First Encounters in the USSR
DOBSON, SEAN
A TRAVELER'S NOTEBOOK First Encounters in the USSR BY SEAN DOBSON In our previous issue Peter Kenez, professor of history at the University of California's Santa Cruz campus, reported on his...
...Veteran travelers of the Soviet Uhionreferto this as the"Soyuz Blues...
...Perhaps because of the fine weather, or the better dressed people, or the decreased police presence, the old capital is a relief after Moscow's impersonal high-rises and gray atmosphere...
...They have trouble operating the elevators and appear to be in a constant state of inebriation...
...I hope we can meet again so that we can both learn more...
...I am Volya...
...At least we have chosen something definite, we have a clear sense of identity," hesaid...
...Now he is enrolled at a scientific institute where he is learning to program computers...
...Since the court is located on the corner of a busy intersection, startled Russians stop to watch the crazy foreigner playing basketball on a field of broken glass...
...That is not a possibility, so why even discuss it...
...All is in order," he mumbles, moving to the next compartment...
...But what if...
...They brush me aside easily, thanks to their unusually low center of gravity (average height: 4' 8 ") and my regrettably slight physique...
...Upon applying for an exit visa six years ago, he and his wife lost their jobs as scientists, and their son was denied admission to the institute of his choice...
...Even if they make it to Israel, life will continue to be a struggle...
...The neighbors are very nosy and suspicious...
...Dozens of construction cranes break the horizon...
...He soon grew disgusted with this lifestyle of begging favors of Western visitors...
...You and I have similar tastes...
...Everything about you says 'American.'" We leave the station and soon are making our way through one of Moscow's countless high-riseneighborhoods...
...What I had imagined bears little relation to reality: Here a wooden izba, or peasant hut, stands next to a giant modern electrical grid...
...Meeting Boris...
...We look toward the future with some kind of hope...
...After a quick shower I am in the Metro heading downtown to do some shopping...
...The young people I've met tend to marry in their late teens or early 20s...
...If found, it could mean serious trouble for the people who have been so good to me...
...Even intellectuals do not consider changing the system an option...
...It's a lonely city," he confides...
...Like most Soviets, he betrays a shocking lack of knowledge about the U.S...
...I persevere until, bruised and shaken, I leave the church for the journey home...
...I see Sasha almost every day during the remainder of my time in Moscow...
...Once a Russian decides you are his friend, there is nothing he won't gladly give to you...
...He insists that I take him to a beriozka, one of the special hard-currency stores operated exclusively for Westerners that sells superior Western goods...
...The unlucky ones are not the Jews but the Russians themselves...
...It does not seem to occur to them that were he around, he would unceremoniously put a stop to the decadent capitalist ways of his biggest fan club...
...Certainly they are more fashionable...
...and finally Sasha, who showed me so much kindness...
...My favorite," he smiles...
...The guard picks up the book, looks at a few pages, then puts it back...
...He is wearing Moscow's fashion sensation of the summer, badly cut polyester trousers emblazoned with a huge legend in English: "MIKE JACKSON COWBOY STYLE JEANS...
...Once inside, though, he undergoes a startling metamorphosis...
...Many display pictures of Uncle Joe on their dashboards...
...Unlike its lurid portrayal in the novel of the same name, Gorky Park is where Moscow goes to relax...
...After all, I came 5,000 miles to try to understand Soviet culture...
...Handsome and seemingly self-assured, Anton nonetheless nervously scans the room while telling me about himself...
...Anton, reclining on the couch opposite me, is a case in point...
...Occasionally a neon red star pierces the mist...
...Representatives of Intourist, the official Soviet agency that oversees all outside visitors, are on the platform to meet our group, 100 American students who have come to spend the summer in the Pushkin Institute's language program for foreigners...
...Moscow is a thousand miles away...
...He gazes at me blankly for a moment...
...What time and distance will do to my jumbled collection of impressions I cannot begin to guess...
...The discotheques and nightclubs have been shut down as part of the drive against alcoholism...
...Exhausted after four hours of nonstop Russian, I thank my hosts and depart...
...At best, they live now so that their children may someday be free...
...Since it is dangerous for him to call my hotel, he expects me to contact him daily...
...Many are the children ofhigh ranking officials, thus immune to the law, and become "Soviet millionaires...
...SteadmanHinkley, oneof myroom-mates, turns out to be something of an expert on the Soyuz (the "Union," as Soviets tend to call their country...
...Clad in heavy winter coats and kerchiefs regardless of the weather, the ba-bushki are a national institution without counterpart in the world...
...Wemeet several times...
...We agree to get together the next day in Gorky Park...
...Leningrad is coming to life under a rosy, misty dawn the morning our train pulls out of Finland Station bound for Helsinki...
...when he cuts me off...
...compound in the So viet capital, the ambience is understandable...
...What is McDonald's...
...The refusniki speak their minds—at the high price of complete ostracism...
...I ask some passing kids why there is no pavement...
...A large crowd forms...
...Usually weme-ander through Moscow's older neighborhoods and compare notes about our respective countries...
...They say that about six months ago a truck came, erected the baskets and left...
...The slightest offense—an incomplete customs declaration or an unexplained letter—can detain someone, perhaps permanently, at the border...
...The rest of the afternoon passes in similar manner...
...Boris' Western clothes fit his tall, slender frame well...
...You mean there are that many cars in America...
...If I did not, his feelings would be hurt...
...Considering the besieged nature of the U.S...
...I come to these parties because these people are still my friends...
...Propaganda posters, usually covering sides of entire buildings, feature enormous visages of Marx, Engels or Lenin with slogans proclaiming "WE WILL FULFILL THE DECISIONS OF THE 26TH PARTY CONGRESS," or "GLORY TO THE CPSU...
...I notice that half the people on the train are staring at me, no doubt checking out my wardrobe...
...I manage to get some sleep and wake up deciding it is time for a little exercise...
...Although we spend much time analyzing the mechanics of Mikhail S. Gorbachev's success in his power struggle with Grigory V. Romanov and Andrei A. Gromyko, Boris claims no interest in the outcome...
...The refusniki gathered together this evening display enormous breadth of intellect...
...It depicts this "Hero of Socialism" as a Soviet Arnold Schwarzenegger, muscles flexing, jaw jutting, gazing confidently into the distance...
...I meet Sasha at a "Pepsi Kola" stand and we set off for a stroll along the river...
...When he was younger, he too dealt on the black market," because it was exciting and because all my friends did it...
...Babushki invariably comprise about 90 per cent of the churchgoers I encounter in Moscow...
...Sitting in the corner, sipping wine, we settle into a conversation that lasts the rest of the evening...
...Don't worry," helaughs...
...J himself...
...Our discussions range from social life to pop culture to economics to politics...
...Since the souring of relations between the superpowers in 1979, emigration has slowed to a tiny trickle...
...Because he is a refusnik, a Jew who has been refused permission to emigrate to Israel, our meeting could cause serious trouble if detected by the authorities...
...We get such an incomplete picture of li f e in the United States," Sasha explains later on the way to the Metro...
...We are all understandably nervous...
...I can delay no longer...
...Nevertheless, I soon have the urge to leave...
...He tells me that after graduating from Moscow State University he took a fairly good job at a biological institute in the capital...
...Is it true that the American Nazi Party might win the White House in 1988...
...they are huge, fantastic ostriches in a city that is continually "under repair...
...It is in an apartment adorned with Calvin Klein and Perry Ellis advertisements and American flags...
...The Hungarians next door have been partying since they arrived two days ago, and show no sign of stopping...
...He immediately gives me his favorite album as a gift, an early record by the legendary Russian folk singer Vladimir Vysotsky...
...the tragic young black-marketeers, whoso blindly worshipthe West...
...One friend, explaining her logic, sums up the prevailing attitude: "Why should we worry about it...
...I feel dwarfed by the 100-foot tall likeness of cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin...
...Sasha tells me a little about himself...
...Despite being Soviet, Boris gains admittance without difficulty because of his Levi's, Adidas and general bearing...
...But they avoid your eyes the moment you seek theirs, turning stone-faced to the day's Pravda or intently staring at their feet...
...As the vodka and wine begin to flow, the conversation ranges from politics to literature tohistorytoeconomics and back again...
...nice new nets and hoops at the proper height...
...I roll out of my bunk at dawn after a night of fitful sleep on the train from Helsinki...
...But for them, life has always meant struggle...
...To me, her logic underscores a central paradox of Soviet society: In a country where everything is political, nobody cares about politics...
...Mostly I got to know Russians who are disenchanted with life in the USSR...
...My descriptions of drive-in movies and fast-food restaurants amaze him...
...The personal details completed, Sasha again bombards me with questions...
...I feel better knowing that I have somebody I can trust, somebody I can come home to...
...Sasha displays an insatiable curiosity about the West...
...Arriving...
...Volya's story is sad and familiar...
...I am touched that he would offer me such a valuable present having only met me the previous night...
...Moscow's many inconveniences—no hot water, constant indigestion and diarrhea, anxiety, frustration—are having a cumulative effect on me...
...The building is jammed full of gnome-like babushki...
...Boris stares off into space...
...Does everyone own a car...
...In summer, parts of Moscow endure a continual snowstorm of cottonwood fluffs...
...Comrade, I haven't got all day,'' barks a large, impatient proletarian...
...The same Muscovite who might be rude to you in the street will spend his last kopeck on your behalf in his own home...
...Here the wide boulevards, sparkling canals and proximity to Europe give me a sense of freedom I have not felt since arriving in the USSR...
...In the apartment, however, I am greeted by a dozen smiling faces crowded into a cozy, tastefully appointed dining room...
...American flags adorn the walls...
...I am always the youngest person present at the services I goto...
...As I answered his questions, he listens patiently, gently correcting my grammatical errors and supplying Russian words I do not know...
...As an American, I approach this problem from a political angle: The system engenders these long lines, therefore the system must change...
...He and his wife supplement their meager income by translating articles from English to Russian...
...Two summers ago he toured Russia, the Ukraine and the Caucasus in a Volkswagen, and last summer he worked on a collective farm in the Crimea...
...Russians, I discover, can be very possessive of their friends...
...Monday and I'm exhausted...
...Still recovering from that episode, I fail to notice when moments later the train lurches into Finnish territory...
...I order a cheeseburger, medium rare, lettuce and tomato, and a Budweiser...
...We are at the midway point in the Pushkin Institute program and I think I am starting to crack...
...But I put a stop to the Russian tradition of gift-giving after the first week: He is giving me everything of value that he owns...
...Indeed, the Soviets at this party appear more Western than the Westerners present...
...The Soviet Union, until now a place pieced together in my mind from a variety of sources, including readings in Russian literature and college course-work in history and language, is dimly visible through the fog...
...all thosereds, golds, greens, andblues leave me unable to form a definite focus as I survey the scene...
...I choose the historic Kolomenskoye Monastery, The church is divided into three rooms...
...there a row of shiny new tractors abuts a seemingly abandoned freight yard with dozens of railroad cars that sit rusting...
...But most of them are of the generation that fought the War...
...The train slows as we approach the frontier...
...Youcouldseeanunusualstrength in his eyes...
...As far as I can see, reports in the West of a religious revival among young people in the Soviet Union are wishful thinking...
...I'm about to deliver my stock speech—"No, I'm not interested in trading currency...
...Filing past the graves of long-dead aristocrats, I notice a young man rough-lymyageeyingme.Eventually, hecomes over and introduces himself as Boris...
...They do not know whether they will ever be allowed to emigrate...
...I have no luck shopping (the Central Hat Store is out of hats), and I realize I am late for a party on the other side of town...
...Such generosity is typical of Russians...
...I stare nervously at the pay phone dial for several minutes...
...One young man has his eyes riveted on my jeans...
...I soon realize I am not only the youngest person in the church but also by far the tallest...
...Half an hour later I stand on the platform trying to look inconspicuous as I search for Volya among the rush-hour masses...
...Here we present a second report on life in the Soviet capital from a different perspective...
...Jumping from one bit of pavement to the next, we finally reach the American Embassy, where one of us had to pick up a package...
...Still shamelessly taken with myself, I use the Metro car as a runway for parading the latest attire from America—Levi's, Nikes and Izod alligator shirt...
...There is a sharper dichotomy between the public and private self in Moscow than in the U.S...
...My Russian friends begin to file past my mind's eye: the unfortunate, courageous refusniki who may never leave for Israel...
...Hello Sean...
...It hugs the north bank of the Moscow River and accommodates all types, from teenagers with "boom boxes" to young lovers to old men playing chess...
...As a detached American, I am unaccustomed to this intensity at social gatherings, but I quickly abandon my reserve and participate in the melee...
...I am not surprised when Sasha announces that he is planning to get married as soon as he can find an apartment...
...These fartsovschiki constitute something of a subculture in the Soviet Union...
...In one quick glance Russians can determine your nationality and appraise the value of your entire wardrobe...
...For instance, he thinks the Ku Klux Klan is a powerful force in American national politics, and that "fascist politicians in Washington" instigated the Philadelphia police action against Move...
...Soon, I will be back on the other side trying to make sense of this hectic summer...
...Although only 8:30 in the evening, the downtown streets are practically empty...
...about 20 minutes, intoxicated by the array of consumer items...
...Slowly, the tension of just a few minutes ago fades...
...It was very disagreeable to me," he declares...
...I start shooting...
...Collectivization, Stalinist terror and World War II effectively decimated an entire generation of males...
...They act as a kind of collective grandmother to the Soviet Union, helping relatives by minding babies and shopping, and continually monitoring young people for any sign ofnonconformism...
...The image of urbane, educated Boris standing slack-jawed before the Marlboro display rack is indelibly etched in my mind...
...The room is dominated by a picture of the goateed symbol himself, tensing an unnaturally large bicep...
...The attitude perplexes me greatly...
...It's like the weather...
...Walking back to the Metro, I reflect on the profound decency and courage of those present...
...By age 18 he had effectively dropped out of school to devote his full energies to "business...
...A lanky fellow with a crew cut joins us and introduces himself as Sasha...
...Aren't there any fervent Communists left...
...As dawn becomes bright morning this jumbled picture grows more incongruous: High-rise apartment complexes spring up out of nowhere only to be swallowed again by the endless pine forest, and our ultramodern train speeds past peasant villages that recall those in Tolstoy or Turgenev novels...
...Statues and propaganda signs are no less imposing...
...Moscow presents itself on our first view as a kind of Oz, full of spires, onion domes and huge slogans anchored to the roofs of downtown buildings...
...He lives in a fairly standard Moscow building—rundown, with a stairwell smelling of urine...
...The scene repeats itself three times before I wise up and tender a gift (a box of Marlboro) plus the usual fare...
...Here in Russia," he remarks, gesturing toward a dilapidated church on the grounds, "we replaced religion with Communism...
...No matter what Gorbachev does, he will not be able to budge the bureaucracy...
...Those fluffs, mingling with the sunshine on the monastery's golden domes, create a mystical atmosphere for my stroll among the ruins...
...Happily, my wits return...
...The party is being given by a group of fartsovschiki, young black marketeers, who are friends of friends...
...To my surprise, a little old babushka (an elderly woman, or literally "grandmother") sells candles at the back of the funeral room and chats with her customers...
...Muscovites slowed their daily routine for a moment to watch their leaders whisk past...
...Perhaps the most interesting observation I heard during the evening was made by Volya's nephew, Alexei...
...The city seems cloaked in a kind of genteel poverty—like a charming, once-rich uncle who must now rely on the generosity of relatives...
...In the embassy's famous Uncle Sam's Bar Bruce Springsteen is declaring loudly on the jukebox that he was "Born in the USA...
...Inside the church, multi-colored paintings and icons cover every square inch of the ceilings and walls...
...One minute a violent argument breaks out, the next minute the former combatants exchange warm caresses...
...Not until he illegally purchased an apartment on prestigious Kalinin Prospekt did the authorities intervene, but he is back in business and prospering after a mere "slap on the wrist...
...The names of the Russians he mentions in the article have been changed...
...Perhaps," he replies with a shrug...
...I think they may do more to control social deviation than the KGB...
...Many of their former friends no longer associate with them for career reasons...
...They simply drive off if you can't meet their price, or if they do not wish to go in your direction...
...cafes and bars must close by 8 p.m...
...No less than 20,000 families in Moscow alone share a similar fate, Volya notes...
...We have no control over politics...
...We continue our exploration at ground level as a light rain begins to fall, filling the countless potholes of Moscow's streets and sidewalks...
...They worship all things Western, and derive their sustenance from illegally trading currency and goods with Western visitors...
...Moscow, a city of 9 million people, has no night life...
...Avenues are often 10 lanes wide, requiring pedestrians to use underground walkways to cross...
...They are all well read and most are fluent in two or three languages...
...The interconnected rooms have no pews, allowing the devout to flow freely among them...
...I tell him...
...Born by chance in a country with a brutally repressive form of government, Volya and Nina may never have the opportunity to live in freedom and realize their full potential...
...It's 2 a.m...
...I have little difficulty hailing a cab...
...Specially marked Intourist buses take us to our specially assigned rooms at the Sevastopol Hotel, where we have breakfast in a special section of the hotel restaurant...
...I say goodbye and stumble back on to the Prospekt—back into that other world—and soon merge with the Muscovite masses returning home after a day's work...
...Soviet architecture stresses the titanic: enormous buildings, boulevards, monuments, billboards...
...Volya now works as an elevator operator...
...To give us a sense of thecityasawhole, Steadman heads for a cafe atop the vast Hotel Rossiya, close by Red Square...
...My friends in Moscow exist apolitically...
...He staggers about the beriozka for where services are held every Sunday in a completely renovated church...
...As they rifle through my personal belongings, I suddenly remember that my address book, containing the names and telephone numbers of my Russian friends, lies at the bottom of my bag...
...I stand in helpless terror, thunderstruck at my own stupidity...
...I stare back...
...Russians, for example, have to stand in line at food stores every day...
...But now Communism has been replaced by the desire for material goods...
...Marines and other Americans are eating pizza and guzzling beer...
...In the Socialist Fatherland, cab drivers are an island of unbridled, unabashed capitalism...
...In the first a funeral is being held...
...Borrowing a basketball, I proceed to a nearby court that from afar had looked perfect...
...I am surprised that so many friends and relatives have come over just to meet me...
...My lastmeeting with Boris, at the end of the summer, is a sad one...
...The 13th-century walled fortress is wedged between the East German-Soviet Cooperation Institute and an Army barracks...
...Life for us will continue as it always has...
...Many read books on the Metro, always taking care to cover the title with an old newspaper or paper bag...
...His normally calm stare becomes wide-eyed and glassy, and he works himself into a state of extreme agitation...
...Boris, who is determined to make the best of it in a system he knows is absurd...
...At Uncle Sam's the theme is patriotism...
...He speaks English slowly yet elegantly...
...He offers a tour of the sights...
...People my age are interested only in money and Western goods...
...I freeze...
...Going to church . A rainy Sunday provides an opportunity that no visitor to the Soviet Union should miss, attending a service of the Russian Orthodox Church...
...Unexpectedly, the compartment door swings open...
...Then he simply drops the subject...
...Welcome to Finland," saysachub-by, teenaged customs agent...
...I put a stop to this burlesque by buying him a bottle of Jack Daniels...
...Tired but elated, I make my way through the onlookers .Mission accomplished, I tell myself...
...I guess the Ministry of Baskets never contacted the Ministry of Court Surfaces...
...Several of us set off for the center of town on the famed Moscow Metro...
...The urban landscape is at once familiar yet wholly different from any I had known in the West...
...It's their system and they will have to live with it...
...Having decided to go off alone during our first free day, I visit the ancient Donskoy Monastery on the advice of a teacher...
...Above the fully stocked baralargeplacardreads, "Reagan-Bush '84: Bringing America Back...
...The Russians I have met only fully relaxed in the "circle of family...
...To my dismay, the court itself proves to be a stretch of dirt with a generous helping of rocks and glass...
...This kind of secrecy is contagious, and I too will begin to cover my books and magazines as the summer progresses...
...The ancient monastery, sitting on a bluff in the southern part of Moscow, offers a view of the marshes and a distant nuclear power plant...
...Soviet subculture...
...Iusedto deal' on the left,' but I gave that up long ago...
...After shakily dialing the number, I manage to arrange ameet-ing with Volya in a Metro station that is nearby...
...Students there learn on IBM desktop models and program in English-based computer language...
...Russians, by contrast, deal with the situation on a purely personal level: How can I get to know the saleswoman, who will then save me a good piece of meat, etc...
...But I realize my views are colored by the fact that I did not make many real friends among average Soviet citizens...
...Arefusnik story...
...The terrifying moment of my first phone call in Russian has arrived...
...We must speak only Russian from here on," Volya whispers...
...Your question is stupid," he says finally...
...The powerful, mournful strains of the Orthodox hymns and the clouds of incense further inspire an irresistible feeling of piety...
...Huddled around the small dining room table, our discussions go on at something of a fever pitch far into the night...
...The silence is broken by a loud rap on the door of the booth...
...The sweat begins to flow...
...Outside we part ways in a driving, cold rain...
...Unlike other Russians I had gotten to know, these people were able to reject the kind of double personality, or "doublethink," Soviet society demands of the individual...
...Every passing policeman gives me the shivers...
...Their widows today constitute the armies of women that sweep the Metro, scold young hooligans and attend church services...
...We emerge from the station at Marx Prospekt...
...Sean Dobson, a new contributor to the NL, isaYaleUniversity senior majoring in Russian and East European Studies who spent this past summer at the Pushkin Institute...
...The difference, I realize, is in the scale of the city itself...
...I sheepishly offer my own trifle, a bottle of Baily's Irish Cream...
...I have struck a blow for the American way of life...
...Except for his Reebok sneakers, resting conspicuously on the coffee table, he is clad head to foot in Ralph LaurenPolowear...
...He is active in theKomsomol, the Young Communist League, and plans to become a Party member as soon as possible, for "career reasons, of course," His distinguishing characteristic is his complete candor...
...I guess it's pretty silly if you think about it," I replied, realizing how bizarre our own culture must look from the outside...
...Having guests over is an important event for these people...
...Though an average looking fellow, I quickly discover ho w it feels to be an object of curiosity...
...On the Metro ride home I am particularly gloomy...
...The Sevastopol Hotel is full of provincial East Germans and Hungarians in town on vacation...
...Moscow abounds in monstrous stone and concrete structures that sometimes stretch for blocks...
...in the other two services are being conducted...
...Although my age, he was already the father of two and seemed much more mature thanl...
...I'm thinking this could be a scene in a cheap spy movie when a grim looking, middle-aged man approaches me...
...Uniformed guards cordon off the cars and a by now familiar, sickening feeling grips me: the fear of being subject to the arbitrary whim of authority...
...I feel like explaining that it's "Michael Jackson," and that he is hardly a cowboy...
...He speeds off into the night, almost running over my foot...
...My roommates and I smile vacantly at each other, not fully believing that it is all over...
...Later we discover the procession contained most of the Politburo and the General Secretary of the Bulgarian Communist Party, in town to sign a new economic treaty...
...I dunk for the first time since high school...
...The son of a KGB colonel, he was able to amass a small fortune and avoid compulsory Army service by buying a medical report that certified him insane...
...Lackofsleep, Georgian wine and a thickening mist combine to produce a hallucinatory spectacle...
...In some respects, it turns out, he is my Russian counterpart: educated, ambitious, young, upwardly mobile—a Soviet Yuppie, you might say...
...Nevertheless, in a fit of chauvinism that overcomes my better judgment I resolve to give these Muscovites a display of American basketball artistry...
...We all burst out laughing...
...Despite their limited means, Volya and his wife Nina obviously went to great trouble and expense to prepare an elaborate meal: caviar and salad for appetizers, borscht, beef Stroganoff for the main course, followed by delicious ice cream and Moldavian cognac...
...The buildings, almost all of which date from the 19th century, remain charming despite their disrepair...
...Luckily, I find him extremely pleasant and candid...
...Alexei argued, though, that it was from precisely this ostracism that they derive their inner strength...
...From our picture-window perch we notice a long line of police-escorted black limousines speeding toward the Kremlin...
...Other friends I make in the course of my stay react similarly...
...he asks...
...A TRAVELER'S NOTEBOOK First Encounters in the USSR BY SEAN DOBSON In our previous issue Peter Kenez, professor of history at the University of California's Santa Cruz campus, reported on his fourth extended visit to the Soviet Union over the last 15 years ("Moscow Under Gorbachev," NL, October 21...
...I learn that he reads Hemingway and Fitzgerald in the original...
...I'm busy...
...I ask if he would like to change the entire political system...
...They told me that as "Heroes of Socialist Labor" they have been rewarded with an expense-paid trip to Moscow for some rest and relaxation...
...Departing . I have been in Leningrad for five days on the last leg of my stay, and they have all gone by in a blur...
...They jostle each other in determined attempts to get closest to the altar, all the while crossing themselves and mumbling prayers...
...I keep quiet...
...For some strange reason, the guards decide to search every square inch and every bag in the compartment I am in...
...The bereaved seem to pay her no mind...
...How did you know me...
...As city gives way to country, my thoughts turn to home again...
...He laughs and points to my clothes and face...
...In contrast to New York, buildings are not so tall as they are massive...
...It will make no difference," he says as we sit in one of Moscow's countless greasy cafes...
...The effect is overwhelming...
...Because the division between city and country is less gradual in the USSR than in the U. S., we suddenly find ourselves pulling into Moscow's Leningradsky Station...
...Where are you going, comrade...
...All other traffic stopped while the motorcade raced down specially marked lanes in the middle of the street...
...This," he murmurs, "is how people really live...
...His heavy blue eyes regard me calmly, no matter how lively our conversation, and he rarely changes the somber expression on his pale, Scandinavian face...
...Ironically, it is among these same taxisti that the cult of Stalin enjoys its greatest support...
...Before long I am attempting various twisting layups worthy of Dr...
Vol. 68 • November 1985 • No. 15
