The Breaking of the Fellowship (5/12/2002)

"The world has changed... I feel it in the water... I feel it in the earth... I smell it in the air..."

Hi Everyone,

Behold Mother Russia. The world's largest land mass and history's greatest identity crisis. What is she? Peter the Great wanted a European -- he built his own Venice and lived in a Northern Versailles. Catherine the Great imported French Enlightenment and all but pushed out her national tongue. Is Russia European? Hard to fathom if 80% is in Asia. Asiatic, then? Again, hard to swallow if 97% of its coffers are in Europe. Is it modern? Argue what you will -- it touts a functioning nuclear arsenal but counts most provincial cash purchases on abaci. It is a world power that can't pave its roads. Average women earn 150% of men's salaries, and the feminists scream bloody murder to get them back into the house. Russia is indeed simultaneously Joe Gillis and Norma Desmond -- young, ambitious, and ready for anything the world is going to throw at it, but simultaneously a dying, forgotten relic of yesteryear. (heh heh -- "I am big! It's the free market economy that got small!").

And yes, Russia is big. Our Pskov trip put somewhat into perspective the true Russia -- not the aristocratic St. Petersburg or the arrogant, sprawling Moscow. The detachment of many Russians to their capitals is astounding, and one glance at the countryside confirms this. Russia is its immense landscapes -- rolling valleys, endless steppes, pristine rivers and sweeping, misty mountains. Terrorized by Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin, the countryside nevertheless possesses an inexplicable timelessness: It carries on as it always has, seemingly unaware and apathetic to Moscow's concentrated ring of power. In a related story, a Siberian village was "found" in 1991 that had never heard of Lenin, the Revolution, or even electricity.

"Russia is a mystery inside a riddle inside an enigma," commented Winston Churchill. The chap couldn't have been more accurate. Almost each city's main street remains adorned with a statue of Comrade Lenin. Though Westerners equate him with Mephistopheles, Russia's jury is still out. Some call him a light shining in darkness that the world failed to see, while others mull over why of all vodka joints in all the world did he have to wander into this one. Did he fail them? Did he know his "historically inevitable" proletariat rise never could have worked? Or did the workers fail him and did their pure laziness prevent the development of his land of socialist Mitch Buchannons? Although dwindling, the opinion "we failed because we didn't do what Lenin said" remains with old-time hardliners. On that note, though, Russian sociologists claim that America is also slowly heading toward Leninism -- not by revolution (as Russia tried) but by evolution. Think about it, "The history of society is one of class struggles..." Not that I agree, but it'sfood for thought.

Despite the shadow of its past, though, Russia is slowly inching toward western standards. Still, they're going to carry that weight a long time: Economists estimate that it would take Russia 15 years to reach Portugal's current standards, the EU's lowest. Nonetheless, it is crawling back. And you have to admire entrepreneurs who market beer that tastes like Mountain Dew.
As for me, preparing for departure hasn't been as easy as I thought it would. From experience I know that an exchange is never about the setting, but the people. And wish as one might, it's never all going to be the way it was. Let's face it: my group hails from all across the country, and there is no way that all 17 of us are going to be in the same city, much less the same room, again.
Call me a cynic, but it doesn't happen. Of course we'll keep contact with the ones we're closest to, but we'll always associate them with St. Petersburg. But the chances that more than two of us would be here at once are very low.

In other words, not fun. And the goodbyes aren't easy. So though I'm looking forward to seeing everyone at home, eating American food and driving on streets that don't give you a hernia, "parting is such sweet sorrow," and this ending is very, very bittersweet.

As for what I've learned, I don't know. Sure, there's all the book-stuff: Yes, my Russian has improved, though is far from fluent. Yes, I picked up a whole lot of cultural and historical tidbits that you don't get growing up in the West. I learned that communism is far from the root of all evil and that even in democracies can dictators come to power, particularly in times of economic or political chaos (case in point, until the Reichstag fire Hitler's rise to power was completely legal.)

But hey, it's over now. Thanks to everyone for all the help throughout the semester. I'll be back home in Boston tomorrow night around 8 p.m., barring delays. I look forward to seeing most of you again and shooting the breeze.

Poka!
Matt

"Grab your ticket and your suitcase,
Thunder's rollin' down this track.
You don't know where you're going now,
But you know you won't be back.
Darling if you're weary,
Lay your head upon my chest.
We'll take what we can carry
And we'll leave the rest.
Now big wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams,
Meet me in the land of hope and dreams..."
- Bruce "The New Jersey Pushkin" Springsteen