Capitalism in Russia

Change Please: Experiencing the Rise of Capitalism in Russia
By Catherine Skrzypinski, Freelance Writer

January 2008

For more than a decade, Russia has been dismantling communism and building Russian merchandise lines the shop windows at GUM. capitalism. However, there is a deep contradiction emerging as the Russian economy matures. On the one hand, Russians are embracing Western-style capitalism. But at the same time, the country is slipping back into a criminal-style capitalism that thrived during the times of the Soviet Union and the KGB.

The city that exemplifies this juxtaposition is St. Petersburg, long considered Russia's most opulent city. While I explored St. Petersburg, I felt like I was in a fairy tale. Even the literature written about St. Petersburg over the centuries describes it that way—skazka is Russian for fairy tale.

I was enchanted by St. Petersburg’s winding canals crisscrossing the streets and the colorful onion domes brightening the city. The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, a Russian orthodox church, does not look like it was the scene of a horrific massacre. At first glance, it looked a Disney castle to me.

But to truly enjoy what St. Petersburg had to offer, I needed some rubles.

When I finally found a bankomat, or a Russian cash machine, it would only spit out 500 ruble (approximately $20) notes. This did not make the Russians happy when I attempted to buy some mementos of my journey.

“Smaller bills!” vendors would demand, as I attempted to pay with a 500-ruble note. Ideally, the smaller bill desired was 10 rubles (about 40 cents).

For the most part, this is how the Russkies would act toward me. They weren't mean; they weren't nice—they were stoic. That's really the best word to describe the disposition of a post-Communist Russian.

I would shrug and slink off to the next store.

The next time I hit up the bankomat, I received a 1,000 (approximately $40) ruble note. I gasped. I only thought the oligarchs—modern-day Russian business tycoons—carried this amount of dosh in their wallets. Where in the world am I going to break this note down?

In the tourist shops, of course.

I gave the 1,000 ruble note in order to pay for postcards along Nevsky Prospect, Russia’s Fifth Avenue. The saleswoman didn't even bat an eye. After I thought about it a little more, it made sense. Besides the oligarchs, the tourists are the rich ones in Russia.

Even Nevsky Prospect itself was available to the highest bidder. Strolling along the impressive boulevard, I noticed that the street where the Stroganov Palace was located was sponsored by the Polish airline LOT.

A store exploits famous faces, from Hollywood Stars to World Dictators.

Just then, an oligarch in his Mercedes SUV nearly collided into a Soviet bus, filled with ordinary Russians clutching their groceries and praying for their lives.

In Moscow, Russia’s newfound capitalism is represented in its glittery casinos and outdoor markets. The lively and bustling Izmailovsky Souvenir Market is an absolute must-see for all visitors to Moscow. Most tourists come to the market for furry hats, nesting dolls and for the obligatory kitschy Soviet relic.

Stray dogs were roaming around everywhere, while I noticed an “entrepreneur” passed out on the sidewalk, reeking of vodka. Women wearing babushkas motioned at me to try on their fur coats.

Peering out of his porta-potty stall, a brooding, bearded young man shouted out in my direction as I walked into the market:

“Hey, beautiful! I love you!”

I’m not one to judge, but it appeared that some Russian businessmen are successful in hawking their wares out of a toilet.

My thoughts were interrupted by yet another aggressive salesman.

“Do you want some caviar?”

What? Caviar? A scheming Russian capitalist wearing a furry hat shoved a bunch of tin cans in my face. Behind him was another drunken Russkie petting his BEAR. Yes, bear.

In fact, the highest quality caviar in the world comes from the Caspian Sea, the largest landlocked body of water in the world bordered by Russia. But my Lonely Planet taught me to never buy caviar unless it is hermetically sealed.

“The caviar costs 200 rubles ($8). I’ll give it to you for 100 ($4).”

Well, he made the bargaining easy, but one glance at the salivating bear made me reconsider.

As my traveling companion Patra and I exited the market, an elder Russian greeted us: "Hello, Americans! McDonald's! Big Mac!"

The McDonald's in Red Square continues to attract tourists and locals.

This Muscovite has tremendous insight. Patra and I decided to have a McDonald's lunch during our final day in the Russian capital not only because we were having a Big Mac attack; we needed to take a bite out of history.

McDonald's opened its first Russian restaurant in Moscow in 1990, amid the turbulence of the Cold War. Back then, Russians waited several hours to experience this American icon. Although decried by some in Russia as an example of American cultural imperialism, it has since proven to be a successful venture.

It's amazing that the Soviet lines for McDonald's are still really long after 15 years. I would think it would be passé at this point. Perhaps it's a part of Russian teen culture to dine at the Golden Arches at Red Square. Not to mention all the brides and grooms taking their wedding photos in front of Mickey D's.

As I'm waiting for Patra and the Big Macs, I notice shoppers exiting Gosudarstvenny Universalny Magazin (GUM) in the distance, trying to balance their Louis Vuitton purses and their shopping bags. Once upon a time, GUM was a symbol of Soviet life, as Russians lined up inside the massive building for a loaf of bread. Nowadays, it’s a bastion of capitalism, with high-end shops clamoring for your attention and your rubles.

Nowadays, most of the Red Square skyline is dominated by cranes, as the city’s architecture is being transformed from Soviet squalor to trendy flats, boutique hotels and art galleries. Not only is capitalism transforming Muscovites themselves; it’s also changing the city’s landscape.

Patra finally returned with our Happy Meals.

"Russian girls look anorexic," she whispered, as she bit into a French fry.

"I don't know why," I responded. "After all, they have money for food now."

Life in modern-day Russia is far from "normal," to say the least. That's what my 10 days there taught me. While I'm truly intrigued by it all, deep down it seems that Russia is still struggling to adjust to its newfound capitalism.

**All photos by Catherine Skrzypinski