Saturday, March 27
Six years ago, almost to the day, I took a group of University of Notre Dame students studying in London on a week-long trip to the Soviet Union. Now, with my wife and son, I meet at Heathrow with the group of 30 currently in our London spring program to embark on a similar adventure. Our tour has been arranged by Intourist, formerly the state-run USSR tourist agency famous for sullen and inflexible service. So far Intourist has been polite and efficient. Is there a new Intourist? More importantly, is there a new Russia?
And is there a new Aeroflot? Now 30 percent owned by British Air, Aeroflot supposedly has become far more customer-conscious now that it has to compete for customers. And, indeed, the plane is clean, seats reasonably comfortable, flight attendants smile, and the meal is within the normal range of in-flight meals. Things on board are a far cry from the surly (at best) treatment of six years ago.
This time, “the Russia trip”-a tradition of Notre Dame’s London program, which I am directing this year-costs about $600 per student for the seven days (including plane fare, transfers, all meals and hotels, plus a number of tours).
Having left on schedule at 3 p.m., we cross three time zones and arrive in St. Petersburg (Leningrad when I was last here) three hours later at 9 p.m. It is 34 degrees Fahrenheit. The long lines at passport control leave some arriving passengers standing out in the cold but moves reasonably quickly, and within 20 minutes we are all on our way to pick up our luggage.
A single 25-foot-long belt along one wall delivers the luggage. With 200 passengers piling up for their bags, it is a madhouse. Some people, pushed by the crowd, fall onto the belt. There is no checking of baggage by customs. We see the welcome sign-“Notre College”-in the hands of the Intourist representative. Perhaps the system works.
A bus large enough for our group awaits us. (Six years ago the bus was too small and 20 of us had to wait an hour and a half at 2 a.m. for the bus to return to the airport after dumping its first load.)
The accommodations are two to a room in the centrally located Sovietskaya. Last time our group stayed here it was a bit of a dump, but it seems much nicer now. (Later we learn we are in the new wing of the hotel and that it has become a joint Russian-Finnish project.) There are TVs in the rooms with the European version of MTV but, alas, no CNN. The towels are more like American dish towels, but there are plenty-and the water is hot.
Sunday, March 28
Breakfast is a buffet with scrambled eggs, various sausage or bacon products, lots of different breads. It’s OK.
Our morning trip is to the Hermitage Art Museum. Though costing an extra $18 a person, it is such a fabulous gallery of fine art that I felt it was worth it. Each student had already been charged an extra $30 to handle gratituties, etc. This was an “etc.” We bypass the long line of Russians waiting to enter. We represent, after all, hard currency and therefore have privileged status. One wonders what Russians think of such favored treatment to foreigners. Their faces seem blank.
As advertised, the Hermitage is marvelous. Today is a school holiday so it is filled with students, many on group tours. But the museum is huge enough to absorb us all. The guide (a 30-ish woman named Tanya) wisely concentrates on a few of the better-known exhibits. Then we are given about 30 minutes on our own in the French Impressionist collection-the Russians know what Westerners like.
It is hard to know what the best way to see this vast sprawling museum would be. Perhaps a guided tour of the highlights in the morning and an afternoon wandering around on your own (with a map) would be best. But, I remind myself, this is a tour: one morning equals one museum.
But while looking at the stunning Impressionist collection, we run into the Russian political situation. Boris Yeltsin’s threatened impeachment is being voted on today and we can see out the windows (despite the puzzling efforts of the ladies who guard the individual rooms to pull down the drapes) the demonstrations going on in the square behind the museum. On one side is an anti-Yeltsin demonstration and on the other, separated by police, a pro-Yeltsin group is organizing. Placards, knots of people, obvious agitation-the students are fascinated.
Afterwards, we head for our bus. To get to the parking area we have to go around the edges of the demonstrators. By now the anti-Yeltsin meeting is over and the pro-Yeltsin one is in progress. Speakers harangue the crowd of perhaps 2,000 and we hear the words “democracy” and “Yeltsin” a great deal. Some of the students fearlessly plunge into the crowd and are given some pro-Yelstin posters.
We have lunch back at the hotel: mashed potatoes, some kind of meat, sardines, bread, excellent ice cream. The food is better than I remember from six years ago. Waiters will sell you a Pepsi for a dollar. No one is interested in pounds or marks-the dollar is king. Plastic and travelers checks are spurned.
This afternoon is a bus tour of the city. We start with a visit to a Greek Orthodox Church where a service is underway. The students are awe-struck by the pageantry, gilded decorations and icon-laden interior, but quite uncomfortable as observers of a ceremony in which they are not participating.
As part of this city tour, I also had particularly asked to visit St. Isaac’s Cathedral which had much impressed me last time. According to the guide it now costs $8 a person to visit. I don’t want to ask the students to spend that much and express my disappointment. She says she knows one of the women who takes tickets-she will see what she can do.
So while we take pictures in front, Tanya dashes in. She returns with word that her friend is, indeed, on duty and that a $10 bill will get us all in. This is called a bribe. I pay the $10. St. Isaac’s is impressive with its columns faced with malachite and lapis, its mosaics and paintings. No pictures allowed. (Every tourist spot seems to have different rules as to cameras-sometimes changing from room to room for no apparent reason.)
As we proceed to other stops in St. Petersburg, the students began to get some feel for this fascinating city with its mixture of Western and Russian influences. Unfortunately, late March is not the optimum time to see its beauty. We see dirty piles of snow and gloomy skies.
As we board the bus after dinner, the guide unhappily informs us that Yeltsin has been impeached. The news surprises me because most of the articles I had read recently had indicated it would be very hard to get the required two-thirds majority against him. I tell the students-as nicely as I can without insulting the guide-that she has told us this but that I have some reservations as to the accuracy of the report.
For the evening, the students had the choice of $8 options-the ballet (“Giselle”) or a visit to a jazz club. Half select the ballet and the bus driver gets us there in time, then takes the other group on to the jazz club. The music of the ballet is on tape (and too loud) but the dancing is pretty good. Some of the students complain about the quality of the ballet and, of course, they are correct in thinking it wasn’t the Kirov. After the ballet, to my relief, the bus is there for us and we swing by the jazz club and pick up the other students. Five of them decide to stay at the club and get a cab home. This worries me a bit but I let them. Most report the club was an interesting experience although there are complaints of rudeness and some disappointment as to the quality of the live music.
Back at the hotel we watch the Russian television news channel, not understanding a word. But we see the parliamentary vote and pictures of a rather solemn Yelstin at a rally after the vote. I finally decide the guide must be right-he was impeached. This means we are in a country where the most basic question-“who governs?”-is up for grabs. I call the consulate night number to see if there are any instructions for tourists. We are told to call back in the morning.
Monday, March 29
The morning word from the consulate is that the political situation is a domestic problem, and tourists and business people should go on with their activities.
Today we have a surly bus driver who wants money for gas. Alan Steel, a Scotsman working for a group that contracts to Intourist, gives him some and we are off. When I ask Alan about the political situation, he says not to worry; the place is always in crisis.
We spend our morning in the Russian Museum-the primary repository for Russian art. Nice, though crowded. But I note that the socialist realism art of the Bolshevik period now is gone.
Back to the hotel for lunch. French fries and some kind of meat. Not bad, though quite a few students do as I do and leave a good deal of food on their plates.
Then off to Peter and Paul Fortress for our afternoon trip. Very cold and windy: I wish I had worn a sweater under my heavy coat. The impressive cathedral, where most of the later czars are buried, is being re-gilded. We then toured the prison where so many political dissidents spent time. The cells have been fixed up a bit since my last visit.
Then the students had 45 minutes-which turned into an hour-to check out the many peddlers outside the Fortress. For $19, my wife bought two lacquer boxes; for another $10, she got a matrushka doll of Russian political leaders (Lenin to Yelstin) and some hair barrettes. My 14-year-old son bought a sailor’s hat ($3) and navy officer’s jacket ($12). He was ecstatic. Many of the students bought similar stuff. This fascinaton with Russian military uniforms and equipment baffles me.
The circus is scheduled for tonight. During our previous visit my wife was shocked at the treatment of the animals. I missed it last time, and since I don’t want to see the animals abused I miss it again. Upon their return, the students-one wearing a fox hat she bought ($10) at the circus-offer similar complaints.
Not surprisingly, the students by now have found the bar on the top of the hotel where they accept rubles-and hence things are cheaper than in the hard currency bar where a beer is $2. One of the students, I am told, has gotten to know some of the waiters. This bothers me because I have this stereotype of people around Russian hotels trying to rip people off, but I don’t say anything.
Twenty-one of the 30 in our group sign up for the next day’s trip to the summer palace at Pushkin outside St. Petersburg. The cost is $12, which we hadn’t expected. I don’t pressure anyone to go because I am annoyed at the extra cost. I had told the students before we left that-depending on how many souvenirs they bought-$100 would be enough money. To save money (and have an adventure), a few of the others plan to make the train trip to the palace on their own.
Tuesday, March 30
I call the consulate this morning for an update on the local situation and get the same advice as yesterday.
Before our afternoon outing, we have several hours for shopping on Nevskiy Prospect Street. We are easily recognizable as foreigners so we are frequently approached to buy things with hard currency rather than rubles.
One student buys an issue of the International Herald Tribune and we find out that Yelstin has not been impeached.
The afternoon trip to the summer palace includes several stops along the way, including the Necropolis with Dostoyevsky’s grave and the battle lines of the city’s dramatic World War II siege. The palace itself, which has been fixed up incredibly well since its almost complete destruction in the war, is fabulous. The group of students traveling on their own finally arrive, though our guide is a bit upset that I have given them such independence.
Back at the hotel, the student who had been friendly with the waiters comes to me. He has discovered that a $50 bill he had agreed to change for one of them is actually a rather crudely altered $5 bill. The waiter is not on duty today, so we talk to our Intourist agent who takes the altered bill and promises to check into it. (The student never got his money back.)
Our next adventure is the overnight train to Moscow. We get on the bus and arrive at the station an hour before the expected 10:45 p.m. departure. We wait 30 minutes beyond that on a busy platform before the train comes. A lot of people seem to be eyeing our luggage.
I am in a cabin for four with my son, an American graduate student who works for Notre Dame in London and a Russian man who has the misfortune of being placed in with the three of us. He speaks little English, but we are all carefully respectful of each other. The students are noisy, and I can’t sleep much.
Wednesday, March 31
A new guide-Vera-is waiting when we get off the train in Moscow. The bus, however, is missing. We form ourselves into a circle around our luggage and wait. The bus is only 30 minutes late, but then it turns out that most of our rooms-which I had been repeatedly assured would be ready when we arrived at 9 a.m.-are not clean yet. So we pile the luggage into three clean rooms and go on to the city tour.
We stop at Lenin’s tomb. The lines are much shorter than six years ago. Vera shows us the wall where most of the leaders and other prominent Communists-such as the American John Reed-are buried. To my surprise, few of the students have seen the movie “Reds” and don’t know who Reed is.
Then it’s back to the hotel for lunch and our delayed check-in. Our hotel, the Salut, is quite far out-a 10-minute walk from the nearest subway stop-but nice, though a lot of rather sleazy characters are hanging around the bars and coffee shops.
Then it’s back downtown to the Kremlin. We walk around and get a tour of the Cathedral of the Archangel Michael. Interesting. At this point the group splits. Most of the group goes to GUM, the big department store, but 12 of us go on an optional tour of the Armory. Absolutely outstanding: jewels, robes, carriages, etc. of the Czars. Amazing place. Well worth the extra $12.
Some of the students decide to stay downtown and try to get Bolshoi tickets. Intourist offered them tickets to “Giselle” on Friday night for $30, but these students believe they can get them for less from scalpers before tonight’s performance. They are going to eat at McDonalds.
(The next day I find out they got tickets for about $20, so the Intourist price wasn’t so bad. But they met some Americans who had bought tickets from Intourist for $70. The pricing mechanism is pretty obscure.)
Thursday, April 1
Morning trip to the Pushkin Art Museum. Russian schools are back in session so the exquisite museum is not crowded. There is a wonderful collection of reproductions of great classical sculptures, which were done and brought to Russia for the benefit of its art students, and a good general collection topped by a wonderful show of Impressionists (the other half of the Hermitage collection).
From here we try to change dollars to rubles so we too can have the “Moscow McDonald’s experience.” But the exchange places are closed with signs that say “out of rubles.” Apparently inflation is so great that there simply aren’t enough ruble bills to go around sometimes. The guide and bus driver change enough for us so we can at least have Big Macs and fries. This McDonald’s is an amazing place with at least 75 employees behind the counters and another 10 or so continually cleaning the floors, etc. For better or worse, the food meets American McDonald’s standards.
Then we are dropped off for a couple of hours on Arbat Street. The guidebooks speak of quaint shops and places to eat. But our guide warns that if we buy from street vendors with dollars the “Mafia” will take the dollars away from the vendors.
We are surprised to see a street stretching farther than the eye can see, closed to cars, and jammed with table upon table of goods for sale-though mostly the same goods we have seen elsewhere: chess sets, dolls, military uniforms, handicrafts of all varieties. Except for a Baskin-Robbins, we don’t see much in terms of cafes or coffee shops.
The street swarms with people including gypsy mothers begging and thrusting their children at you as proof of their need. At one point a bank of 50 chanting Hari-Krishnas comes parading up the street. The Russians watch them with little visible reaction.
Because we had had lunch downtown, the hotel gives us a special dinner including champagne (good) and caviar (red, rather largish eggs that most shy away from). Then we were taken to a folk music concert at a 400-person auditorium in another hotel. The concert was sensational. The audience-mostly American-is extraordinarily appreciative.
Friday, April 2
I had suggested we go to the Novadivichy Convent and Cemetery. The convent is mildly interesting, but the main cathedral is closed for renovations. The graveyard, though, is full of history: Khrushchev, Stalin’s wife, Gogol, Chekhov, etc. Everyone seems to think it has been an educational morning.
This afternoon I had arranged for a lecture at Moscow University by Roman Setov, a Russian expert on modern U.S./Russian relations who had studied for a year at Notre Dame. His talk-he feels the reforms are being carried out in an inefficient, counterproductive manner-is excellent. The students ask some good questions. He doesn’t believe there will be civil war, but his dark pessimism brings a dose of reality to their picture of what is happening.
Tonight the students decide en masse to go to the ballet on their own.
I arrange (for an extra $10 to the driver) to have the bus drop a handful of us at the hotel and the students downtown near McDonalds and the ballet. (Like the group on Wednesday night, they all end up getting tickets for about $20.)
After dinner at the hotel, they give us 30 breakfast packages-an orange, salami, pickle, two hard boiled eggs and a large Russian version of a bagel-to eat on the bus tomorrow on the way to the airport.
Saturday, April 3
We arrived the appropriate two hours before our Aeroflot flight, elbow our way into the crowds and through customs. We had an excellent flight back to London on a jumbo aircraft. The food aboard was exceptionally good. Oddly, the cheese was from Tennessee and its wrapper from France.
Several students asked me how different Russia was from six years ago. Certainly there were some differences: Aeroflot was much more efficiently operated, Intourist seemed responsive to our needs, the hotels were better and more people in the hotels at least tried to smile. The proliferation of street peedlers and kiosks was amazing. There were far more foreign cars on the road.
So for the tourists, the reforms are working. But for the Russians?
There were few signs of new construction, the people still seemed un-Western (particularly in Moscow), and the standard of living clearly is not better. Each Russian we spoke to seemed to have a different version of what was happening-differing complaints and a variety of explanations.
Yet we returned realizing that nothing a tourist sees in a week’s visit can do much to show how deep the changes really are.
Cover caption:
Collage by Laura Tarrish (photo by Bob Valentine)
The Soviet Union and its hammer-and-sickle flag have faded away. But is there a new Russia? These Notre Dame students, posing in front of a giant cannon in the Kremlin, went to find out.
