What a fascinating person. Actually, everyone we've encountered here has been fascinating. Not the least of whom, of course, are the Cross-Cultural Solutions staff: Nataliya, Asya, Sveta, Olga, Victor, Galina, Elena, Ludmilla . . . what a great team of caring, committed, and fun individuals. It's such a shame that CCS is closing the Russian operation down. Our speaker tonight agreed. She explained through photos and discussion all the work that they do, with the elderly and children. The social safety network here seems to be as challenged as it is the U.S., but not necessarily more so. And, what CCS has provided has helped tangibly to complement this network.
What is challenging to try to comprehend is how abruptly and completely the rules changed after 1991. It seems that many would assert that they were happier under Soviet communism. Getting shoved off the cliff into capitalism was jarring. As our speaker tonight explained, everyone went broke in the 90s, except for the oligarchs and their associates. In the hyper-inflation days that plagued Russia in the Yeltsin years, her monthly salary's purchasing power was enough to buy 1 kilo of butter. There were nights her son went to bed hungry. Talk about a harrowing free fall. Before, while there was only a single option for bread, milk, cars (which no one owned, and now it seems many do . . . based on the ubiquitous traffic jams I've witnessed), people felt that the government would take care of their needs. Even if only minimally. Our speaker said, for example, that if her husband (who is in his mid-70s) were asked what was the best time of his life, he'd answer the Stalin years. Even though people recognize now that Stalin butchered and starved millions of Russians, including much of the intelligentsia, there is nostalgia for the confidence that all would be taken care of by the government.
There apparently was also a civility engendered by mutual deprivation that has vanished in the pell mell dash into free market nirvana. Our speaker tonight, as well as my guide in St. Petersburg, both spoke of this phenomenon. People are more aggressive and less caring. It's a brave, new world indeed . . . filled with shopping malls and supermarkets jammed with every imaginable product, in a plethora of varieties and brands. And, as mentioned, a lot of Russian drivers jockeying for position on the roads. Though I would note that I've not witnessed road rage nor its predecessor, the honking horn, since being here. There is a level of patience and forbearance that Russians have developed in order to endure hardships that an American can barely imagine, which persists perceptibly. Maybe folks aren't as communal as they once were, but I have a strong sense that Russians will continue to look out for one another on a fundamental level. Maybe even more so than we do in the States.
I asked our speaker if she felt people in Russia today are optimistic. Her answer was no, and the reason is endemic corruption, which she likened to the lawless American Wild West. This is a perception that others have mentioned before, and it leads to a sense of frustration and futility that are corrosive. The other critical challenge, of course, is how to turn the population decrease tide. Our speaker outlined the incentives available to families that have a second child (or more). It's hard to encourage people to procreate more, when they're negative about their prospects. Still, this is a country with a great deal of pride and intellectual prowess. The challenges are enormous, but they're working their way through . . . it will be so interesting to see what the next 20 years will bring.
Okay, now back to that volunteering I mentioned I've been doing.
This week, thus far, I've been to the Hospital for Kids twice, back to the Boarding School, and this afternoon to the Leninsky Center to visit with the disabled citizens who the center serves (last week we visited the elderly who use the center). We did our best to build elves from blocks, pipe cleaners, construction paper, and assorted puffs of fabric. I'm afraid I was more a hindrance than a help, but the group I worked with seemed to appreciate the intent if not the caliber of my assistance. The whole group was charming, as you can see (my fellow volunteers are immediately to the right of me and they are Dorothy, Sally, and Natasha . . . all of whom actually were big helps with the execution of our craft projects):
The Hospital for Kids is a new placement for me this week. The children we work with probably range in ages from 6 to 10 years old. Some have physical, emotional, and/or cognitive issues. But all share an enthusiasm for welcoming volunteers. I made several fast friends yesterday, and they all came swarming to greet me today when we returned. In our previous visit we worked to build a Christmas tree by tracing the outline of our hands on white paper, cutting these out, and then decorating them with a green motif. After which we taped them to the wall, with fingers pointing down . . . representing the boughs of the tree. Today we made paper chains of various colors, and strung these across the wall on which the tree now resides. It all looked quite festive by the time we were done. Then we settled into the game playing phase of our visit.
We have a range of games, including several cards-related, Chutes and Ladders, Hi Ho the Cherry-O, Jenga, etc. A lot of the usual rules don't apply, as I've mentioned before, but we sort it out and have fun. Not a lot of currency is given as to who wins. It's truly all about how one plays the game!
The boys in the group have had a lot of fun at my expense, but all innocent fun. At this age and stage, they've not been tainted with cynicism or sarcasm. It's refreshing to be teased in a truly good-natured manner. For example, I was dubbed Peter Pan and Peter Parker the Spider Man. And, then later, Iron Man. I'll take being compared to Robert Downey, Jr.! One young guy, who was eager to show me his tattoos (which I take it are genuine, weirdly) and his notepads full of drawings (which were quite good), tried to teach me to rap in Russian. I couldn't rap in any language, but he and his companions did get me to a point where I could do a couple rhymes for a moment or two . . . kind of like a meteor of rap flashing across the stage and then flaming out. I'll be back on Thursday to try again for another rhyme or two!
My favorite placement remains the Boarding School. The kids there are exceptionally well behaved and sweet . . . and they LOVE my poetry! We met with a different class of 4th graders yesterday and, though I didn't have to write any poems on the spot this time, I was asked to read one of my poems. So, I did. I read "Last Testament" in English and Asya tried to interpret for me, which proved impossible. This was not due to any limitation in her abilities as an interpreter, of course. Rather, my poems are indecipherable in any language!
On the way out, a couple of the kids from last week's class saw us and came running over to say hello, including Pavel the Poet of Spider Man acclaim. I asked him if he'd translated the poem I wrote for him yet into Russian. He said not yet. So, I chided him that I needed to hear it in Russian before I leave. That way I can, at last, experience the indecipherability of my poetry firsthand!
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