Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, February 21, 1993 TAG: 9302220165
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: F-8 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By Karen Zautyk New York Daily News
DATELINE: MOSCOW LENGTH: Long
MOSCOW MOSAIC
Last Nov. 7, the anniversary of the Russian Revolution, the date on which Red Square had always been the site of massive rallies (you remember those: multitudes of smiling children, smiling athletes, nuclear missiles), Red Square was closed. Ostensibly for pavement repairs. Actually, to keep out some demonstrators. "Who's demonstrating?" a tourist asked a passerby. The Muscovite replied: "Damn Communists."Yes, fellow travelers, there have been some changes made in Moscow. Even a latter-day Rasputin would be loath to predict what might happen next. I can only give you some personal impressions from a brief visit.
Crossing a boulevard near the Kremlin, I glanced at a rather imposing building. Without being asked, my prescient Russian companion commented: "Lenin Museum. Free to public." (Pause) "No one goes."
The Kremlin is open to the public. Inside the 15th-century walls, you can wander through most of the 65 acres, visit the exquisitely beautiful cathedrals and tour the Armoury museum. See Catherine the Great's wedding dress (the woman had the waist of a Barbie doll). See her gowns from later years (how do you say "Deal-a-Meal" in Russian?). See the royal coaches. Crowns. Scepters. Thrones. Bejeweled icon-covers. Faberge eggs. (If its eggs are this spectacular, what does the bird itself look like?!)
Thank Lenin for ordering the preservation of this collection. The museum was kept not as a tribute to czarist conspicuous consumption but to the talents of the proletariat craftsmen.
At 1 a.m., there was a line of people standing in the snow across from a downtown hotel. I assumed they were waiting for a tram. They were not. They were selling things. Cigarettes. Candy. Shoes. Batteries. Anything that might bring a few rubles. Or hard currency.
The teen-agers who hawk fur hats, "designer" watches and who knows what speak impeccable English and are able instantly to figure the exchange-rate price in dollars, Deutsche marks, pounds and any combination thereof.
GUM, the state department store, now includes a Benetton's. And Galeries Lafayette.
Moscow has been described as gray. It is not. There are lovely examples of an architectural style called Moscow baroque - pastel yellow, blue, pink buildings, with white rococco frosting. There is also Stalin Gothic. Indescribably massive skyscrapers. Dramatic. Daunting. Spouting spires and spikes. Think of Godzilla as a hotel, and you'll get the idea.
Moscow has no private houses, I was told. And all I saw were apartment blocks. However, newspapers have started carrying an ad for something that looks suspiciously like an American-style townhouse. I do not know where they might be lurking. But I fear the worst. I would not be surprised to soon hear of "Glasnost Commons" or "Potemkin Village."
The Moscow Circus souvenir shop has no circus T-shirts. You can, however, get one that says "San Diego Sharks."
There's a have-your-photo-taken-with cardboard Gorbachev outside McDonald's. Slightly the worse for wear. Much like the real thing.
Across the street from the KGB's infamous Lubyanka prison is a monument: A huge marble base, topped by a small, rough-hewn object. On that base once stood a larger-than-life statue of Dzerzhinsky, founder of the secret police. The statue was toppled in 1991. In its place now? A simple wooden cross.
The exchange rate was 400 rubles to $1. (Now, it's almost 500.) A Metro (subway) ride costs one ruble. And, yes, the stations are like museums.
Above ground, there are electric trams - many now spiffed up with ads for Camel cigarettes - but they look tired. Their wheels look wobbly. These are the same trams Dr. Zhivago rode before he had his heart attack chasing Lara down the street. Still, they're safer than the automobiles, all of which travel at mach-1 and many of which appear ready to self-destruct. Cars always have the right of way. I suspect they just can't slow down. Parts are scarce.
For nightlife, you can try a casino. Or a disco. The one we went to had a $15 cover charge - almost a month's salary to the average Muscovite - and was filled with hookers, most of whom looked dreadfully bored.
Better to stick to recommended restaurants, many of which include floor shows and dancing. We had a fantastic time at one called the Spectrum, where the evening's entertainment began with regional folk music and ended with everyone singing along to "Let It Be."
You can spend an entire weekend at the Izmailovo flea market and not see it all. A lot of the goods are relics of the old system: Communist Party pins, medals, military uniforms, posters. An ideology is having a garage sale.
Outside St. Basil's Cathedral, paintings were being sold. I stopped to take a photo, and the artist scurried over.
"Buy," he said. "Only one dollar."
"Nyet," I said.
"OK," he said. "Two dollars!"
Damn capitalists.