her DJ'ing Monday nights (I think, but she'll correct me if I'm wrong) at Dacha on Dumskaya Ul. off Nevsky.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Sponsorship opportunity

Is anyone out there interested in underwriting a team in a cross-Russia off-road race (the English-language version of the website is not complete, check out the Russian version for the full info)? All of you SUV producers, this would be a great opportunity to showcase your products. The fee to enter a sponsored team is only $30k - small change to a big auto producer. Deadline is Feb 1, 2005. You may respond (with offers of money only, please) by commenting on this post. I won't hold my breath, but I can dare to dream, right?

And where, you might ask, did I learn about this opportunity? Why, from a freebie postcard picked up in a sushi restaurant, of course:

Flea-bitten

Many expats and foreign visitors to Moscow are familiar with the open-air arts and crafts market at Izmailovo - also known as the Vernissage, to distinguish it from the massive clothing market nearby that's frequented by many Muscovites.

I have spent many pleasant hours meandering the among the stands at Izmailovo, from the tourist-oriented section heavy on cheap tchotchkes and pirated CD's near the entrance, to the "upstairs" section (you do have to climb a flight of stairs, though it's all outside) which features painters and craftspeople selling their own art and works, an extensive selection of carpets, and a couple of rows of antiques presented in flea market style.


There is also an area at Izmailovo (in between the upper and lower levels - if you've been there, you know what I am talking about) which functions more like a true flea market, with stuff that's of more questionable value and utility than the handicrafts and antiques. I have to confess that this is the area where I'm able to spend the most time at Izmailovo, but for whatever reason I had never (until last weekend) sought out a true Russian flea market. These are known in Russian, I believe, variously as a bloshinyi rynok, literally, "flea market"; a barakholka, from the word barakhlo, meaning useless junk; or a tolkuchka, from the word tolkat', to push, since, I suppose, if the market's crowded you have to elbow and push your fellow customers around to get the goods, and if it's not crowded you have the sellers desperately pushing their wares on you.

A couple of months ago, we went over to our friend Leigh's apartment for dinner and noticed that she had quite an impressive amount of Soviet-era artifacts on display. She mentioned that she frequented some more authentic flea markets than the one at Izmailovo, ones where there were bargains to be had. I extracted a promise from her to show me these places at least once. Leigh has been in Russia for some time, so I knew she wouldn't bug out for the States without following through on this commitment. Digressing for a moment, Leigh runs a company that provides serviced apartments in Moscow and St. Petersburg - if you are ever visiting one of those cities and want a reasonably priced accommodation option, you should contact her company, Pulford - they have great apartments (no, she did not put me up to this - it's a sincere testimonial!).

Anyway, last Saturday we rather spontaneously arranged to check out one of these flea markets, located far out Dmitrovskoe Shosse (luckily, Leigh has a car). Although I was a bit late, as we arrived there were still lots of people standing around in the snow selling such a wide array of stuff that I don't even know where to begin to describe it.

You can see from these pictures that many of the sellers were already packing it in for the day by the time we arrived and made our way to the main area of the market (the whole road approaching this area was also lined with sellers) - about 2pm:





Later, we made our way to a more upscale section of the market - with permanently installed tables for the flea marketeers' convenience. That was where I located my principal find of the day - an item sufficiently interesting that the seller wasn't even lying when he said it was totally unique. More specifically, it was a 1944 page-a-day calendar (but with large, A4-sized pages - for you Americans who don't know, A4 is the European answer to letter-sized paper - almost the same size but just different enough to confuse printers at multinational companies the world over) published by the Soviet Foreign Languages Publishing House for the USSR's English-speaking World War II allies. Check out one of the first pages (some of the pages in the middle are more interesting and have color inserts, but are impossible to scan without damaging the binding):



The guy wanted a cool c-note for it at first, but I got him down from sto baksov (slangy way to say $100 in Russian) to 1000 rubles (about $35 at the current rates) by using some market tricks my wife taught me, such as leaving for awhile and coming back with the same offer. Plus it was sort of chilly and I think the guy just wanted to make a sale.

On the way out, I closed the deal on a more bulky purchase which I had been thinking about since seeing the goods for sale - the 20-volume set of Melodiya recordings of
Vladimir Vysotsky, on vinyl - on the way in. Spent just over $10 (300 rubles) on that, now I just need to find a turntable.

Contact with the Motherland (sort of)

Does that other North American country count as "close enough" to be considered contact with the Motherland? Regardless, Stupid Beautiful Lies is a very entertaining blog from Canada that I tripped upon this evening. Some of my friends and relatives think I am cynical, and sometimes I agree with that assessment, but this guy makes me feel like a naive optimist. And does he ever have a sense of humor!

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Paging Michael Eisner

It's no secret to anyone who's spent even a small amount of time in Russia that foreign logos and other forms of intellectual property are used without regard for copyrights.

A couple of examples of this which confront me in my daily life:

The McDuck (or "Mak-Dak") Cafe, next door to
our favorite banya. According to the sign,
they have billiards, live music, and karaoke.

Scrooge is turning over in his grave right now.



The "Nyam-Nyam" (sort of like "Yum-Yum") pastry stand
in the Pushkin Square underpass.

Isn't poor Pooh rotund enough without having to consume heavily buttered Russian pastries?

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

December 21st - a date that will live in infamy

Today (OK, it's after midnight and technically the 22nd here, but in the States it's still the 21st) is the birthday of my very good friend Margaret. I am going to send her a congratulatory email wishing her all the very best in her 22nd year (she is turning 21 on the 21st today!) and also wishing her to share as few traits as possible with some of the famous political figures with whom she shares a birthday.

The one most remembered in Russia today was Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili (Stalin) - or "Joe Sta-LEEN," as I will never forget hearing him called with admiration by an elderly DC cabbie who had been in the USSR during the course of his WWII service in the US Navy - a leader who presided over mass murder within his own country but also over Russia's transition to an industrialized nation. Today was a "round date," as Russians say ("kruglaya data") for old Uncle Joe - he would have been 125 years old if Soviet scientists could just have found a way to keep him alive, and who knows what the world would look like if they had.

In honor of the occasion, I ventured to my
favorite bookstore in town and headed straight for the antiquarian section in the basement, where I was able to find this pamphlet with the text of Stalin's May 4, 1935, speech to Red Army Academy graduates:



OK, I actually went to the bookstore for other reasons, but I thought the visual aid would be good for the blog, and so I picked it up - just 200 rubles (kind of a rip-off, actually). If you are in a celebratory mood, see also this interesting web resource -
Songs about Stalin.

Some Russians apparently think this date is cause for celebration - according to a survey by the Levada Center, 21% of Russians agree with the statement that Stalin was a "wise" ruler; and 16% agree with the statement that the Russian people require a harsh ruler like Stalin. The total of those two groups outweighs the percentage (31%) of respondents agreeing with the statement that Stalin was a tyrant. See my previous post on illiberalism below.

Other excessively single-minded and perhaps marginally unstable political figures born on this date in this part of the world:

-
Dmitri Rogozin, leader of the Rodina ("Motherland") political party here in Russia - perhaps my least favorite Russian politician for his smug mien and misguided nationalism.

-
Mikheil Saakashvili, the genius behind the Rose Revolution and currently the president of Georgia (Tbilisi, not Hot-lanta) as a result.

Apparently December 21st is the birthday of
Jane Fonda and Phil Donahue as well. What does it all mean? I encourage any astrologically minded readers to comment, since I have no idea.

Illiberalism on the march

The darkness of December 21st was consistent with the announcement by Freedom House that they now consider Russia to be officially "not free."

Of course, NGO's can be biased, but can anyone credibly argue against the points that earned Russia the only "negative category change" in the Freedom House survey this year?

"Russia's step backwards into the Not Free category is the culmination of a growing trend under President Vladimir Putin to concentrate political authority, harass and intimidate the media, and politicize the country's law-enforcement system," said Freedom House Executive Director, Jennifer Windsor. "These moves mark a dangerous and disturbing drift toward authoritarianism in Russia, made more worrisome by President Putin's recent heavy-handed meddling in political developments in neighboring countries such as Ukraine."

The darkest day

December 21st is the day (in the Northern Hemisphere) when the sun shows itself for the shortest time all year. In Moscow today, the sun was out for exactly 7 hours, roughly between 9am and 4pm. The bright side, so to speak, is that from here on out the days get longer, although they will get colder as well - after all, December 21st is also known as the first day of winter (though not as much so in Russia as in the US).

Monday, December 20, 2004

A time to remember

Looking back a couple of weeks, I have apparently been too traumatized or too strapped for time to give a good recounting of the crazy way I got to St. Petersburg on Friday, December 3rd. Nevertheless I think it's high time to share some more of the photos from that weekend.


Crossing Nevsky Prospekt in the snow, around 7pm, Dec. 4


The heavy snow through the windshield of a St. Petersburg
cab - a Volga with the interesting assortment of a Russian
flag, a Smurf figurine, and an Orthodox icon on the dashboard
(see foreground - you know you can click on the pictures to
enlarge them, right?)


The price list and (behind the glass) most important part
of a shaverma stand. This tasty treat, known elsewhere in
the world as gyros, doner, and shawarma, and elsewhere in
Russia as shaurma, is for some reason almost invariably
tastier in St. Petersburg than in Moscow. In moments of
dark humor, I have been known to joke that perhaps that's
because the St. Pete dogs there are better-fed, but in fact
this delightful street food is usually made from chicken.


The inside of the bathroom door at Dacha - can
you tell this is a club frequented by the occasional
foreigner, in addition to the many Russians in
evidence there?

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Contact with the motherland

Poking around in the blogosphere, I found a blog that will be appreciated by one of my most loyal readers: The Peoria Pundit. This should allow my mother to keep up with the local news in her hometown.

Rainy day blues

36 degrees Fahrenheit, or +2, as we say here in the rest of the world that uses the metric system, and raining. Those were the conditions just about all day today, and I have to say I feel betrayed by the weather. After several weeks of more snow than one has a right to expect, the pendulum has swung the other way, and it is unseasonably warm.

Luckily, according to
Weather.com's Moscow forecast, it looks like we still have a chance for a white Christmas on December 25th. What the weather will be like by the time most Russians celebrate Christmas on January 7th is anyone's guess, but it doesn't much interest me, since by that time we plan to be in the midst of a Florida vacation.

This morning I went outside to hail a car to get me to the banya and was confronted with the effects of higher oil costs - when I started going to the banya a year ago, I could always get a car for 50 rubles (a little less than $2), even if that meant I had to stop a few cars before finding one to take me to our favorite Sunday morning banya, about a 15-minute drive from home. Today, the best deal I could get was 120 rubles, and everyone was asking for 150.

My "cabbie" (I use the quotation marks because I never use actual taxis for personal trips, but negotiate with the first car that stops when I stick my arm out at curbside - usually these are middle-aged Russian guys moonlighting using their own beat-up cars or killing downtime on the job using the car in which they usually drive around their boss) on the way there was a banya aficionado - he was 50 if he was a day, and he said he had been going to the banya ever since his dad took him there as a kid. I could tell he was a true banya lover - in it for the natural high - when he talked about how you should never drink anything in the banya but mint tea. It is remarkable, really, how "banya" is in so many cases a euphemism for a place to get plastered with your buddies (taking the steam is secondary for such groups), or a brothel - these tendencies just give other banya-goers a bad name.

Anyway, we steamed and sweated, beat ourselves with birch branches in the parilka (steam room) and jumped into an ice-cold pool of water; and then, as is the custom with this group of banya-goers, made our way to Druzhba,
the best Chinese restaurant in town, for a long and hearty lunch.

Afterward, I was feeling lazy and decided to flag a car to get home. Usually I take the metro, but I didn't have the energy for that, or I walk when the weather is nice, but the rain had already started so that was out. I got home for 100 rubles, and again had a chatty driver. He was lamenting the weather, and, proving that Moscow's gypsy cabbies are not of one mind about anything except the evils of higher gasoline prices and traffic cops, he suggested a different use for the banya - "Yes," he said bitterly, "This kind of weather is only good for sitting in the banya and drinking vodka."

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Windows

OK, so maybe I am going a little photo-heavy tonight. Trust me, it's easier on your eyes than reading the thousands of words these images are worth.


Mosproekt (city architectural planning agency) building
on 2nd Brestskaya St., Dec 15, shortly before 7pm

Holiday cheer

It's often remarked in the US that the Christmas season keeps creeping earlier into the year as retailers attempt to maximize the amount of time that people are in that special consuming mood. This phenomenon is in full effect in Moscow, where New-year's-themed decorations started appearing this year in mid-November and the city government made sure that the downtown holiday trees were set up by the start of December.


Pushkin Square, December 1, around 9pm

The view from Triumfal'naia Square

Because I was out walking around in our neighborhood until just a few minutes ago, it seems appropriate to post a couple of photos of the area at night. There didn't seem to be anything photogenic going on this evening. These are both from October 13:


Hotel Pekin and traffic on the Garden Ring


Garden Ring traffic and the "wedding cake" skyscraper at
Barrikadnaya in the distance

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Depressing figures on police brutality

From polit.ru - no author credit given. Translation by yours truly. Disheartening stuff.

Every 10th Victim of the Militia is a Teenager
December 15, 2004

One-third of Russian male teenagers aged 14-17 (32%) have been the subject of militia interest in the past year. These data are from a survey on “militia violence toward teenagers” which was conducted by Yuri Levada’s Analytical Center at the request of the Social Verdict foundation.

According to sociologists, in 48% of these interactions the militiamen behaved in an improper manner. The most frequently mentioned incidents were detention without cause (in 23% of interactions and more than one half of the instances of improper militia behavior); verbal insults and abuse of the teenager (in 18% of interactions with militiamen); threats (15%); and beating (in 12% of interactions, i.e. one in eight interactions). It’s no surprise that over 70% of teenagers and their parents are afraid of the militia’s lawlessness and aggression. Of every one hundred cases alleging human rights violations committed by law enforcement bodies, ten involve children or teenagers as the victimized party.

“The level of expectation that law enforcement officials will violate the law is such that a sociologist must consider it the statistical norm in the lives and consciousness of today’s Russians,” said the head of the Levada Center, professor Yuri Levada. “In other words, behavior unbound by rules or limits and the militia’s demonstration of its dominance by any means necessary are becoming increasingly widespread and are expected by the majority of Russians in encounters with government law enforcement officials.”

Latynina - an interesting pundit

Check out Yulia Latynina's latest Moscow Times column before they put it into the paid-access-only zone. As always, she has some interesting insight and is not afraid to draw unambiguous conclusions. This column is better than usual - it doesn't have the slight whiff of wild-eyed conspiracy theorizing which sometimes creeps into her opinion pieces. You can also keep up with her regular talk-radio show on Echo of Moscow here or here, and her "official site" is worth checking out if you are able to read Russian.

Since I don't have as much time to follow the issues or as many connections to follow the palace intrigues as the professional commentators and journalists here do, I am probably not in the best position to judge the quality or factual accuracy of her analysis, though in my opinion she often seems dead-on. In any event, she is certainly one of the most original and thought-provoking voices of commentary still appearing on Russia’s increasingly barren mediascape (though she lost her TV outlet when they shut down TV-6 successor TVS). I translated a small portion of one of her broadcasts a couple of months ago because the story she describes really was (and has continued to be) quite under-reported:

Excerpt from Access code - Yulia Latynina’s weekly program on Echo of Moscow radio -transcript from October 16, 2004

Yu. Latynina – Good day, this is Yulia Latynina and “Access code” is on the air. First, as always, some questions from the internet. I have a bunch of questions I’m going to try to answer here about Abkhazia, about Yuganskneftegaz, about the terrorist act in Taba, even about the Russian national soccer team’s loss. But first I would like to briefly mention one interesting item which went practically unnoticed by the Russian press but was very much of interest to Western newspapers. That is the report of the governing council of Iraq, which found that Russian politicians and officials received fairly large amounts of money from Saddam Hussein.

Companies linked to the KPRF received about 142 million barrels under the oil-for-food program, that works out to about $16 million of profit for them. Zhirinovsky received more than $8 million, Mirkom, the MChS’s trading company, that is, I should remind you that at that time that trading company and the MChS were headed up by the then-leader of “Unity” [Sergei] Shoigu, and all of this was going on while the question of whether Russia would support Iraq or America was being decided. Shoigu received $7.6 million, and the most modest recipient was Aleksandr Voloshin, the then-head of the presidential administration, a mere $638,000, according to the Iraqi governing council.

As I already said, none of this aroused very much curiosity in Russia. First, because all of this has long been rumored, and there wasn’t really anything that seemed too disturbing for Russia. Yes, we know more or less what our Russian officials are like, but in the West everyone was terribly alarmed. The reason I’m talking about this is that it’s a very important matter, this story about Iraqi money, Iraqi bribes to be more precise, which explains the mechanism by which our foreign policy decisions are made.

To be honest, it was always incomprehensible to me why Russia took Europe’s side on the issue of Iraq rather than America’s. Let me repeat that I don’t want to discuss the Iraq war here, I don’t think it was justified, and I don’t think President Bush was a smart man for starting it, that was all falsehoods, stupidity, and lies. Just like all lies, this one has ended badly; Bush wanted to use the Iraq war to help defeat terrorism, but he’s only made it stronger. He wanted to lower the cost of gasoline for his voters, but he’s raised it. And most importantly, the war in Iraq has changed the USA from a power which controlled the world through certain mechanisms, certain economic, financial, and, as funny as it may sound in relation to the US, cultural mechanisms, to the extent that Hollywood and McDonald’s can be considered culture. So anyway, this war has transformed the USA from America into an empire. To be what America was and become an empire, that’s sort of like what happened to Spain in the 16th century, what a fall.

But we’re not talking about that, we’re talking about the fact that the war in Iraq could have become a fortunate gift for Russia, because we could have become America’s natural allies in the war against Islam. That is, we are fighting Islam in Chechnya, after all, and the US is doing so in Iraq. Second, because the USA was prepared to compensate us for our support in this war. They were ready to repay us not only with trade concessions and not only with the repeal of Jackson-Vanik; they were willing to repay us by changing Russia’s geopolitical status. Specifically, they were willing to make Russian oil instead of Arab oil one of the main sources of US oil reserves.

Forgive me for such a pro-Russian statement, but a chance like this comes along to a country that has left the ranks of the superpowers once in a century. And we supported not the US, as it happened, we supported Iraq, we supported the EU, which, let me remind you, is a half-Islamic state. It’s enough to say that the most popular name for newborn boys this year in Holland was Mohammed. And now it’s become clear, from the report of the Iraqi governing council, why this happened: because the US was offering trade benefits for all of Russia, geopolitical status, Jackson-Vanik, etc. Saddam Hussein was offering big bucks to the big-shots. That is, Saddam Hussein understood better than the Americans how Russia works, because as it turned out, to get our support, the Americans shouldn’t have enticed us with Jackson-Vanik or whatever. It would have been enough to pay our officials more than Hussein did. That is a frightening decisionmaking process. We have 50 seconds to commercial, so speak up, you’re on the air.

Listener Alexei (Moscow) – Yulia, you find lots of interesting stories in the surrounding environment and comment on them in very interesting ways. But how would you comment on this story, it seems pretty interesting that some liberals are shouting on every street corner about how democracy and freedom of speech are being suppressed. But other liberals, including the leaders of SPS, Gaidar and Chubais, are implementing this very same suppression of democracy and free speech. How can that be?

Yu. Latynina – thanks for the question, I’m of course quite surprised that it turns out we’re ruled by Gaidar and Chubais here in Russia, that they are the ones suppressing free speech and democracy. I’m speechless, so I can end my commentary there and break for commercial. But, actually, that’s a brilliant text, I advise you to send it in to the Financial Times, that certain liberals, as you said, certain individual liberals, that’s a classic way of putting it, certain individual liberals are suppressing democracy. Turns out Gaidar’s in charge of the country. Commercial.


Underground Moscow #4

This is the pedestrian underpass crossing Tverskaya right in front of our apartment building (we are across from the Hotel Minsk). It's a rather spare underpass with no built-in kiosks, and only rarely will there be anyone selling anything - usually if there is a vendor there, the goods are tourist-oriented watercolor paintings aimed at the foot traffic from the Marriott a half-block away. There is almost always someone playing guitar and singing (sometimes more than one person), and sometimes there is a flautist for variety.


Descending into the underground - facing toward
Pushkin Square, and more immediately a classic
Marlboro ad and a strangely tilted kiosk.


This is a different teenage guitarist from the one who's
usually in this underpass - the usual guy must get
Sunday nights off.



Exiting the underpass on our side of the street into the sleet
and in the direction of Triumfal'naia Square; the Marriott
Grand is visible in the upper right-hand corner.
All photos taken around 10:30pm on Dec 12.