IMPRESSIONS FORMED ON A BRIEF VISIT TO RUSSIA
Preconceptions
My wife Baubie and I had the privilege of spending the last 10 days of July with Port Elizabethans, Rob and Michele Elfick in St. Petersburg where they have been living for 18 months.
Inevitably one approaches a visit of this nature with some preconceptions, in my case arising from memories of a visit to Moscow in 1992, the impressions of Rob and Michelle circulated to their friends by e-mail, recent extensive media coverage of matters Russian (e.g. Chechnya, Putin’s administration, the 300th anniversary of St. Petersburg and the G8 visit) and not least the vestiges of cold war and apartheid era propaganda instilled in baby-boomers like me. These preconceptions include visions of a crumbling infrastructure, a confused and overly bureaucratic administration, corruption, “Mafia” dominance, a struggling economy and 3rd world environmental and other standards. Like much about Russia, such preconceptions are both true and untrue. Russia and its people are full of contradictions, making the visit for me, brief as it was, a fascinating experience.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
We arrived at St Petersburg’s Pulkova Airport in the early afternoon on a day which weather wise, set the pattern for our entire stay – hot (+/- 30 degrees C) and muggy. The majority of arrivals debark within a couple of hours of each other each day, and passengers issue almost directly off the plane into a dingy, unrelentingly plain and unbearably hot hall, too small for the numbers, and immediately queue at about 10 passport control windows. Although Russians are supposed to go through the ‘citizens’ control point, for some reason many of them prefer to use the others, often waiting much longer and adding to the discomfort of the rest of us. The passport control officers are the Russians of my preconceptions – forbidding, unsmiling women who snatch at passports and documents and spend an interminable time poring over them to no apparent end –family groups are not permitted to present themselves together – those who attempt to do so are waved imperiously back.
We nevertheless got through in what apparently is a record time – about an hour. Rob tells of a recent return from Finland when after standing in the queue for in excess of an hour, the booth he was heading for closed without explanation, leaving him and others to rejoin another queue – at the back!
The luggage hall was strangely cool – it may even have been air-conditioned. The carousel (only one) was inadequate, and officials randomly hauled bags off to make more space, leaving one to search through piles of bags on the floor to find one’s luggage.
The grogginess caused by heat, flu and a long sleepless flight caused us to leave a small bag. The next day however we found it to have been collected, efficiently sealed and locked up and available for collection after completion of two lengthy forms and a written customs declaration declaring that we had nothing to declare!
We were finally met by the happy smiling faces of Rob and Michelle, complete with traditional bouquet for Baubie. I later realized why they stood out so much from the crowd – they were the smiling ones.
The airport gave us our first experience of the emphatic unhelpfulness of Russians (i.e. those that you don’t know) Nobody (officials, shop assistants – even ticket sellers and others at major tourist attractions) is prepared to make an effort to help or to understand. Often you will be berated aggressively in Russian (presumably for not speaking Russian or daring to ask if they speak English) Accordingly, (or perhaps I should say especially) by South African standards the service levels are extremely poor. The level of bureaucracy (of the unnecessary red-tape sort) remains high.
For example, visitors to Russia may not stay with friends (Russian or otherwise) It is necessary to check into an accommodation establishment which retains your passports and registers you with the authorities. The recognized (almost overtly so) practice however is to pay for a night’s accommodation at such an establishment, in our case a back packer’s hostel, leave one’s passports (against all international traveller’s advice) and come back in a day or so to receive the necessary certificate. In our case, it turned out we had not been given the correct form at the airport, making it necessary to write to the relevant office requesting one, then return to complete it, once again leave it and passports with the hostel and hope for the best. It turns out that we had got caught in the coils of a common dilemma. A law or procedure had changed at a high level but no forms or advice had filtered down. It is quite possible that we no longer required the form to get out of Russia but as the penalty at the exit point (usually under pressure of an imminently departing flight) is a fine of varying hundreds of US dollars, we were not about to take a chance.
However, to return to the airport, we were transported by one of the Elfick’s Russian drivers in a blissfully air-conditioned vehicle. The road in from the airport is typical of major Russian routes (in Moscow too) being multilane boulevards with wide (often grassed and flower studded) central islands. The major routes of St. Petes (including the two most important being Moscovskiy and Nevskiy Prospekts) radiate out from a central meeting point near the Neva River.
Out near the airport are wide public open spaces. All Russians in the city live in massive apartment blocks. During the short period of warmth (about 6 weeks in July and August) they flock to the open spaces and strip off to expose themselves to the sun. The grassy areas alongside the road are studded with reclining sun-worshippers.
On the road in, one passes monuments on a massive scale – the monument and museum commemorating the 900-day siege of Leningrad by the Germans in WW 2 marks the effective entrance into the city. The bravery and stoicism of the Russian citizens of the then Leningrad is aptly marked by the huge circular monument, with a jagged break in the circumference representing the fall of the city, eternal flames and huge cast groups showing all the categories of citizens who contributed. The museum is not overblown, but displays simply and eloquently the almost unbelievable steadfastness of the besieged city, that lost half its population.
The museum is a huge circle and marks the beginning of Moscovskiy Prospekt – the good taste of the monument is impinged upon by the sight on each side of the Prospekt of two identical massive buildings designed and built in the Communist era, of unutterable concrete ugliness – these are perhaps the only two really ugly buildings I saw in St. Petes (many of the newer apartment blocks are merely bland and faceless)
Further along Moskovskiy one passes a huge pointing Lenin – unlike the tsars and emperors, the Communist leaders have not by and large survived in statuary form, apart from Lenin.
There are many emperors on horseback, authors (Dostoevsky, Gogol, Tolstoy and the like) brooding over St Petes and Moscow. One passes a huge Brandenberg-gate like monument to one or other victory of war topped by neo-classical forms of heroic warriors. The Russians do not forget their tragedies, their victories or their heroes. They have successfully preserved the beauty and character of a remarkable city with a glorious history, succeeding only in blocking from visible memory the gloom and paranoia of the Communist years. Unfortunately (as with the relentless spectre of apartheid) the excesses of control exercised in those years continue to bear heavy on the Russian psyche.
Even on a Sunday our trip from the airport was marked by heavy traffic. One sees plenty of Ladas (Fiat 124 clones) driven by Mr Average, or young jollers. However there are large numbers of expensive (mainly European, not Japanese) vehicles – big BMW’s and Mercedes, some Audis and Volvos and many SUV’s – clearly money is being made and spent by many in St Petes.
THE CITY
St. Petersburg was built on what was essentially a swamp, at the mouth of the Neva River into the Gulf of Finland (a shallow flat and somewhat stagnant stretch of water, not really worthy of the name sea) The city is networked with canals. The Neva (and by extension the canals) are heavily polluted. One is warned not to drink from the taps as the water supply is drawn from the Neva and the purification process does not remove either an endemic amoeba which causes painful diarrhea (residents are largely immune) or heavy metals which cause undetermined long term damage. Residents however do swim in the Neva, mainly at the ‘beach’ at the Peter and Paul Fortress, which is also where the polar bear club meets –they are reputed to swim every day of the year, even in minus 35 degree C temperatures when the Neva had frozento 1.5 metres thick. As with all cities on the water however, the presence of the river and the canals provides a pleasant relief from the cityscape. It is seldom that one is not passing alongside or over a canal on the river, and the bridges (especially over the canals) are fascinating and beautiful.
The road infrastructure is good, although off the main routes there are potholes and places where the heavy steel trams have gouged up the road alongside the tracks, making them impassable other than to 4x4’s. Rob tells me there has been a marked improvement in city infrastructure in the 18 months they have been there, and it seems central government spending will now be redirected from Moscow (which in the 11 years since I was last there has undergone a remarkable transformation) It strikes me that I may have been painting a somewhat negative picture. The city of St Petersburg in keeping with the intentions of its founder is essentially a ‘ European’ city as interpreted by the Russians and this makes it unique. It is both constantly impressive and beautiful.
Its buildings constantly amaze – as we drove down unimportant access routes we would see buildings currently used for some nondescript purpose, but which bear the signs of loving architectural design – one after the other – our necks became strained from “looking at that!” and we became lost for superlatives to describe the wonders we were seeing. Graceful columns, embossed designs, figures and statues, swooping architrave’s appear everywhere – on the main thoroughfares, such as Nevskiy Prospekt one sees the massive department store of the Gostiny Dvor, the amazing design of the old Singer Sewing Machine Building, interspersed with churches, cathedrals, theatres, small parks and statues. The imposing facades of the buildings do not always reveal what lies behind (especially to those untutored in Cyrillic) but step through any door and find a host of opportunities for those who revel in retail recreation – many in “old-fashioned “ surroundings such as the grocery store which retains its heavy sloping glass fronted display cases with wood frames and marble tops, stained glass windows and the aura of a bygone era (“Yasileevs” – redolent of the old “Hustlers, the grocer” of Main Street, PE). Many outlets are in extensive below street level basements or off alleyways running crookedly between and sometimes through buildings – many having internal courtyards. The massive Nevskiy market is contained inside the square created by a building which covers a city block, but only around the outside – the interior is a plaza, accessible only through narrow pedestrian walkways – on Nevskiy itself you would not know it was there.
The features of the city are monuments (I have said enough about them – without counting I suspect the most numerous are to Catherine the Great and Alexander 1.)
Secondly I guess would come the palaces. They seem to be ubiquitous – not only did the emperors create enormous, endlessly beautiful fantasy masterpieces, but everyone with a bit of money seems to have had a palace as well. The Winter Palace (Hermitage), the Catherine Palace, Peterhof with its fountains, the Alexander Palace are all available to visit. In most cases only a small portion of each is available to view, but even still it is a foot-wearying job working through them. The Hermitage Museum (which is packed with priceless works of art – reputedly 90% of what they have is still in storage) will reputedly take you 14 years to view. We were not able to spend time on the art – just the rooms were enough – in many cases each room was designed by famous architects for a specific purpose and then created over a period of years by skilled artisans and craftsmen. Again, superlatives so not do justice to the reality. Added to the above are the “non-royal” palaces such as the Engineer’s Palace, The Yussopov palace and others. The latter was built as a town house to hold the merchant, Yussopov’s art collection (much of which is still there.) He saw fit to build a 180 seat theatre in the house (complete with Royal box) to the whim of his daughter who had a yen for the stage, but as a society lady could not be seen on the stages of the public theatres. Yussopov Palace is a manageable size and again leaves one agape. It is quite astounding how much art and other treasures (not to mention these monuments to aristocracy and elitism] survived the communist years, the depredations of looting Germans and the like.
It is similarly interesting to see the extent to which churches have survived. The Kazan Cathedral, a crumbling edifice in the course of restoration, dominates the middle of Nevskiy Prospekt and continues to host not only masses of tourists but seemingly continuous services and many merely passing in the street who call in to light a candle.
From the front of the cathedral one looks across down the canal (alongside which Rob and Michele live) at the gingerbread castle fantasy of the much more recently built Church on the Spilt Blood – perhaps now one of the most photographed views of St. Petersburg. Other notable turreted, bell towered and gold leafed masterpieces include St Nicholas Cathedral (built for sailors) Peter and Paul Cathedral (in the similarly named fortress, where all of the Tsars and Tsarinas are buried) and St. Isaac’s which has a walkway “in the sky” around its golden dome and from which a panoramic view of the city is available. And those are just some of the the Russian Orthodox churches. Others we saw included the Catholic Cathedral and the “Armenian Church”, and a large Mosque decorated in turquoise mosaic.
As I have mentioned before, another constant in the city is bridges. Those on the Nevskiy are all capable of lifting and are opened at 1:30 in the morning to allow river traffic through (ships of similar size to the coastal freighters which ply the African waters, but with pared down superstructures navigate the Neva) On warm summer nights in July and August, it is only dark for a couple of hours and the opening of the bridges an attraction to tourists (the vast majority of tourists are Russian) and locals alike. All along the river, floating restaurants and kiosks alike do brisk business in beer and meals whilst crowds of people promenade along the water’s edge. Certainly at this time of year St.Petersburg does not sleep.
The many canals are criss-crossed with bridges; many decorated with golden winged lions or other mythical beasts, gold leafed columns and turrets, on tower bridge-like arches. Perhaps my favourite is the “Taming of the Horses” on Nevskiy, at each of the four corners of which is a large representation of a straining horse being controlled by a muscular man – each being unique. From road or water, this bridge is spectacular. For runners (who seem to be Rob, Michelle and their visitors) the Neva bridges, with their slight inclines, represent the only hills available in the city.
The city features a number of open spaces (some of which are squares or plazas) but include a number of parks. We visited the Summer Garden (very popular with strollers) the park around the Mars monument and one morning went to run on Yelagin Island, on one of the tributaries of the Neva. On the island on which the Peter and Paul Fortress is constructed (commissioned by Peter the Great to command the seaward approach to Petersburg) there is a “beach” alongside the walls of the fortress, an artificially created stretch of what I will charitably call sand, which attracts not only sunworshippers, but bathers who brave the scummy waters of the Neva in all temperatures.
At Peterhof, not only is the palace surrounded by beautiful gardens throughout which are situated the many astounding fountains, but the palace is on the Gulf of Finland, also a popular bathing spot. I saw large numbers of people heading off a wide dark stretch of mud serving as a beach. About 200m offshore, the water remains only waist deep, so not much real swimming is done.
Although many residents of St. Petersburg now seem to have access to cars, a great many remain reliant on public transport. The main means is the Metro. Built during Communist times and generally paraded as a triumph of the state, the metro as experienced by us in St. Petersburg and Moscow is efficient, fast and cheap. In St. Petes, the tunnels are deep (due to the swamp-like nature of the soil) with steep, long very fast escalators – no room for hesitation. The connecting pedestrian tunnels are clinically tiled like old-fashioned provincial hospitals, with white tiles. Many taxis ply the streets and fares can be negotiated if business is not good. Many streets have tram tracks on which extremely heavy old steel trams operate – obviously also going back to the early communist era. These have a tendency to tear up the tar surrounding the tracks and where this has occurred, the 4x4 was welcome. There are also “route taxis” looking somewhat like the proposed replacements for our local taxis. Interestingly there seems to be little commercial ferry traffic on the river and canals. Large hydrofoils carry day-trippers to and from Peterhof and the sightseeing boats ply the Neva and the canals. On the streets traffic is heavy, except in the morning (The vodka seems to kick in at about 3:00 or 4:00 ) and traffic only picks up at 8:00 or so, increasing with the rush to get to work at 9:00 and peaking from then until midday (obviously winter will change this pattern- apparently many cars are put away for the winter, when driving requires steel studded snow tyres)
For a front seat passenger, a first experience of driving in Russia (on the right) is alarming. The traffic signals do not go to amber from green, but directly to red. From red they change to red and amber together and through to green. Intersection collisions are a favourite pastime and we saw a few and a number of near misses. The prevailing pattern seems to be that if a perceived gap exists, go for it. This includes on the right of a large articulated truck or bus about to turn right. The sport is to make it through the gap before it closes. If alongside a tram, which stops, a driver must stop too (trams are in the middle of the road) – and let the passengers off. It is nor permitted to cross the major boulevards from a side street (even at a controlled intersection) and turn left into the lane on the opposite side – rather one turns right and does a U-turn to face in the opposite direction in a small space left in front of cars stopped at the robot in the main thoroughfare. The roads in central St. Petersburg are often jammed, but I did not see them gridlocked – the traffic always seems to move somehow.
A feature of Russia is “VIP Convoys”. I believe that certain levels of politicians are entitled to travel in vehicles with a flashing red light on the roof and a braying type klaxon. It seems that the ‘right’ in question often seems to pass to others with the means to acquire it. The typical convoy is led by a Mercedes Benz (decked out in traffic police livery, although the average patrolmen use the ubiquitous Fiat 124 type Ladas – presumably they are also sponsored by the convoyed person) Next in line will typically be a black S class Merc 500 or similar and a luxury SUV (BMW X5 or Merc M Class) and followed by another big Merc. They all drive bumper to bumper at considerable speed, through red robots, intersections etc., loud klaxon braying – smoked glass windows complete the “Mafia picture” Apparently the big-shot is usually in the SUV – if a hapless Lada driver gets in the way in an intersection, the big Merc will merely T-bone him and be left whilst the one at the back pulls up to the front. As is apparent in the media, political/business/Mafia assassinations are not uncommon (usually an anonymous shot in the back of the head) and the convoys are a safety mechanism. In such cases the line between politician and "Mafia" is not always apparent.
Traffic cops are everywhere, usually weeding out the unconnected Mr. Average in his Lada, or much bashed Opel or similar to check papers and vehicle, find something wrong and send him on his way a couple of hundred Roubles lighter. This seems to be a tacitly accepted method of income supplementation.
On the business front, the multinationals are moving in, with substantial manufacturing and other facilities. Rob works for JTI, a massive cigarette manufacturer, which markets Russian brands as well as well known names such as Camel. There is now a Coca-Cola plant, a Cadbury’s chocolates and biscuits factory, a Cadbury’s owned Dirol chewing gum plant and more. Many of the major US and European companies seem to use expats at the upper echelons of management although I believe from Rob that the skills transfer rate has resulted in the numbers of expats decreasing. For the present however, it remains cost effective for companies to pay for such skills in US dollars, expensive apartments and cars with drivers. It seems that the level of frustration of operating in an environment where the work ethics and service standards that we take for granted are not only lacking but not understood at all, results in expat burnout after about two years.
On the retail front, over the last 10 years there has been a metamorphosis. I have mentioned the massive shopping precincts such as Gostiny Dvor, the market on Nevskiy and supermarkets. Traders have made imaginative use of atriums, basements, arcade spaces and the like, with few purpose designed retail buildings (such as massive malls). It is possible to find all the major brands and labels as well as many high end boutique shops (such as a beautiful household goods, furniture and appliance store we found – presumably catering to the wealthy “new Russians” – run by a Frenchman and stocking cutting edge European designs). Prices in “label” shops tend to be in ‘units’, somewhere in the shop you will find a conversion, which will give you the Dollar/Euro or Rouble rates. It is a bit confusing for the uninitiated particularly if they think they have found the bargain of the century in Roubles – usually it needs multiplication by at least 30! By and large everyday goods are competitive in Rands. Nearly all CD shops stack huge ranges of CD’s you would never see in Musica (complete set of the Doors, GrandFunk Railroad and John Mayall for example) selling for 70 Roubles (about R18) each. Of course, they are knock- offs, but they sell in legitimate retail outlets. Also DVD’s, computer software and the like are similarly available at bargain basement prices. The latest range of digital cameras is available at about 60% of SA prices.
It is necessary to say something specific about the environment. The most notable feature for South Africans is the massive differential between winter and summer. We experienced the current European wide heatwave with temps usually in the 30-degree C range, with Durban like humidity. Contrast this with December temps of –35 deg C and the massive pressure on city infrastructure will be understood. In the dead of winter, the sun never comes up and at the height of summer it only just goes down. At this time of the year (August) daylight is lost at a rate of 45 mins per day. We experienced one drenching thunderstorm (luckily whilst in the Pajero) which rapidly caused streets to flood to a depth of a metre and dropped visibility to a few metres. In winter the city is blanketed by heavy snow, the Neva (and the Gulf of Finland) freezes to a depth of 1.5 metres. The city is dotted with tall chimneys of the heating plants, which produce steam to heat office and apartment blocks. It seems that it is in this area of infrastructure that much work needs to be done. In some apartment blocks the heating has failed, making for a bitter winter.
The vehicles still use poor quality fuel, leading to stinging eyes and coughing due to poor air, if one is using foot-power. But it has certainly vastly improved since I was last in Russia in 1992.
By way of contrast, the newspaper reports on the action being taken by the government against the Cadbury’s owned Dirol plant for illegal use of chemicals contrary to factory specs approved when it was built.
The Neva River remains polluted in spite of being the city water supply – visitors are warned in guidebooks of the pernicious amoeba, which causes major runs.
The contrasts in weather are visible on the facades of buildings – double glazed windows are essential.
The national government elects a deputy Prime Minister whose sole responsibility is preparing the country for winter. Having to deal with that environment is beyond our understanding. Rob tells me that they stop running below about –8 deg C. Even then he has a pack if bubble wrap which goes into the front of his track suit to protect the leading parts of his anatomy from suffering from frost-bite.
Finally, I have to make some comments about the people. I won’t pretend after 10 days to have any great insights. The greats of Russian literature have attempted to expose the Russian psyche. I obviously cannot compete. In 1992 the Russians seemed to be almost in a daze – they were confused as to how to deal with the collapse of a massive centrist communist regime – most people had known nothing else. It was hard for people to take control of their own lives to the extent required. However it is now apparent that they have succeeded in doing so to a far greater degree than I would have believed possible. There is an air of confidence, of security and of self-worth which was lacking 11 years ago. Of course, the government remains largely centrist in nature and the people seem to accept a far higher level of central control and intervention than is the case in SA. The Russians that one meets (policemen, ticket sellers, and shop assistants et al) seem to have no consciousness of being part of a greater world. They will incorporate Western consumerism and culture into their own lives, but on their terms. US movies are available on DVD, but with Russian soundtracks (unlike in most other European countries which often make do only with subtitles) In fact, those with soundtracks by “realist” translators, who incorporate the modern Russian slang, swearwords and references to “new Russian” culture are much in demand. I detect a deep seated and unbending sense of “Russian-ness” which pervades the make up of every Russian. I have not in any other country experienced the same sense of identity by the people with their country, their language, their culture, with a national religion (even by those who reject it) such a sense of sharing of centuries of national suffering and melancholy, as with the Russians. Perhaps only the French come close in their essential Frenchness. It is perhaps this, which gives rise to the serial grumpiness, the pervasive scowl, the refusal to be helpful with which one tends to be faced from all Russians. The usual Western tourist’s refrain of “Do you speak English?” is usually met with a contemptuous dismissal and often with a torrent of abusive Russian, essentially “why should I speak English, this is Russia and I am a Russian”. On the other hand, it is possible with time to get behind the façade and as long as the proper degree of respect and understanding is shown for the fact that one is dealing with a Russian, to find friendliness and hospitality.
In St.Petersburg, women are reputed to outnumber men by 5 to 1. And what women! The promenading masses on Nevskiy Prospekt in the afternoon contain as abnormally high proportion of beautiful women. Uniformly small boned and slim, they parade in tiny skirts, high heels, tight and plunging tops designed to display all their charms without actually being quite naked, and without somehow lacking taste or being vulgar. Perhaps it is the disdainful “Nevskiy strut” – hips and breasts thrust forward, legs swinging from the hips, heads held high- which is the saving grace. Certainly there is an eye-popping panoply of pulchritude, unaffected by dour notions of politically correct feminism.
St.Petersburg is perhaps the quintessential new Russian City. It retains with pride its ancient heritage – yet it has developed its own lifestyle and vibrancy – a mixture of wild-west land-grab Mafia barons, petty corruption, new money, optimism, growth, goods in the shops, luxury cars and perhaps overall a sense of opportunities and a better future which has continuously emerged over traditional Russian pessimism.
A visit to St.Petersburg is recommended to all readers who have endured this far!
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