Moscow News (Russia)
January 19, 2005
FEAR AND LOATHING IN MOSCOW
By Anna Arutunyan The Moscow News
UNPOLITICALLY INCORRECT
There seems to be a myth circulating around Moscow's service sector
that goes something to the effect of "raising your voice won't make
me do my job any faster."
I'm sorry to betray the ideals of good cheer and love for all mankind
so soon after Christmas, but try commuting in a crowded Moscow subway
in a fur coat when a thaw has taken hold outside and turned all those
magical snowflakes into dark brown liquid goo. That's when you start
to wonder: are Russians really rude, or is it just living in a
gigantic, sprawling megalopolis like Moscow, with a population
topping 11 million, that magically inserts a broomstick into the
posterior?
Russian rudeness, or russkoye khamstvo, has taken on the proportions
of a national attribute. Russian emigrants returning home recall it
with a masochistic nostalgia, and wax euphoric upon being cussed out
at the local cheburek stand for the first time in years.
And take that telling instance from the much-loved bastion of
national stereotypes, Mimino, a 1970's film about a warm-hearted
Georgian pilot trying his luck in cold-blooded Moscow. After being
stood-up twice by a would-be girlfriend just for sport, losing all
his money and even landing in prison, our Caucasus highlander still
tries to retain his sense of human decency, leaving his last kopecks
for a tip to the waiter at the airport.
"I don't need your change," she tells him off curtly.
There seems to be an unspoken rule in Moscow: don't try to be nice to
people it signals that you're trying to be better than they are. An
acquaintance of mine once helped out a store-clerk by picking up a
bunch of cans. The clerk, apparently shoc-ked by such unusual
behavior, muttered a forced "thank-you"... and demonstratively
ignored the customer afterwards. You know that bored look: eyes
rolled up contemplating her excessive mascara...
Maybe there's some truth to the stereotype after all. I haven't heard
a lot of foreigners complaining about Russian rudeness, but Russian
emigrants seem to flaunt the words russkoye khamstvo along with the
disclaimer: "you try living in such harsh conditions for a while, see
if that doesn't turn you into an animal."
Apart from rudeness, there's also a self-perpetuating cliche about
how hard it is to live in Russia, hence the khamstvo. If Russians
suddenly start being nice to everyone, that would mean that their
living conditions have improved. So to show everyone and themselves
how excruciatingly difficult their lives are, Russians are rude.
Granted, that's a pretty racist generalization. But, considering my
own mix of Russian and Armenian blood, I'll take this a step further.
You see, over the holidays I visited Armenia. Besides communism, this
tiny, landlocked, mountainous rock (something God dug out of his
pockets at the last minute, the Armenians say), has survived raids by
Tartars, Mongolians, and Turks, being conquered by Byzantines, and
Persians. and a genocide. Today, take a drive out of capital Yerevan,
and you're steeped in dire poverty. Some people still live without
electricity. There's no central heating. Ever.
That's pretty harsh.
But that didn't stop a cheery postal worker (I'm not making this up),
who was busy being flooded by a burst pipe from the second floor,
from wishing us a happy holiday and selling us two stamps one minute
after closing time.
What does it take to get a Moscow bank clerk complaining of buggy
computers as though it's your own fault to make a withdrawal during
office hours? Try raising your voice. Despite what the clerk tells
you, the raised voice seems to have a mysterious medicinal effect on
the computer system.
But on a kinder, gentler note, where else can you yell at a clerk and
then both laugh about it a minute later?MN
January 19, 2005
FEAR AND LOATHING IN MOSCOW
By Anna Arutunyan The Moscow News
UNPOLITICALLY INCORRECT
There seems to be a myth circulating around Moscow's service sector
that goes something to the effect of "raising your voice won't make
me do my job any faster."
I'm sorry to betray the ideals of good cheer and love for all mankind
so soon after Christmas, but try commuting in a crowded Moscow subway
in a fur coat when a thaw has taken hold outside and turned all those
magical snowflakes into dark brown liquid goo. That's when you start
to wonder: are Russians really rude, or is it just living in a
gigantic, sprawling megalopolis like Moscow, with a population
topping 11 million, that magically inserts a broomstick into the
posterior?
Russian rudeness, or russkoye khamstvo, has taken on the proportions
of a national attribute. Russian emigrants returning home recall it
with a masochistic nostalgia, and wax euphoric upon being cussed out
at the local cheburek stand for the first time in years.
And take that telling instance from the much-loved bastion of
national stereotypes, Mimino, a 1970's film about a warm-hearted
Georgian pilot trying his luck in cold-blooded Moscow. After being
stood-up twice by a would-be girlfriend just for sport, losing all
his money and even landing in prison, our Caucasus highlander still
tries to retain his sense of human decency, leaving his last kopecks
for a tip to the waiter at the airport.
"I don't need your change," she tells him off curtly.
There seems to be an unspoken rule in Moscow: don't try to be nice to
people it signals that you're trying to be better than they are. An
acquaintance of mine once helped out a store-clerk by picking up a
bunch of cans. The clerk, apparently shoc-ked by such unusual
behavior, muttered a forced "thank-you"... and demonstratively
ignored the customer afterwards. You know that bored look: eyes
rolled up contemplating her excessive mascara...
Maybe there's some truth to the stereotype after all. I haven't heard
a lot of foreigners complaining about Russian rudeness, but Russian
emigrants seem to flaunt the words russkoye khamstvo along with the
disclaimer: "you try living in such harsh conditions for a while, see
if that doesn't turn you into an animal."
Apart from rudeness, there's also a self-perpetuating cliche about
how hard it is to live in Russia, hence the khamstvo. If Russians
suddenly start being nice to everyone, that would mean that their
living conditions have improved. So to show everyone and themselves
how excruciatingly difficult their lives are, Russians are rude.
Granted, that's a pretty racist generalization. But, considering my
own mix of Russian and Armenian blood, I'll take this a step further.
You see, over the holidays I visited Armenia. Besides communism, this
tiny, landlocked, mountainous rock (something God dug out of his
pockets at the last minute, the Armenians say), has survived raids by
Tartars, Mongolians, and Turks, being conquered by Byzantines, and
Persians. and a genocide. Today, take a drive out of capital Yerevan,
and you're steeped in dire poverty. Some people still live without
electricity. There's no central heating. Ever.
That's pretty harsh.
But that didn't stop a cheery postal worker (I'm not making this up),
who was busy being flooded by a burst pipe from the second floor,
from wishing us a happy holiday and selling us two stamps one minute
after closing time.
What does it take to get a Moscow bank clerk complaining of buggy
computers as though it's your own fault to make a withdrawal during
office hours? Try raising your voice. Despite what the clerk tells
you, the raised voice seems to have a mysterious medicinal effect on
the computer system.
But on a kinder, gentler note, where else can you yell at a clerk and
then both laugh about it a minute later?MN