Back in the (former) USSR

Where've I been? Busy month, including a recently completed trip back to the U.S. of A. to get my Russian visa renewed. Going back for the first time in 11 months was quite a trip... some observations:

America has gotten kinda pudgy...: Here in Moscow you often hear jokes about fat Americans, but it seems that the kernel of truth behind this really is the size of a watermelon. This is what happens when you insist on development that forces you drive everywhere.

... But it still smells nice: I noticed something alarming on the escalator descending into a Washington Metro station. It was that strange, chemical cleanser odor these hermetically sealed concrete tubes have at certain times of the day. It takes me back. If you've seen photos of Moscow's Metro, you know all about the chandeliers and the charming bas relief depictions of Soviet labor. You don't see that every tiny corner stinks like urine (despite, oddly, the overwhelming number of cops standing around at all hours looking menacing). Plus, every subway car once fully loaded (which is always, basically) smells like dirty laundry, B.O., and sweated-out booze.

America really is a Bennetton ad: I had a very long layover at JFK, and spent a little while at a bar in the terminal. Now, for many months in Moscow, it felt like I kept seeing the same person over and over again. So when I first got off the plane, it was quite disorienting to interact with the three people working behind the bar. Mostly it was because it had been a long time since I'd met service industry workers who smiled, chatted, and made eye contact. But also, I couldn't seem to figure out what ethnicity they were. I asked: one El Salvadoran immigrant, one African-American/Dominican, one Italian/Puerto Rican. I think this is awesome.

Crap, that economic crisis is for real: The only firsthand experience I have of the collapsing American economy is watching the dollar's horrendous slide in the past few weeks. But seeing all the "for sale" and "foreclosure" signs around was a real eye-opener. And gas prices!

People seem to have tuned in to politics for a sec: Since all my political news comes from the Internet, an on-demand medium, I was happy to see that everyone back home really seem to be paying attention. I saw it in the media mostly, and granted I was in Washington, but I actually overheard people having heated discussion on the street about Obama and Hillary. (And I have to say, it was an honor to have heard Obama's speech in Philadelphia about the "Wright Controversy." I'm amazed that an American politician in this day and age would take the chilling risk of speaking to the people like they are adults. I hope it doesn't backfire on him.)

Sour cream is still not a major food group: I ate a variety of foods and never once ingested smetana. I also ate seasonings other than dill, including some spices native to warmer climates that caused me no long-term damage. I am still alive.

Three cheers for "Plain Janes": Russian girls lately have developed a reputation for being more "glamorous" than their western peers, and frankly, they can keep it. Not once in the States did I see a woman wearing clothes with unnecessary buckles, frills, straps, corsets or precarious and dangerous heels. Many girls did not appear to have spent an hour on their hair that morning, nor that they applied their makeup with masonry tools. And despite such post-feminist carelessness, there were lots of pretty girls out there. Go fig.

Thank god there is still a place where no one knows what the "World Fashion Channel" is: In Moscow, every single public eating space will feature at least one -- usually more -- mounted plasma screen television tuned to something called the "World Fashion Channel." It is some kind of satellite channel that specializes in endless loops of models strutting on the catwalk, and interviews with various fashion "celebrities" in exotic European locations. I don't know what secret hypnotic power it holds over Russians when they wolf down their borshch and black bread in public, but I suspect it is really dangerous.

'Don't be afraid to turn the corner...'

All those copy-editors nervous about fitting "Zhirinovsky" in a banner headline can sleep easy. Dmitry Medvedev won, and which ever number the Central Election Commission settles on tomorrow is academic. We knew all along it would be in the low 60's -- well over the threshold to avoid a run-off, safely below Putin's 70 percent in 2004.**

As I noted earlier, there was no real excitement or interest in this election. Why bother? Elections here at best ratify previously made decisions; you don't choose anything. There's no uncertainty or drama. The only question was turnout, which if high enough could add some legitimacy to this particular episode in the development of "sovereign democracy."

But you'd still go see plays by Shakespeare or Chekhov even though you may know them by heart. So, how'd the most stage-managed transfer of power I've ever seen up close go off?

All day was like any other Sunday. It's been warmer here lately -- a little over 0 degrees. So it is the season of wet and melting already, when the four months-worth of cigarette-butts, beer cans, bottle caps, and gum wrappers that have hibernated in snow banks resurface. It is by no means spring, but isn't as clear and precise as winter either.

The television channels were set to begin election coverage at 9 p.m. We had on First Channel, and they had an elaborate count-down clock to tick off the seconds until the hour came. When it did, we saw numbers very similar to what the polls had predicted. Amazing.

There was really no point in paying close attention to the talking head chatter. We were busy feeding our daughter, giving her a bath, and checking in every now and then.

It seemed there was a concert near Red Square, where a who's-who of shitty pop singers were lip-synching along to songs about Russia "charging forward." Among them was Dima Kuldun, who my readers may remember for his performance at Eurovision 2007 -- for Belarus -- "working his magic." (That song, by the way, was written by Fillip Kirkorov, who last week was named a "People's Artist of Russia." That honored title now officially means nothing.)

A little later, I checked in with the 'Vesti' channel, a state-run all-news program. They actually ran a 25-minute long segment about how Russian celebrities voted. Not about how they voted, but just that they did actually vote (Remember, choices can be engineered, but turnout is much harder!). We saw director (and jackass) Nikita Mikhalkov, ballet legend Maya Plisetskaya, figure skater Evgeny Plushenko, and other stars of stage, screen, government stage, etc.. For each, they were shown walking into their polling place, where they'd produce their passport (just like ordinary people!) and then insert their completed ballot in the box. Then they would say something soulful about the importance of speaking out for RUssia's future.

It rapidly became difficult to pay attention anymore. We vaguely watched on First Channel more coverage of this concert. It was held in a strange location: down by the river, with the stage facing away from Red Square, and the crowd looked up to the stage with St. Basil's and the Spassky Tower behind it. It was immediately clear from the camera angles that it was impossible to tell precisely how many people were there. The ones that were were obviously the Nashi hardcore -- no doubt protected by several cordons of OMON civil servants. You could tell by the abundance of these weird, 10-foot long flexible polls that waving around from key points in the crowd. The flags atop them were a who's-who of obnoxious pro-Kremlin 'political technologies' like "Young Russia" and "Myestnie."

On stage was Lyubeh, the 'gopnik' heroes whose rock-folk-nationalist shtick is increasingly becoming a kind of official soundtrack. They were in the middle of their anthem "Davai Za" when... what's this...

The camera suddenly shifts to the Kremlin's Spassky Gate, and two lone figures are walking out... Can it be? ... why, it's Vladimir Vladimirovich... and Dmitry Anatolyevich!

President and successor stride through a curiously empty Red Square, through a gloomy mix of wet snow and sleet. They are alone together (save for the official state television camera), marching with satisfaction and pride to meet the people down by the river. A few minutes later they are on stage. They say nothing interesting. They go back into the Kremlin. So it goes.

Russian rock legends Mashina Vremeni took the stage next. They cut away after two songs so I don't know what they played next, but if their playlist included their legendary anti-Soviet anthem "Povorot," it would be criminally ironic ...

"We've told ourselves Not to depart from the straight path, But it was destined And frankly, everyone's afraid of change, But here it's all the same"...

"And there's no reason to be afraid If you men have strength within, Set out for this gate, And don't be afraid to turn the corner, Let this road be good."

Meanwhile, I actually can't sleep because I'm so worried about the primaries in Texas and Ohio. ** UPDATE (3/6): Well by golly, the CEC says Medvedev actually won 70.22 percent of the vote. I am actually surprised at how surprised I am at being surprised by anything about these elections.