Commentary - pcgazette.com

Commentary
pcgazette.com

Russian countryside gray, but people friendly

By JIM SCHUH
of The Gazette
Even though the Russian sky is blue and the trees and grass are green, some of what I remember about my recent trip to the former Soviet Union is a lot of gray. There's drabness in the country, even on sunny days. I think it's the look of cities and towns, but it also could be the national mood. Still, when you meet them, Russian people are among the warmest and friendliest on our sphere.

I was privileged to join several others for an educational mission to Rostov-Veliky, Stevens Point's Russian Sister City two weeks ago. Since our return, people have asked me what Russia is like - it's a place not many around here have seen. I can't easily describe my experience with a few words.

We landed in Moscow, where the airport is dreary and vestiges of the old Soviet days remain - long lines, bureaucracy, that kind of thing. You get the feeling that the passport control officers think they're doing you a big favor by letting you in. That's in sharp contrast to the pleasant welcome you receive from immigration people when returning to the United States, or even at the Amsterdam airport, our jumping-off point to Russia.

Once we had retrieved our luggage, we found and boarded a creaky, old gray bus for our four-hour trip to Rostov along bumpy roads that frequently threatened the remaining stability of our vehicle. A member of our party later confessed his concerns that an axle surely would break after the bus struck one of many potholes and leave us stranded in the middle of nowhere. Some of us even wondered if we suffered permanent spine damage from some of our jarring bus rides.

Among the first things a newcomer to Moscow notices is the incredible pollution from vehicular exhaust. It's especially bad when you're caught in rush hour traffic jams, as we were. We quickly noticed that drivers seem to feel they have sole rights to the pavement. Only the most brazen pedestrian would dare to try crossing a street ahead of an oncoming car. Russian drivers not only threaten pedestrians - they also speed. Later during our trip, our driver managed to get his car up to 110 km/h (almost 70 mph) - still in the city - as bicycle riders, pedestrians and children moved and played along either side of the two-lane road.

Wherever we traveled, we saw identical and unattractive gray apartment buildings. Most were large, five-story walkups, standing in groups of four or five. They're not well maintained, and neither is the green space around them. But they do accomplish their intended purpose as shelter for their occupants.

I was fortunate to spend four nights at the fourth floor, three-room apartment of a 43-year old widow, Natasha Ryzhenkova and her 16-year-old daughter, Luba, who attended SPASH during the spring semester while staying with the Ray and Nancy Schmidt family. The Ryzhenkovas have hosted Americans before. Luba has very good English skills and easily bridged the language gap between her mother and me, while Natasha tried hard to communicate with the English words she knows. The Ryzhenkovas were most gracious - providing me with wonderful Russian meals, including hearty breakfasts of omelettes filled with chunks of tasty Russian sausages, sliced cucumbers, oranges and lemons, corn flakes, cheese and sausage slices and even curds with sour cream topping. Although I arrived at the apartment about 10:30 at night, Natasha had a welcoming dinner waiting for me. She offered vodka, but I opted for a beer after the long trip. Luba gave me her bedroom, and she slept on an outside porch while I was there. Natasha's usual resting place is on a foldout living room sofa. The nights were warm and humid, and there were no cooling air conditioners or fans. One small bedroom window - perhaps 8-inches square - was open and provided the only outside air. It also served as an entrance for mosquitoes.

The Ryzhenkovas quickly made me feel right at home. Luba and I discussed friends and teachers at SPASH and her host family. I also felt comfortable because I decided before leaving home that I'd accept whatever circumstances I encountered just as they were. In retrospect, it was the right thing to do, and it served me well.

Some things about life in Rostov and elsewhere in Russia are troubling. As I walked down the street, I quickly noticed that most old people looked unhappy or even despondent, as they trudged along with shopping bags in each hand. Luba explained that the country's seniors get only a small pension, so life is difficult for them. The national average pension is less than $40 a month.

The economic situation even has some people regretting the collapse of the former Soviet Union. A recent Milwaukee Journal Sentinel report on the Soviet breakup 10 years ago carried this headline: "Republics find independence has price - Widening gap between rich, poor has some missing Communist rule."

Let's hope things change quickly so more Russians can sport their wide, warm smiles and put the past to rest.

You may reach Jim Schuh at The Gazette, or by e-mail at jpschuh@excite.com.



	Russian countryside gray, but people friendly By JIM SCHUH of The Gazette Even though the Russian sky is blue and the trees and grass are green, some of what I remember about my recent trip to the former Soviet Union is a lot of gray. There's drabness in the country, even on sunny days. I think it's the look of cities and towns, but it also could be the national mood. Still, when you meet them, Russian people are among the warmest and friendliest on our sphere. I was privileged to join several others for an educational mission to Rostov-Veliky, Stevens Point's Russian Sister City two weeks ago. Since our return, people have asked me what Russia is like - it's a place not many around here have seen. I can't easily describe my experience with a few words. We landed in Moscow, where the airport is dreary and vestiges of the old Soviet days remain - long lines, bureaucracy, that kind of thing. You get the feeling that the passport control officers think they're doing you a big favor by letting you in. That's in sharp contrast to the pleasant welcome you receive from immigration people when returning to the United States, or even at the Amsterdam airport, our jumping-off point to Russia. Once we had retrieved our luggage, we found and boarded a creaky, old gray bus for our four-hour trip to Rostov along bumpy roads that frequently threatened the remaining stability of our vehicle. A member of our party later confessed his concerns that an axle surely would break after the bus struck one of many potholes and leave us stranded in the middle of nowhere. Some of us even wondered if we suffered permanent spine damage from some of our jarring bus rides. Among the first things a newcomer to Moscow notices is the incredible pollution from vehicular exhaust. It's especially bad when you're caught in rush hour traffic jams, as we were. We quickly noticed that drivers seem to feel they have sole rights to the pavement. Only the most brazen pedestrian would dare to try crossing a street ahead of an oncoming car. Russian drivers not only threaten pedestrians - they also speed. Later during our trip, our driver managed to get his car up to 110 km/h (almost 70 mph) - still in the city - as bicycle riders, pedestrians and children moved and played along either side of the two-lane road. Wherever we traveled, we saw identical and unattractive gray apartment buildings. Most were large, five-story walkups, standing in groups of four or five. They're not well maintained, and neither is the green space around them. But they do accomplish their intended purpose as shelter for their occupants. I was fortunate to spend four nights at the fourth floor, three-room apartment of a 43-year old widow, Natasha Ryzhenkova and her 16-year-old daughter, Luba, who attended SPASH during the spring semester while staying with the Ray and Nancy Schmidt family. The Ryzhenkovas have hosted Americans before. Luba has very good English skills and easily bridged the language gap between her mother and me, while Natasha tried hard to communicate with the English words she knows. The Ryzhenkovas were most gracious - providing me with wonderful Russian meals, including hearty breakfasts of omelettes filled with chunks of tasty Russian sausages, sliced cucumbers, oranges and lemons, corn flakes, cheese and sausage slices and even curds with sour cream topping. Although I arrived at the apartment about 10:30 at night, Natasha had a welcoming dinner waiting for me. She offered vodka, but I opted for a beer after the long trip. Luba gave me her bedroom, and she slept on an outside porch while I was there. Natasha's usual resting place is on a foldout living room sofa. The nights were warm and humid, and there were no cooling air conditioners or fans. One small bedroom window - perhaps 8-inches square - was open and provided the only outside air. It also served as an entrance for mosquitoes. The Ryzhenkovas quickly made me feel right at home. Luba and I discussed friends and teachers at SPASH and her host family. I also felt comfortable because I decided before leaving home that I'd accept whatever circumstances I encountered just as they were. In retrospect, it was the right thing to do, and it served me well. Some things about life in Rostov and elsewhere in Russia are troubling. As I walked down the street, I quickly noticed that most old people looked unhappy or even despondent, as they trudged along with shopping bags in each hand. Luba explained that the country's seniors get only a small pension, so life is difficult for them. The national average pension is less than $40 a month. The economic situation even has some people regretting the collapse of the former Soviet Union. A recent Milwaukee Journal Sentinel report on the Soviet breakup 10 years ago carried this headline: "Republics find independence has price - Widening gap between rich, poor has some missing Communist rule." Let's hope things change quickly so more Russians can sport their wide, warm smiles and put the past to rest. You may reach Jim Schuh at The Gazette, or by e-mail at jpschuh@excite.com.