Moscow Metro

I want to bring attention to the Moscow metro system. It is the most incredible subway system I have ever seen. There are twelve lines, and they sprawl over the city like a giant jellyfish. Every station has marble floors, chandeliers, and is impeccably clean. Most have artistic mosaics or reliefs on the walls, in the manner of ancient Greek sculptures or early Byzantine churches. Trains come about every three minutes in the off times—in rush hour, they come guaranteed every 45 seconds.

Even with such frequent trains, the wagons are always packed. It’s very noticeable that the city is larger than New York when rush hour hits and a steady stream of people flood the escalators, moving like an unending centipede.

Each metro station has escalators instead of stairs. The stations here are so far below ground that they double as bomb shelters (they are also so deep that 20,000 prisoners who were slave labor used to build the metro died due to complications with tunneling). Every metro ride has about a two minute escalator ride following it.

The whole metro system was Stalin’s love child. He spent millions of dollars on it when it was installed in 1932. It was called the “Underground Paradise of the Proletariat–”a much needed paradise, when most families lived in crowded communal apartments, were 8 – 15 families shared one bathroom and one kitchen. An effective propaganda measure, the metro was presented to the people as a gift from their government. Though the people usually lived in squalor, the government had given them the present of the metro, and the citizens were incredibly grateful.

The citizens of Moscow still have extreme pride in their metro. While riding it two days ago, one woman started chiding a drunk man who was sitting on the bench next to her. “In the 80s,” she said nostalgically, “People were respectful of the metro! No drunks allowed! No dirty shoes allowed! Now, everything goes.” This sort of nostalgia for the order of the Communist regime is common—the Communist past of the country is impossible to ignore. Almost every metro station has borders of intertwined scythes and hammers around its light fixtures, or red stars at the center of every stained glass window.

Also, everybody, absolutely everybody rides the metro here. In New York, taxis are popular, but here, they are unreliable and unsafe, so the metro serves all 11 million of Moscow’s residents, from the richest oil barons to the poorest pensioners. It gives an interesting mix on the morning commute, and each line has its specific riders. I live about 45 minutes from the university where I study. Each morning, my trek starts on the unassuming Sokolnicheskaya Linaya. But after five stops, I transfer to the Kolchestaya Linaya—the “circle” line that rings the center of the city and connects every line to the other. This line is always full of most traditional Muscovites imaginable: women in huge fur coats, completed with a fur hat; young Russian students on the cutting edge of Euro fashions (read: lots of metallic fabric, high heeled boots, and intense make up), and the old generation of babushkas who aggressively elbow their way to any possible seat.

I wanted to get some good pictures of the metro stations, but it’s illegal, and I’m not hoping to get arrested during my first weeks here in Moscow—maybe the day I fly out I’ll snap a couple shots.

Culture Shock?

Every one has prepared me for Culture Shock. It’s one of those Big Things, that parents, neighbors, and professors warn you about. The orientation that my program gave to us our first day in Moscow had an entire hour dedicated to the phenomenon. But here’s what’s most shocking to me: Moscow is uncannily similar to New York.

I was trying to wait until I had a great story before I posted on this blog. I was waiting for some climatic clash of cultures, a glorious fight scene between my stars-and-stripes American childhood and the post-Soviet megapolis into which I’ve been dropped. But it hasn’t happened yet. Instead of noticing how much differs between Moscow and New York, I’ve found myself tallying the things that the two cities share: Extensive subway systems. Continuous building renovations that force sidewalks to divert their paths. A rush hour on the metro that is so crowded it is frightening. So many museums it is hard to notice them. Huge pools of water every street corner, making each street crossing a grand jete. Looming apartment buildings. Exorbitant prices on drinks. Incessant honking on the streets.

I know that it’s still the first week that I’m here, and maybe eventually I’ll start absorbing how many people are wearing fur hats, the militisia uniforms which still resemble old Communist garb, and the weird flush buttons on every toilets. But right now, I’m just stuck on the similarities. Some of the other students on my program were describing Moscow as very Soviet, imposing, and gritty. I couldn’t really believe them, because the atmosphere of Moscow is so similar to that of New York, which is a lifelong member of the capitalist club of the USA. Here in Moscow, no one smiles at strangers on the metro. True. But, how many people grin continuously on the subway in New York? The culture of Moscow seems to primarily the culture of large cities. The Russian culture is simply frosting on this worldwide culture that is born in large cities.

Hello, My Name Is…

So, I’m still waiting to go back to school. Back to school? That’s not right. I’m still waiting to go to school for the first time. My name is Casey O’Malley, Columbia College 2010, and I’m going to Moscow, Russia, to study Russian Language for the semester. I have no idea what I’m getting myself in to, and right now as I am drowning amidst piles of sweaters, warm socks, and a buffet of winter hats, I feel like I may be missing the point.

Moscow is a crazy place–right now, it’s the most expensive city in the world, for the third year running. On average, things are 30% more expensive there than in New York City. Quite a difference from the assumption that Russians live on potatoes, borscht, and vodka, while living in a hovel on the frozen tundra. Right now, Moscow has legendary nightlife. Some describe as something of a wild west of the rich and famous.

But at the same time, Moscow is an incredibly old city and is drenched in historical importance. History disagrees with itself sometimes, but Moscow’s birth can be traced back to 1147. It’s changed a lot, but the site of Kremlin (where the government is centered) has been inhabited since the second millennium BC.

I am so excited to go and try and figure this place out. I’ll do what I can to try and explain the place in words, but in a city that is suffering its own identity crisis of new versus old, rich versus poor, and westernization versus “Old Russian,” it might be hard to make sense of it myself.