The first time I went to Russia was in the summer of 1998. The transition from communism to capitalism was in full swing and the country was in a turmoil. They even had two monetary systems, the “old” ruble and the “new” ruble, whose value differed by three zeros on the end of the bills. (They were in the process of transitioning from the old to the new but it was all very confusing!) I was not there by myself. Our organization had established a large footprint in Moscow as we developed our cooperative program with a sister Russian enterprise – thus we tended to travel in groups. Russia at that time was a land of adventures and I can, and will, devote several entries to my experiences there. Moscow today has settled down a bit as the city has become more westernized but there remain charming idiosyncrasies which can, and do, lead to suprises.
My first impression, as we were driven from the airport to our apartment building in the center of Moscow, was “drab”. It did not look like any city I had ever seen before. First of all the architectural signature was extremely divergent. Buildings with a recognizable historical western European style mixed with ugly communist block construction (I cannot call it architecture) adjacent to edifices exhibiting Eastern influences all could be seen as we traveled to the city center. Moscow had an undefinable look unique to itself which defied classification. Contrasting hugely with the gray, seemingly run down, squat cookie-cutter apartment buildings were picturesque small parks and decorative flower plantings scattered throughout the city. From a distance huge monuments dedicated to the triumphs of the “Soviet” workers could be seen.
Moscow Landscape
What could not be seen anywhere, at all, were signs or other forms of advertisements. None of the buildings had any obvious demarkations of their contents. The occasional cyrillic “magazine” (translated literally as “store”) or “restaurant” were the rare exceptions. The total lack of adornment on the buildings or the streets lent a rather desolate look to an otherwise crowded city.
St. Basil's in Red Square
We arrived at our relatively western style apartments, checked in, got our room keys, and headed for the lift to get to our rooms. The lift, like all European models, was rather small, probably about the size of a smallish linen closet. Two of us, with luggage, could fit at a time, three if you wanted to be cozy. It was in the lift that I got my first taste of the innumerable surprises that would be in store for me in Russia; surprises that made living there an adventure in itself. The lift was an old one, smelly and somewhat run down (like everything else in Russia at the time there had been no capital improvements anywhere for a long while). The control panel is what caught my attention- it was mechanical. To select a floor you had to press a button, which physically depressed into the panel. We selected our floors, 3 and 6. The fun part was when we got to the 3rd floor and the door opened, the control panel completely reset, meaning that the selection for floor 6 was erased as that button popped out. I had to reselect my floor, 6, by again depressing the button. I had never encountered such a system before, most likely because elsewhere in the world these old mechanical systems had been replaced decades ago. I could not help myself and immediately started laughing – perhaps I am easily amused- but it struck me as funny. A sense of humor is a definite asset for Russia, as I would find out over and over again.
The apartment building had a bit of a feel of a college dormitory. There was a large group of us there together at any one time, around 20 or so, due to the fact that we were ramping up operations, requiring a lot of manpower. In the group were varying levels of Russian language capability although everyone had a eager curiosity to explore the city. Living in and learning to get around the city was a great adventure as well as a group project. Moscow in 1998 had no superstores, no grocery stores in the western sense, and restaurants were hard to find, although becoming more prevalent. In addition there were no yellow pages, no local internet to speak of, and with no advertisements of any kind the only way to find things was to stumble across them. Consequently whenever someone in the group found, for example, a place to buy umbrellas, that information was quickly disseminated. We basically slowly established a collective brain. (Formally this is known as a “high-context” society, as I found out later in cultural training!) You had to be a true explorer because most of the time behind large forbidding doors leading to the bowels of a seemingly dilapidated building would be a produce store, a jewelry store, or a money exchange or a good Italian restaurant. Nothing could be taken at face value. You would find yourself poking your head into various places, trying to increase the data base of the collective. It was always an adventure because you never knew what you would find or where you would find it. Slowly over time and many excursions our knowledge of the city increased and we became more and more comfortable getting around. SInce 1998, of course, Moscow has evolved into a modern European city, but that is another story.
St. Basil's in Red Square