Politics in Moscow

November 30, 2009 | Observer Staff | Comments 0

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By Nadine Szablya

This summer in Moscow I shared a two-bedroom apartment with a 45-ish year old writer and professor of history and political science and her 20-year-old daughter. We lived in an old Soviet-style apartment building with 18 floors and closet-sized elevators made to hold approximately two people and one tiny dog. The apartment itself was nice, though not by American standards. The flooring throughout most of the house was trashed wooden parquet, pulling up from the ground in spots. The walls were lined with stained plywood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and had been covered up with lots of pictures of my host when she was young, or pictures of her daughter, or her friend’s children. There were pictures of places visited, outdated maps of various countries, random scribbles and childhood graffiti, and other things that made my host family smile. There were piles of newspapers and books everywhere. Technically, the toilet worked, but the lid to the tank was long gone, and you had to both pull and then push this pin inside the tank to get it to flush. The adjacent bathroom was tiled – bright blue with a matching sink and tub, although the sink hadn’t worked in years. It also doubled as a laundry room.

One Friday night, I was in the bathroom, mid- first-Russian-washing-my-clothes-by-hand-experience and trying to figure out how to get the last of the soap out of my jeans when there was a knock on the door. I was startled and opened the door cautiously to find a tallish man, about my age, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and with the beginnings of a moustache. He had absolutely no qualms about beckoning me from the bathroom with a knock followed by a sullen expression. I had never seen him before. He introduced himself as Valode and then said something to me in Russian that I gathered was some sort of invitation. From the kitchen, I heard the professor calling and inviting me in.

In the kitchen on the table there was this beautiful, white, pink, and yellow cake, three cups of tea, and three plates. Valode, a man who looked well versed in the dark arts, was inviting me to join them for his birthday.

We sat and ate this very strange, but very good cake that was layered with a sweet peanut- flavored frosting and this really yummy Styrofoam-like pastry. And we talked about… politics. I absolutely enjoy the Russian practice of skipping the niceties and delving right into an American’s worst nightmare of a conversation. I believe that in the Russian mind, the best way to get to know someone is through a series of the following questions. 1) What is your name? 2) Where do you (and every generation of your family) come from? 3) Where do you stand on politics?

This was a new kind of political conversation though. Valode said he had met many American men, but never an American girl, and he wanted to know my opinion of everything. I stumbled over where to begin in explaining my views on such a broad topic, and was quickly prompted to answer the forefront question in every Russian mind upon meeting an American – how do I feel about Obama? We promptly exhausted my Russian vocabulary on the topic, allowing me to turn the tables, asking them their views on American politics. Valode really wasn’t sure how to answer, but my host, as a professor of history and political science, was apt and happy to catalog everything wrong with this great free nation of ours.

She listed, without hesitation, the following:

Number One. Americans are not smart about the decisions they make and, as a young nation we have no sense of real history.

Number Two. Americans have global control.

Number Three. Americans don’t have any real strategy when it comes to international relations.
I was then asked my thoughts on what might be the fourth thing wrong with American politics. I love being put on the spot when people know that you are in graduate school, studying international relations. Not only do they want to know your opinion, but have also stacked every question to set you up for failure. It’s a game really. “Well, this person is supposed to know everything about everything in the history of international relations, so I’m going to stump them and show I know more than they do.” Try playing this game in Russian. It’s even better. I mumbled something about U.S. politics of the last 8 years as my easy-out fourth choice. You can’t imagine how hard it is to explain these things with the vocabulary of a fourth grader.

Back to Americans not having a sense of strategy globally. According to Valode, this is because we do not study chess when we are children. He asked me if I know how to play chess. I do understand the basics of the game, but not wanting to invite another challenge to my intelligence and the intelligence of all Americans, I said no. And then it was settled. We were going to play chess and he was going to teach me. So on this unassuming Friday night, instead of going out to weave my way through another bizarre and colorful night in the infamous debauchery of riotous Moscow, I learned the “classic” strategy of chess… po – Russki! There was very little help from a dictionary. We played out all kinds of strategies and spoke literally maybe five English words all night. Two of these were something that he learned somewhere else – “cool move.” Every time I would make a strategically respectable move he would say, “cool move,” slowly and in a very heavy Russian accent. And every time I was getting myself into trouble he would say ehhhh… His helpful grunts were clearly designed to give me just enough confidence and direction to make the game interesting while preserving victory for himself. About seven-eighths of the way through the game I started thinking the full five moves ahead and saw a bright little glimmering spot of hope on the board. Innocently enough, I declined his advice and ignored his protests and played those five moves through. In the end, much to Valode’s dismay, I won.

Number four? Americans do not know how to play chess.

For more bizarre anecdotes of politics and people from my first time in Moscow visit: www.nadineinrussia.blogspot.com.

Nadine Szablya is a 2nd year MA candidate in Russian and Eurasian Studies.

Filed Under: September 2009