Things you don't see in D.C.

Today, as I was walking back to the office from lunch, a Russian kid (I'd guess he was 10 or 11) stood taking a whiz just off the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the food traffic that streamed (excuse the pun) by him.  Now, I work in a fairly busy area of Moscow.  Not Times Square busy, mind you, but pretty busy.  For the D.C. readers, I'd equate the area of my office to be something like the 13th and New York area where I previously worked at the DOJ.  By his appearance and demeanor, this kid wasn't homeless -- he had his school uniform on and he was making a fairly lame attempt to hide behind a tree on the sidewalk.  In all my years of living in D.C. and Chicago, and in visiting New York City, I've never seen such a brazen pisser in my entire life.  I'm not sure what surprised me more -- the pisser, the people on the sidewalk who walked by without a second glance, or the fact that I found myself vaguely unsurprised about the whole thing.  I've been in Moscow for a month -- have I already become that jaded?

I've been writing about the contradictions in Moscow at length in this blog.  I'm by no means an expert on Moscow, Russia, or Russians,  But I can tell you that my one month here has so far shown me that Russians are caught between two worlds -- the Western one with it's gaudiness and wealth, and another one where kids freely piss on public sidewalks and street cleaners still clean up leaves with rakes made out of tree branches and sticks.  That's right, Moscow city workers still doesn't use brooms.  I'm willing to bet that if a delegation from the UN or Washington came to town, all of the street cleaners would be given new, commercially made rakes.  I guess that's the best part of working and living in Moscow on my own -- I get to see the real Moscow.  The kind of place where women wearing a $50,000 fur coat and a $10,000 pair of shoes walk by a roaming pack of street dogs without batting an eye. 

The one lasting impression I've taken with me so far is the disparity in wealth and status in this country.  Surprisingly, at least to me, even more so than the United States.  The wealthy are extremely wealthy, and like to show it off.  The poor are extremely poor, but it's hard to find the middle class in Russia.  Most if not all of the so-called Russian middle class, from what my colleagues tell me, live far outside the city center.  I'd say it's like Manhattan, but that doesn't quite capture it.  To a large degree, especially after the crash of the ruble in 1998, people seem to live for the day, not worrying about tomorrow.  As I've written about before, capitalism -- making a buck -- is what really rules the everyday lives of Muscovites.  People seem to care less about what is happening politically (internationally or domestically).  All they really care about is getting paid and spending the money.  Saving seems to be an afterthought for many Russians, at least in Moscow.  For example, at the training that the ABA put on regarding the European Court of Human Rights one attorney spent the entire four days asking questions about how he could be paid and reimbursed for representing a client before the Court.  It got to be a running joke anytime this guy raised his hand to ask a question -- we all knew a question about money was coming.  He could care less that his client had been tortured by the police or that the conviction of his client was based on planted evidence.  This guy just wanted to know when the meal ticket was coming.  I've never experienced anything like that, especially in a human rights seminar, for god's sake.  In any event, there is a huge disparity of wealth.  On the way home from work the other night, while waiting to cross at an intersection, an old, Soviet-style gypsy cab rear ended a shiny new black Lexus SUV near my apartment.  The taxi was hardly worse for wear.  The Lexus' tail end was seriously caved in.  I was worried that someone might be hurt.  The two old guys standing next to me on the sidewalk just started laughing their asses off, clearly amused that the old taxi had crushed the luxury car of one of the "New Rich" Russians.  Score one for the regular Russians, I guess.  The social and economic dynamics of this place are very strange, and I'm still adjusting.

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[Dad]

This car experience is like Denny Gillows luxury Van backing out of the Manton Shell into a sheriff's car. Dad