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Winston Churchill once described Russia as “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.” Almost seven decades later, that image hasn’t changed much. The country scares off most before they even think of visiting it.
In my lifetime, I have known a few who have been to the country for studies or work, but never for tourism. Travel advisories abound. The UK foreign office warns against “racially motivated attacks”, its Australian counterpart recommends “a high degree of caution”. All ‘civilized nations’ of the world have plenty to offer to deter a potential first-time traveller to Russia. To add to the woes are its reputation as an English-unfriendly country, a feared police force, and Moscow’s ranking as one of the world’s most expensive cities.
Thankfully, a childhood hangover induced by my love for WWII, in which Russia played a defining role, and my father’s using the epithet “India’s enduring friend” for Russia, helped me finally overcome the odds. Together with a friend, I sampled selective delights of this mammoth nation for a total of two weeks, touching upon four destinations – Moscow, Listvyanka (by the shores of Lake Baikal), Stalingrad (now Volgograd), and Saint Petersburg, in that order. From the very beginning, I was determined to see more than just Moscow and Saint Petersburg, which are undoubtedly two of the best cities in the world, but are after all only trailers to a really long movie.
Busting the myths
Having seen relatively far-flung parts of Russia, I think I can safely call myself a myth-buster: Russia is safe to travel as a country; the policemen don’t collect bribes as their day job; the natives won’t pinch their noses shut if you come near them; the surreptitious glances are far more a case of confirmation bias than reality; there are no gangs of goons with shaved heads looking to pounce on people of colour; for minimalists like me, Russia is an extremely cheap place to travel, at times even cheaper than India.
That said, the country is indeed difficult to navigate given the near-complete absence of English speakers. To get over that we employed two instruments: shoving Google translate in the mouth of anyone giving us directions, and mastering the reading of Cyrillic script, in which Russian language is written. The latter isn’t nearly as difficult as it sounds, and took us only a day. Although reading the language doesn’t always convey the meaning of words, it is a prerequisite to finding one’s way around metro stations etc. Also, the heavy police presence nearly everywhere can be unsettling to begin with, though the policemen are quite friendly – as friendly as a stranger communicating in sign language can be – and don’t trouble tourists at all.
It is perhaps most important to bust two more myths – both creations of Western media - that haven’t been mentioned above. The first is that Russians are an ignorant bunch ensconced in their past glory-fuelled cocoon, unaware of the horrors inflicted by their past, and even present, leaders. Nothing could be further from the truth. To my utter surprise, I found that the war hero Stalin is utterly despised across the country for his crimes against humanity. There are memorials to his victims, and Russians openly speak out against him. Although the landscape is dotted with Lenin’s statues, there is no special reverence towards the founder of Soviet Union. Russians are also not afraid to speak out against Putin, but there is a general feeling of goodwill towards him. At least the young Russians are willing to admit that not everything was right with the Soviet Union and they’d rather not go back to it, though I was shocked when my tour guide defended the invasion of Hungary and Czechoslovakia as a necessary evil that had to be committed in the interest of sovereignty. But then I was somehow reminded of Hyderabad, where I live currently, and wasn’t shocked anymore.
The second myth is that Russia is a poor country in a state of terminal decay. Russia’s nil population growth only helps reinforce this impression. Despite the no growth, however, young faces are far more in abundance in Russia than in European countries like Italy and Germany. This goes well with the fact that Russia’s median age at 38 years is considerably lower than that of most Western European countries. As far as the state of public utilities is concerned, Moscow and St. Petersburg would give any other city of the world a run for its money, and actually for far less money. Both cities ensure safety even at late hours, are sparkling clean, have perfect roads paved with broad sidewalks, and public transport is easily available. The only thing a traveller might miss is the night buses of cities such as London and Sydney. The state of public utilities in our two lesser-known destinations, Stalingrad and Listvyanka, wasn’t bad either. It was amusing to have a Russian friend of mine, who had not travelled much beyond Moscow, warn me against going to either of these places, but they turned out quite pleasant. It is possible to spot the odd stray dog in the smaller cities, but if anything, the canine friends are a welcome sight.
The good stuff
Russia also offers three best - and they all happen to be very important - things in the world: the best beer, the best-decorated metro stations (in Moscow and Saint Petersburg), and the best-looking people (I say this despite my travels to Italy, Germany and Denmark last year).
To add to the best beer bit is the fact that it also happens to be the cheapest in all the countries I’ve had it in. Having to pay a mere 120 Rubles (equivalent of nearly 120 Rupees, thanks, oil prices and sanctions) for a 500ml glass of this elixir, and that too one which is available at every nook and corner, is reason enough to visit Russia. In Russia, one doesn’t have to bother about choosing the brand, just “beer” is enough to ensure that the draught installed at the hotdog seller’s will swish out a good next 30 minutes for you. It’s a pity that Russia does not allow public drinking like parts of Europe do. But that doesn’t always stop beer lovers from chugging in public places. Sometimes it can even get scary, like the case of a drunken burly man in a bus in St. Petersburg, though he turned out harmless and rather funny.
Russian metro stations are humungous – one can stand on the escalator for up to 4 minutes - and so pretty because they were built from the material gathered after desecration of ornamental churches under the anti-religious Bolsheviks. But that’s only talking of the old stations. Religion is no more persecuted in the country, but the new stations – built in a modern style - continue to be a treat to the eye. The picture below of a station in Moscow will give an idea.
As for the people, you’ll just have to go by what I say, since, you know, people aren’t as conducive to being photographed for purposes of display and comparisons. The most curious bit about Russians, and indeed about Europeans in general, is that but for differences in sartorial elegance, it is impossible to judge their socio-economic status based on their appearance and/or physical traits. The usually strong correlation between appearance and/or physical traits and socio-economic status in India is one big reason for entrenched biases, such as in case of skin colour.
Cultural experiences
In a foreign land, “cultural shocks” are usually associated with coming to terms with something completely unexpected and baffling. But sometimes, overt familiarity when it’s least expected in an unfamiliar land can be baffling, too. Russians, more specifically those born in the glory days of Soviet Union, love Bollywood. Raj Kapoor might have been forgotten in India, but he is a living legend in Russia. My first encounter with this fact was when my server at a Burger King outlet in Moscow exclaimed “Raj Kapoor” as soon as he got to know my nationality while making small talk in broken English. In Listvyanka, I witnessed Ladies Vs. Ricky Bahl, dubbed in Russian, playing on Zee TV at a restaurant, with the staff glued to it. Later, my tour guides in Listvyanka and St. Petersburg, who spoke fluent English, unravelled the mystery. Hindi movies were heavily imported by Soviet Union during their days of cultural isolation from the West, dubbed into all major languages spoken within it, and played to packed theatres everywhere. Soviet Union and the West are indeed a study in contrast – while the latter was drowning in the euphoria of The Beatles, the former was crooning the tune of “ mera joota hai japani…sar pe laal topi roosi… ” Wonder whether the lyrics had something to do with geopolitical concerns.
Other movies such as Sita Aur Gita (1972) and Disco Dancer (1982) have attained cult status too. Hindi movies provided the Soviet people a much needed alternative to the propaganda films of the Communists, and gained enduring popularity. The propaganda about primacy of family under Stalin also helped Bollywood’s family-oriented movies. Surely, Bollywood’s popularity has paled in comparison to Hollywood’s since the dissolution of Soviet Union, but it continues to endear India to the Russians. The case is the same with regards to music, too. Russian entertainment, from cabs to public toilets, is characterized by near-complete invasion of English music post-1991. While most Russians still don’t understand a word of English beyond “chicken” and “hello”, they happily groove to English music of all hues.
Despite the curious bit about Bollywood, divergences abound between Indian and Russian society. With the exception of homosexuality — which a Russian friend termed “unnatural” while claiming to represent the views of most Russians — Russia is a sexually liberated place. Unlike India, PDA right down the middle of a station platform is common. Female cleaners assigned to male toilets are easy to spot. Their cinema and soaps are loaded with sexually explicit acts and images. I did pose pressing questions to my guides about how the Bollywood of yore — the epitome of prude cinema — came to be so popular. But I could at best get vague responses claiming the explicitness in Russian cinema was largely a post-1991 feature.
It is also noteworthy that Russia is so far the least ethnically diverse country I’ve been to. The overwhelming majority is white, interspersed with people of Central Asian origin. Even the tourists, except at world-famous sites such as the Red Square in Moscow and the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, are all Russians from different parts of this vast country. While there is a chance that this breeds hostility towards people from other races, I faced no such issues at all during my two weeks there. True, Russians don’t fake smiles and hellos to strangers – a characteristic of the West - and avoid small talk for the heck of it, but they’re as forthcoming as any other nationality when it comes to helping foreigners, as long as the language barrier can be overcome (thanks, Google Translate). I will forever be grateful to a mobile phone retailer in Stalingrad who agreed to sell us a sim card without checking our passports, which we’d forgotten to carry while leaving the hostel.
Just a word of caution: Russian taxi drivers, just like their Indian counterparts, are not to be trusted. You will regret sleeping off in the cab (cost me 350 bucks).
The destinations
Like other big cities, there is no dearth of places to see in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Both cities offer free WiFi in the metro, and at various other spots.
Regarding Moscow, it would help to know that between 1947 and 1953, Stalin built seven near-identical, gargantuan structures around the city. One of these is the Moscow State University, pictured below, which looks more like a prison from hell than an academic building.
Moscow is one city that India’s smart city developers could really take some notes from. Despite a population over 12 million, traffic is well-managed, the city is clean as a sanitized operation theatre, has over 40 percent of its area under lush green cover, boasts of amazing public transport, and has the broadest sidewalks of any city that I’ve visited.
Another lesson: to avoid disrupting Moscow traffic, the Russian president now uses a helicopter to fly in and out of Kremlin.
Listvyanka, our second destination, is an idyllic town by the shores of Lake Baikal in Siberia, the largest freshwater lake in the world by volume. This place is nearly six hours by flight from Moscow, and a full two and a half hours ahead in time. But these seemingly large numbers don’t even begin to fathom the monstrosity of Russia. The longest flight in the country and can be nearly nine hours long, and the maximum time difference within the country is seven hours! A friend from the eastern end of Russia lamented suffering severe jet lag whenever she travelled to Moscow for work.
Going as far as Listvyanka, where hardly any Indians do, was nothing more than a child-like insistence at setting foot in Siberia and witnessing Lake Baikal, which I’d dreamt of visiting ever since I started sketching it on a map with blue crayons, during geography class in school. We made the hour-long trek to the highest point in the surrounding mountains overlooking the lake, and wondered why this ‘as far as the eye can see’ water body was not christened “sea”.
While touring the lake by boat, our polyglot guide Viktor - he’d managed to memorize a few sentences of Hindi and could speak them in impeccable accent - took us to a spot in the lake, a few kilometres from the shore, called “Shaman stone”. It is nothing but a tiny piece of rock jutting out from the surface of the lake, but like an iceberg, stretches deep inside. Legend has it that the great mythical warrior/king Baikal, after whom the lake is named, threw a massive stone – now the Shaman stone - into the lake to stop his beloved daughter, Angara, from eloping with a man. More curiously, the spot is used by Shamans to judge the fate of those accused of crimes such as adultery. The accused is left at this spot at night time, and if he/she can survive the night, is considered innocent. Needless to say, Shaman stone has turned out to be a harsh judge. Viktor informed us that the last such judgement took place “just a few years back”.
As a tourist to Lake Baikal, if one has four or more days to spare, it is imperative to visit Olkhon Island, a far more bucolic cousin of Listvyanka bound by the prettiest parts of Lake Baikal. Owing to its isolation, it came to be the sacred hub of Shamans in the northern hemisphere.
While Moscow is arguably the more famous of the two, St. Petersburg – built from scratch starting 1703 by Tsar Peter I, and modelled on Amsterdam - is far prettier and much more cosmopolitan in its outlook. The city seems straight out of a fairytale, with canals flowing through it – it has rightly earned the moniker “Venice of north” - and leaves coming to multicolour bloom during autumn. Though famous for Heritage Museum and several other magnificent indoor spaces, St. Petersburg, just like Europe, is best enjoyed outdoors. Get out of the museums and the cathedrals. Walk by the enchanting Neva river, take a blind turn into one of the bylanes, eavesdrop on the plans of English-speaking travellers from Britain and US to forsake their countries to settle in this land which offers so much more for so much less. Make sure to walk the gardens of Peterhof Palace, also known as “Russian Versailles”. St. Petersburg is all about its open spaces. Sites can be seen and captured, cultural experiences can be felt and relived. Choose wisely.
Stalingrad, it turns out, is a rather odd destination for Indian tourists. But it is the holy grail of a WWII fanatic. Even as a kid I would wonder what Stalingrad looked like in reality, after hearing stories from my father of the epic battle that lasted five months and claimed nearly two million lives – the highest ever for a single battle in history. Later, I read a tonne of books on the battle, including Antony Beever’s epic Stalingrad. I’d ensured a window seat for the flight to Stalingrad so that I could see clearly the city while the plane hovered over it before landing. Some childhood memories really stick. From a few hundred feet above, I could picture the German 6th Army and the 4th Panzer Division appear at the horizon after routing Soviet Defences at Kalach-on-Don, a town on the river Don, and rapidly cover the vast empty plains at the city’s outskirts like an advancing colony of ants.
At the end of the battle in February 1943, hardly anything remained of the city. But the way it’s been brilliantly rebuilt leaves little traces of the iconic battle. One reminder, however, is the legendary Pavlov’s House, pictured below, that was defended by a handful of Soviet bravehearts against Germany’s Wehrmacht for 58 days, longer than the entire Battle of France lasted. Walking around this peaceful city late at night, it is hard to imagine that there was a time when its air smelt only of gun powder, and instead of the mellifluous tune of the cello and the violin that is heard in its cafes and sometimes even by the roadside, its citizens had to make do with nothing but the permanent ringing of mortar blasts in their ears. Temperatures of 6 degrees Celsius, coupled with some wind and rain, made it impossible for us to be out too late. At the peak of the battle, nearly 3 million men fought for every room of every house in this city, at temperatures well below -20 degrees.
Home coming
Getting back home from a foreign land is always a mixed feeling. One misses the obvious things, but to a very large extent, it is counteracted by a combination of the best food in the world and freedom from toilet papers – the only two things that vaguely invoke jingoistic pride in me.
Regarding toilet paper, a Russian friend had the most hilarious reaction (screenshot below) when I told her on Facebook chat about how Indians deal with their mess.
The landing of my flight back in Delhi was marked by a loud “Hindi mein likha hua aa gaya bhai” exclamation by a fellow passenger. For now, I am happy to be back in familiar places with warmer temperatures, overpowering the occasional blast of unpleasant odour with the mouth-watering aroma wafting from the next streetfood stall, something that no foreign land can match. But I will be back in Russia soon.
