Three reasons I like Russia so far:
- They celebrate Pancake Week instead of Pancake Day.
- You can walk on the rivers because they are frozen.
- They have diminutives for every name. Sasha for Alexandra, Vanja for Ivan, Ksusha for Ksenia... I wanted to call myself Kasha until I found out it means porridge.
The Russian’s have a wonderful knack of combining the practical and dramatic. Everyone is very direct and smiles aren’t wasted but if you get one you know it’s from the heart. A negative answer is given with a look of upset, the reactions I got when asking for directions en route to Rima and Serkhan’s made me think I’d physically hurt the person I put the question to.
After being lost for an hour and being short changed by the bus driver I finally found the correct floor and door in a towering Soviet-era block. My host, the lovely Rima hugged me like a long lost child while ushering me to put on some colourful indoor slippers, handing the house keys and feeding me a hearty portion of blinis, cakes and tea. I expressed a wish to visit the incredible art collection at the Hermitage, to which Rima’s husband, Serkhan, who in a past life used to be a DJ spinning Pink Floyd tunes generously drove me.
Speaking of Apocalypse, on a darker note, before my travels one of the things I knew about Russia was a poor record in dealing with domestic violence. In the last decade the issue has been raised in international headlines several times. Bear with me.
But the internet doesn’t give much in how domestic abuse is dealt with in Russia in 2012. Due to lack of evidence to the contrary, it’s hard to believe in radical improvements. Articles from 2011 say there are just 25 women’s refuges offering space for a total of 200 women in a country of 142 million people. It is reported a woman dies of domestic abuse every 40 minutes.
With this in mind I was surprised to find International Women’s Day in Russia a public holiday. Filled with sunshine, happy couples, heart shaped balloons and flowers the day is a mixture of Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day and according to Serkhan second only to New Year. The juxtaposition is as great as anything I have found in Russia so far.
On my final day here I went on a walking tour arranged by local students. We strolled amongst the thousands of palaces and frozen parks stopping to follow local tradition to throw a coin at a seemingly random statue of a rabbit on the way to Peter and Paul Fortress. I met Ksenia during this walk, a 21-year old language student who looks uncannily like a young princess Victoria of Sweden. Originally from Siberia she spoke with pride about her Russia and how she and her generation wish for change and a better future. She told me how she believes in the talent of her people and wishes for a ground to nurture this talent. So far Russia has taken my breath away and I don’t mean the cold weather. With Pink Floyd ringing in my ears as my train pulls out of this city of extremes to the heartland, I hope it’s not up to the rabbit to grant that wish to her or anyone else in this incredible country.
