So Vlad You Came

St. Vladimir  Blesses Me

My trip across Russia truly began in earnest on August 27, when I took a short ride out to Vladimir. Once again, I was very impressed with the Russian railroad system. The high-speed train only took two hours to travel to this lovely city in Russia’s Golden Ring. I have a feeling that twenty years ago, this same trip would have been on a rickety electrichka (inter-city train) that would have stopped at every other lamppost and arrived somewhere in the area of four hours. Today, the trip was fast, clean, and the train announcements were made in both Russian and English.

Siberian-style House

The Golden Ring is a series of ancient cities that surround Moscow. They are filled with beautiful and historic monasteries and churches that miraculously remained untouched during the Soviet era. Next to Suzdal (which I did not visit), Vladimir is one of the best in the bunch, where you can find the beautiful Assumption Cathedral with original art by the immortal icon painter Andrei Rublev. What I found most interesting about the ancient architecture is that it is based the churches and defensive structures of Kyiv. Before Moscow became the center of the Russian empire, Kyiv was where it was all happening. The great Prince Vladimir, who brought Christianity to the Rus people, was from Ukraine, not Russia (Thus “Kyiv-Rus” NOT “Rus-Kyiv”). Russians have tried over the years to deny this fact (the Soviets were famous deniers) but facts is facts and the Russian nation started in Kyiv. Over time his successors began to drift towards the Moscow area, first making Vladimir the capital of the emerging Russian nation. Therefore, there is a defensive gate based upon the Golden Gate in Kyiv. The Assumption Cathedral also has the feel of an ancient Ukrainian Orthodox church with onion domes, white exterior, and an interior filled with icons and the smell of incense. But of course this is not ordinary cathedral, as it was built beginning in 1158 and has remained intact with several changes despite centuries of war and political change. But unlike many of the churches in Moscow and Kyiv which are reproductions of earlier structures (ask the Soviets what happened to them!), this cathedral is the real deal. The icons, including the Rublev’s, are suitably dimmed with age. Additionally, the smell of incense fills the air and tourists inevitably rub elbows with worshipers and pilgrims who relentlessly bless themselves and venerate the many icons throughout the cathedral. An added highlight was the view behind the cathedral. A short walk out back reveals the Oka River which cuts through the fine-looking valley below.

Golden Gate

While the city of Vladimir was incredible from an historic point of view, my stay at a local wooden cabin hotel outside of town was the cultural highlight. This was the time where I got to hang out with the locals and learn a little bit more about their lives. When I booked the hotel months ago, I knew it was a little bit outside of town. I thought I could take an quick marshrutka and all would be well. I was soon informed by the wonderful Sofia at the train station that it was best to take a taxi to the hotel as a bus would take much too long. So this wonderful woman helped me arrange for the taxi and made sure the driver had the correct directions. Off we went, traveling, traveling, traveling. I began to wonder if we were going the correct way; fortunately, Google maps was working and I was able to locate the hotel. Boy, was it far away! I knew that I probably would not be doing much traveling the next day and decided I would just stay put. So I rang the bell, and out came Svetlana, the wife. She spoke very little English but my Russian was more than sufficient. She got me settled in my cozy cabin and then said she would prepare dinner for me (paid for, of course). Then the fun began.

Assumption Cathedral #1

Assumption Cathedral #2

Before dinner, I went with her husband, Valeryi, to walk their German Shepard. Or shall I say, the German Shepard walked us. Valeryi was a kind, talkative 60-year old man who liked to try out his English whenever possible. I’m not sure how many words he knows but he punctuated his speech with a well-timed adjective whenever possible (the dog was “quick, quick” and “crazy”). As he was dragged along by his monster canine, we discussed my travels and life in Vladimir. I also got a good look at the neighborhood which was filled with Siberian-looking houses; although we were far from Siberia. When we arrived back home, Svetlana invited us in for dinner. Immediately upon sitting down, my eyes were drawn to the cabinet which, like most Russian households, was filled with knickknacks of varying relevance. But, as hard as I tried, I could not avoid seeing on the top right-hand corner a picture of ole’ Vladimir Putin and next to the current dictator, I mean President, a flask with an engraving of Stalin. Oh boy! I steadied myself for an encounter I might not want to have. And yes, as much as I didn’t want to talk politics, Valeryi did. He told me about the strong Vladimir Putin and how important it was to take back Crimea and help our Russian brothers. As he said this, he joined his fingers from both his right and left hands to show a sign of unity and strength. Svetlana, who seemed more practical of the two, talked about how she could not wait until they built the bridge into Crimea and they could then drive to Yalta. I didn’t take the bait. I was not going to be dragged into a conversation about Ukraine. But it gave me more clarity on how some (or perhaps many) Russians think. As it has been throughout their history, they believe that the world; especially the West, is against them and that Russia must unite all Slavs in opposition. They have been deluded into thinking that the Ukrainian crisis was an invention of the West and that they must stick up for their brethren. They don’t seem to understand that despite the number of Russians in Ukraine, that it is a separate country that Russia just can’t go into at its discretion. First Georgia, then Ukraine, and then…the Baltics? I chose not to pursue this point.

With Svetlana

With Valeryi and Bearskin 

As a couple Svetlana and Valeryi seem like any long-lasting partnership in any country in the world. She, as a good Russian wife, makes the dinner and takes care of guests. He, as the good Russian husband, does the heavy chores, pays the bills, and sits down and eats here (delicious) meals. There is also the requisite joshing and eye rolls at statements that have been repeated ad nauseum over the years. Case in point, Stalin. I have a feeling that Valeryi wanted to talk about Stalin all evening. He kept looking up at the engraving and was more interested in him than Putin. Valeryi began to talk about how he admired Stalin, not for the bad things, of course. There was no mention about camps, knocks on doors in the middle of the night, and mental breakdowns after the German invasion. Instead he talked about how the prices on food was always low, and how everyone had a job and an apartment, and, and, and…Again, I chose not to interrupt because there were too many holes in which to blow through his arguments. Svetlana, for her part, just rolled her eyes and said that things were not always that great. She clearly had heard these arguments before. Valeryi just winked across the table and said that they were an “Italian couple”, and lightly banged his fists together. This brought another eye roll from Svetlana. It was then time for another toast, as I drank the Georgian wine and he drank more vodka. After a few hours of this great company, and some delicious stuffed peppers, I made my way to bed. 

Masha

I was lucky enough to stay another day at their hotel. I decided not to travel into Vladimir, even though it was their city days; usually lots of people and lots of fun. I didn’t feel like making the trip and then trying to get back. So I spent the day catching up on sleep and email. After another wonderful dinner, and similar conversation, I called it a night. The next day there were hugs all around. I felt that I had made one of those special connections you can only make when you cross national and cultural borders. Since that time, I have not had as many interactions as this but I hope to change that as I go deeper and deeper into the Russian Far East.

Unlucky Bear

Budapest and Moscow Have Figured It Out!

One of the highlights of my trip to Budapest was a trip outside the city to a place called Memento Park. This is an open-air museum that was created to house statues of the former Communist regime. Anyone who knows the history of Hungary, especially 1956, will understand that the era of Soviet rule was far from pretty. But other than tearing down a statue of Stalin in 1956 (and leaving his boots), there appears not to have been a slate of desecrating monuments from the ‘bad-old-days’. It was decided that these statues and reliefs would be best served as a museum of remembrance. Russia, as well, was left with many statues from the USSR days. Although there appears to be a Lenin still standing in most major cities (and perhaps towns as well), many of the older monuments have been removed. In Moscow Muzeom Park along the river is where you will find many of these far-from-forgotten characters.

Like my first day in St. Petersburg, my initial day in Moscow was spent walking and seeing the city. I started in Red Square, and what a mess! Unlike twenty-five years ago, when things were less touristy, I felt like I had the place all to myself. Not today, or ever again. I was immediately overwhelmed by the sight of dozens of tourists snapping pictures in the Revolution Square metro stop while Muscovites attempted to get on with their day. I finally made a dash for the stairs and emptied out in to Red Square where I was met with more tour groups and the closing of the square. Apparently, there was some sort of major event in the offing and Red Square was filled with tents, fencing, and more tour groups jostling for limited space. This is where I decided it was best to begin my trek down the Moscow River towards…who knows. 

Peter the Great

As I strolled along the river, I noticed the constant construction. I’m guessing this is in anticipation of World Cup 2018, right around the corner. But it seems like the construction has been going on for years. Soviet buildings have been replaced by modern edifices and clean, new parks. I was drawn further down the river towards, what appeared to be an enormous statue of a man steering a boat. Yes, indeed, I had come upon the horrible statue of Peter the Great. Muscovites hate this monument for many reasons, the least of which is how ugly it is. It smacks of the Soviet/Russian predilection for gigantism. There is literally no purpose for this statue…except one thing, if I had not seen it I might have missed Muzeom Park.

Although I had head of YYYY Park, I didn’t know where it was located and I had not made solid plans to visit. But I seem to have come upon it at the perfect time; I was tired of walking and I found lots of benches and lush grass to sit upon. As I was sitting, chugging my water, I began to notice the statues. Hey, it looks like Lenin over there! No surprise as Lenin is still accepted here, if not venerated, over twenty-five years after the fall of the Soviet Union. 

Hey, it's Lenin!

Then I saw the other heroes of the Soviet state: Marx, Engels, Brezhnev, and even Felix Derzhinsky. Yes, the same founder of the NKVD, who helped both Lenin and Stalin institute the organs of terror. Mixed in with the horrific Communist rabble, there were statues of poets, writers, and dissidents like Andrei Sakharov. As someone who loves history and photography, I had a field day at the park. I was taking pictures left, right, and center. I kept taking photos until I was just too hot and exhausted. When I sat down, I looked around and began to observe the locals. I saw office workers on their lunch breaks, bikers, skateboarders, parents with children, and other tourists. It was the things I didn’t see which struck me the most. Many of these statues were of quite horrible people; yes, there were even some Stalin statues. But no one seemed to mind. The statues blended in with the people’s daily life and seemed not to affect them. I didn’t see protests. There were no plaques designed to describe their crimes, real or imagined. It didn’t even appear that people were silently judging which statue offended them the most. Also, the statues were clear of any graffiti by those looking to grind an axe or two. And believe me, Russians have many axes to grind if they so choose. With all this going through my mind, I wondered why we can’t do something similar. Instead of erasing history for fear of offending others, why can’t we do like the Hungarians and the Russians: save the history, make a park, if you don’t like it…don’t go. Not a very revolutionary idea, but does it need to be?

Global Soviet

Stalin

Mr. Excitement - Brezhnev (#1)

Mr. Excitement - Brezhnev (#2)

Sakharov

Iron Felix Dzerzhinsky

Notes About the Underground

Without a doubt, things have changed on the Russian trains; subway, intercity, and long-distance. The metros of St. Petersburg and Moscow were always something special, beautifully decorated with nearly every stop having its own personality. Of course, it helped that some of the gold and chandelier-filled stations of Russia’s two largest cities were ‘curated’ by the Soviets, who ransacked Orthodox churches before blowing them up. But it seems like the lethargy of the 1970s-1990s gave way to an explosion of metro building throughout the 2000’s. Not only do the trains run more frequently, but the stations are artfully constructed and easy for foreigners to navigate.

Revolutionary Glory remains in St. Petersburg Metro stations

What surprised me the most when I first stepped on to the Moskovskaya metro station in St. Petersburg, was the x-ray machines and metal detectors. Since the terrorist attacks in April 2017, all train stations in at least Moscow and St. Petersburg have been equipped with tighter security methods. In addition to the machines, there are cops everywhere; some of them heavily armed. I was wondering how they could check so many people heading into and out of the subways. I’m still not sure how well the system works as people’s pockets and bags are filled with metal, electronic devices, and plastics. Sometimes I was made to put my bags through the x-ray machines and other times I didn’t. I couldn’t quite decide on if there was some sort of regulation or formula as it all seemed so random. The workers who were checking the x-ray machines looked as bored as the people who do a similar job at the airports.

Once you pass through the security upstairs, you slowly (and I mean slowly) descend the multitude of escalators and reach the last bit of safety equipment - the blast doors. They are just as they are described, two heavy metal doors that separate riders from the tracks. Therefore, you have to listen for the sound of the train arriving or an announcement from the intercom person to know that your ride has arrived. The doors loudly slide open to allow passengers off before you can get on. Again, I question the wisdom of these blast doors. On the one hand, they look like they can contain damage from a substantial blast. That’s the good news. Then there is the bad news; what happens if a bomb goes off and you are on the train? How will you get out? I’m assuming there is a set of safety procedures but I could not see them posted anywhere, at least in English.

Beyond the Stalinist feel (what other feel would there be in Russia, Putinist, perhaps?) of the safety measures, riding the metros were a joy. It was especially joyful after hearing about all the problems with the NYC transit system which has been in the news recently. Unlike New York, both St. Petersburg and Moscow stations seem large enough to hold a growing population. The Moscow stations were particularly overwhelmed with locals and tourists alike but it seemed that everyone was able to find where they were going to with enough space to move. In Moscow there are at least ten lines but you can easily follow the maps which are in every station in Cyrillic and English. There are also signs on the ground pointing commuters in the right direction. This was particularly helpful in Moscow as the size of the system was almost overwhelming the first time. I’m unsure of how many lines were added over the years but it was definitely a more comprehensive system. There are now two ring lines that allow commuters to connect to other lines without having to head back into the city. It makes traveling easier for the time-strapped tourist and the busy Muscovite alike.

Fully-rounded view of the Moscow Metro

Finally, the décor! I could go on forever (wait, let me try…) about the beauty of the design and the layout of the St. Petersburg and Moscow metro stops but that would require months (years?) of traveling the lines to get my facts straight. It is hard to put into words the amount of decorations, mosaics, statues, etc. metro riders walk by every day. I often wonder how many of them take the time to actually look at what is around them. Or are they like New Yorkers, heads buried in phones or eyes on the ground? How one could not be amazed is beyond me. St. Petersburg, for all accounts, is not quite as fancy as Moscow. You can still much Socialist Realist art on the walls. In Moscow you can also find heavy duty Soviet stations like Ploshchad Revolyutsii as well as some of the newer, less political stations. I was in one, Novoslobodskaya that was filled with mosaics and stained glass. I didn’t have time to see who or what was represented. But the station I was near, was easy to figure out, “Dostoyevskakay”. Built in 2010, this was full out Russian author with stone murals of some of his most famous works. There is one whole panel dedicated to Crime and Punishment and another to Fathers and Sons. On the way out the door (or on the way in) there is large mural of ole’ Fyodor himself.

Stained Glass at Novoslobodskay

Lenin Speaks!

How many more stations like this exist, I am unsure. It seems that the powers (power?) that be set out to create a transit system that was both practical and artistic. I am assuming there are train delays and other distractions but I often wonder why we cannot make our transit systems run this well. At rush hour, trains come barreling into the stations every one or two minutes. In New York them come every, what, six minutes? I also think the themed stations do so much for the commute as well. To a lesser degree, New York City stations are themed but not to this level. Imagine making your transportation system into a living museum, rather than a slimy Petri dish?

For the Love of (St.) Pete(rsburg)!

I was told years ago that if you threw a kopeck into the Neva River and made a wish to return, you would someday do so. I think I threw my kopeck, complete with visage of Comrade Lenin, into the Neva on a cold November day in 1992. I wasn’t sure if I would ever, indeed, return but I thought I’d set the wheel of fate in motion. Apparently, the story is true as I began my Trans-Siberian adventure in St. Petersburg on August ninetieth.

Palace Square and Winter Palace

Fortunately, St. Petersburg has changed…and it hasn’t. I think I was struck by the good mood and the smiling faces. After all, I had only seen Russia in the fall and the winter when a dour face met me on every street corner. I was also amazed at the amount of tourist groups walking around the city, invariably led by a person carrying a tiny flag that identified the nationality of the group. Before, I felt like foreign visitors were few and far between. I was also impressed by the amount of restaurants and coffee shops. As I have previously stated, back in the goodle days, most restaurants/cafes were Soviet-type affairs with substandard (to say the least) service. Now I’m helped by waitresses/waiters with smiles on their faces and a willingness to help understand the menu. I also found that the metro had been greatly improved. There were newer trains along with the old Soviet standards. Connections were easy, payment understandable, and the stations themselves were often decorated with murals and statues. The only frightening parts were the blast doors at many of the stations as well as the metal detectors at all stations. These are the result of the terror attacks not so many years ago.

When you have only two and a half days to see one of the greatest cities in the world, the inclination is to do as much as possible. That proved to be a bit shortsighted as you really need to take your time and build in meal and rest breaks. I learned this the first day when I went tramping throughout the city, trying to hit as many hot spots as possible. I walked from my hotel past the Peter and Paul Fortress over the bridge and all the way to Nevskyi Prospect. I was so intent on taking pictures that I didn’t stop to rest for at least three hours. True, I got to see Palace Square, the Hermitage, churches, but I was so worn down that I had less energy on Day Two. Instead of going to the Hermitage, the Bolshoi Ballet, and the Peter and Paul Fortress, I mainly stuck to the Fortress.

Peter and Paul Fortress from Across Neva

Closer view of Peter and Paul Fortress

The Peter and Paul (no Mary) Fortress is located on Zayachy (rabbit) Island and is the place where Petersburg began to grow. It was a military bastion as well as the burial place for a great number of the Czars. As a student of history, I was looking forward to this visit most of all. I tried to get there early but I was so worn out from my previous day’s jaunt that I was at the gate by 1100. And that’s when I saw them…the hordes and hordes of tourist groups. This was my first real interaction with them and it was not much fun. I realize that it’s difficult to be an individual traveler when everyone seems to be with a family or a tour group, or tour groups full of families. The camera and phones are in the air and no one seems to be looking where they are going. It was particularly fun inside the main church were the remains of the czars rest. I was trying to read the information plaques and snap a few discreet shots but I was constantly dodging the hordes. I guess that was a small price to pay as I got to see the graves of Catherine the Great, Peter the Great, assassinated Alexander III, and best of all, the last czar, Nicholas II and most of his family. After finding my way out of the church I made my way over to the prison. At one time the place was filled with revolutionaries who were looking to overthrow the Romanovs. Other than say, the Decembrists (not the band), I hadn’t heard of half of these groups. It was interesting to see the cells of Lenin’s brother (who died in the prison, I think) and Maxim Gorky who was briefly imprisoned here. And it wasn’t only the czars who used this place, the Soviets took full advantage of it as well; albeit, for a shorter amount of time. They are still finding the remains of former tsarist officials buried in the yard. 

Grave of Czar Peter - Who's Great Now?

Grave Alexander III

After four hours of walking around the fortress, I planned to eat and hit the next spot. But lunch ended up being a banana back at the hotel and a two-hour nap. At that point, I knew that any ideas of doing more touring were out the window. I had even planned on doing a run down by the Neva – Negative! I was able to rally and get some dinner. I also took some time to take exterior shots of the Church of the Resurrection, more commonly known as Church on the Spilled Blood. The church was built on the spot where Czar Alexander III was assassinated in 1881. I was excited that I was getting some great shots when the rain came pouring down. That pretty much was the end of my day but I felt like I had accomplished quite a bit in less than ten hours.

                                                                                            

Russia - The Return

The last time I was in Russia was in 1992. I had just finished college; although, I had previously taken a two-week trip to the then Soviet Union in 1990. It was obviously very Soviet back then. I remember the greyness, the sameness, the unsmiling faces. As for entertainment, restaurants and attractions were few and far between. I remember feeling quite fascinated with the whole experience, yet I also felt vaguely threatened; I never knew if something terrible was going to happen. Yet, despite all this, the place had a certain charm…a Stalin/Brezhnev kind of charm. The buildings had not changed in years, the streets were uneven and pockmarked, and you never knew what the prices would be the next day. I knew that I would not see a place like this again in my life. And if I ever came back, I didn’t expect much of a change. How wrong I was…

The Russia I see now is considerably changed. First, Moscow and Petersburg are much more tourist friendly. When I (briefly) went to Red Square this week, the place was mobbed with tour groups. In fact, the metro was constantly overwhelmed with tourists of all nationalities, shapes, and sizes. I popped off a train at Revolution Sq. (filled with Soviet revolutionary statues) only to be confronted by at least fifty Japanese tourists snapping pics. There was literally nowhere to move, so I bobbed and weaved my way out the door. This would never have been the case in the 1990s. There are also more museums and tours to take. If you want to go along the Neva River in St. Petersburg there are various boat companies hawking their wares. You can do the same along the Moscow River as well. And then there are the restaurants. In the 1990s, I was lucky to find a stolovaya (cafeteria) that sold halfway decent food. If I wanted something fancier, like a Georgian restaurant, I would have to head way out of the center of the city…only to find the place was closed for “repairs”. Today, there are no such problems. Restaurants fill the streets of both Petersburg and Moscow so the only problem is making a choice of where to eat. And best of all, I no longer feel the menace, the dread that I did twenty-five years ago. I feel like I can travel the subways and the streets and be relatively safe.

Pete & Paul Fortress from across the Neva

Another view on a cloudy day

What will I see during my trip across the country is anybody’s guess. I’m thinking that outside of the main metropolises I will find more of the old ways. Will these old ways be Russian or Soviet, I don’t know. But I do hope I find things a little less slick and polished that I did in Moscow and St. Petersburg. While I do not want to go back to the mood of 1992, it would be nice to feel some of the quaintness that I did before. Before I felt like a pioneer while today I feel like I am just one of many exploring the Russian lands. 

One of the Stalinist Seven Sisters

Old Soviet hotel