Let’s start the new week start with a song that takes us somewhere in the world: I came across this fascinating article about songs from Russia but not in Russian*, and have decided to make a series out of it.
We’re starting our journey in Yakutia and I’m quoting the article:
In addition to Russian, people in the Siberian region of Yakutia speak the Yakut language. The young singer Ulyana Sergucheva, a.k.a. Kyunney, will make you want to dance with her cheerful song “Cheeke” (“Like, cool” in Yakut). She sings: “Since that moment you’ll be dancing in the Cheeke rhythm. Since that moment your heart will beat in this atmosphere.“ And bit of trivia: After the video came out, the funny guy with green mustache became very popular in Yakutia and even starred in a local movie!
*in Russian language, the word for Russian (language, ethnicity: русский) is different from the word for Russian (federal country, nationality: российский). That makes better sense than in English!
Create your own post every Monday and title it The Monday travel song: xxx by xxx
Include a link to a song (YouTube link or other)
It must be a song which is linked to a geography. For example, a Russian song, a Chinese song, a Scottish song… (it can be from your own country every now and then, but remember the purpose is to get others to virtually travel!)
Your post doesn’t have to be long, but do tell us a little bit about the song… for example by telling about the lyrics, about the composer, about the style…
Include a link to my own Monday travel song in your post tag it “Monday-travel-song” so others can find it too
The bromance of the Caucasus that unites Kadyrov and Putin is something you cannot miss when strolling around the streets of Chechen towns. It is the visible part of a strong political effort to create a national sentiment, in the context of the post-war reconstruction of Chechnya.
This national sentiment is very much centred around Islam. It is no coincidence that the first building that the government erected in the then war-destroyed capital Grozny, was a great mosque.
And it is no coincidence that this great mosque bears the name of the previous leader Akhmad Kadyrov, and was opened during a ceremony that Putin attended.
A very impressive and beautiful mosque, now in the middle of a super modern district with skyscrapers, gardens, and a few cafes and restaurants.
And as this great mosque’s prioritisation for the post-war reconstruction manifests, Islam is a serious matter in Chechnya. Almost all men have beards (our host Alik was one of the few who don’t), almost all women wear hejab (albeit sometimes with high heels and make up; but it’s still modest clothing), there is no alcohol available, and the 5 daily prayers are observed by everyone.
All of that sponsored by the government and with the benevolence of the Russian Federation as partner; and with a strong personality cult for Akhmad Kadyrov, because what better way to contain religious fundamentalism than creating a competitive passion for another hero than God?
I was very pleased to realize I’m not the only one. First, because it’s always pleasant to meet like-minded people. Second, because I write a blog, so it’s comforting to know there’s an audience for my Lenin statue related silliness.
And finally, because this other fan of Lenin statues has committed to a true public interest task: an inventory of all the past and existing Lenin statues; more comprehensive than a Wikipedia list, and with pictures. A daunting but oh so useful challenge!
Follow them and you may well see some of my own Lenin statues pictures that they are reposting!
PS I’ve been looking for a word to say “statue-mania”. Greek is often a good source for this sort of word creation, and I looked for the Greek word for ‘statue’ hoping to simply combine it with ‘philia’.
Alas, the perversion of human beings is such that agalmatophilia, literally the liking of statues, is commonly used (apparently) to describe a perverse practice involving sex and a statue, doll or mannequin.
I wanted to make sure you do grasp the irony in my love of Lenin statues, so I resorted to another Greek-based neologism around the idea of statues, glyptos – glyptophilia.
I can totally relate to the author sharing how afraid she is of asking people for portraits, and how she resorted to taking pictures of faceless portraits captured as they are, just one in the crowd.
My dual love of people watching and of photography means that I often enjoy sitting somewhere and catching a glimpse of people as they go about their daily lives, sometimes making visual memories when the setting pleases my eye.
Rather than a face in the crowd though, introvert that I am, I like to isolate people and show them alone in their environment, as if they were not just busy on their activities, but also absorbed in their thoughts.
I have visited Chechnya during a trip in North Caucasus early September 2017. I arrived in Grozny from Vladikavkaz with my travel mate Igor, and left back to the West to Pyatigorsk whilst Igor was pushing further East.
Why just 24 hours? Serendipity more than strategy. I was on a schedule, keen to keep enough time for my next stop Pyatigorsk, and Igor was keen to reach Dagestan as soon as possible. And possibly, my mum would be happy if I didn’t stay too long.
For Chechnya has acquired quite a reputation in the media through the years. But forget about the media and let me tell you my totally different impression.
In Grozny, we were hosted by Alik, friendly and curious father of 2 kids, who turned very instrumental in helping us make the most out of our short time. We found him on Couchsurfing after sending dozens of requests.
The Chechen hospitality reminded me a lot of Uzbekistan or Iran; we were definitely in that part of the world. Hosts love taking care of guests, and feel in charge of them.
Alik fed us, gave us a roof and a bed, a Wifi access, and made sure we were comfortable. He introduced us to his family, drove us around, and told us many things about Grozny, including what happened to his family’s house during the war: it was occupied by Russian soldiers, who during winter burnt the family’s piano to keep warm.
Alik knows someone who knows someone, and that’s how we managed to access the rooftop of the highest building in Grozny, a 40-storey tall skyscraper with 360 views on the Chechen capital. The side of the rooftop that offers views to the Presidential palace is off limits though: none is allowed to stand there, for it wouldn’t be too hard from there to aim and cause trouble to the dictator-president.
It was very amusing how, on the morning of departure, Alik found me a ride and ‘handed me over’ to a bus driver who then fell in charge of me. When our bus reached Pyatigorsk, the driver (who was further driving to Cherkessk) wished me good luck and to meet in Chechnya again.
In 24 hours in Chechnya I have met nothing but friendly people and a relaxed atmosphere!
Stay tuned for the next part of my impressions of Chechnya: Islam, patriotism and propaganda.
So much that I’ve had to remind myself: what is it that I actually enjoyed about Moscow 5-10 years ago?
Moscow was wild and crazy; really wild, and really crazy.
It’s a giant city with so many people. It can get so crowded. I’ve always been impressed by the hordes of beautiful girls from the entire Federation who invade Moscow looking for a job and a decent boyfriend.
Moscow is a city that never sleeps, with coffeeshops and sushi bars open 24 hours everywhere (and they all do serve alcohol in Russia).
At the time, everything looked like this in Moscow: roadworks, inconvenient passage for pedestrians, messy streets. Today, all of this has disappeared and given room for a livable urban space.At the time, you couldn’t see more than 2 meters away in Moscow, because there was always something in the way: a kiosk, a wasteland or building site that had been there forever, or any other, abandoned-looking mess.
And whilst I like much better the new airy Moscow, I did enjoy the sense of mystery and discovery that old Moscow provided. Nothing was every acquired there, you had to go and look for it.
Wandering around Moscow was somewhat a challenge, and challenges excite me. Navigation was difficult, everything was in Cyrillic, you would struggle finding things, you would get lost and constantly have to figure things out.
I enjoyed the process of figuring out, and I enjoyed creating my workarounds, and I enjoyed feeling initiated. Sometimes I was showing international travellers around, and I enjoyed sharing my experience and initiating others to Moscow’s wildness.
I also enjoyed that I didn’t always figure out. For example I’ve never known where and how to buy a tram ticket. Every time I’ve used a tram in old Moscow, I’ve crawled under the gate and travelled without paying. (In new, transformed Moscow, there’s a unified system for public transportation which you can use with a digital card called Troika. I finally can pay for my tram rides!)
In old Moscow, everything was a fight or a struggle, and I admit I kind of like that; at least when I travel…
And what I liked most in old Moscow, which luckily so far has been untouched by the transformation, is the sensorial exoticism.
Exoticism of the language. More and more people speak English in Moscow, but Russian will remain the dominant language for a long time.
Exoticism of the dresses in winter. I have spent hours sitting in the metro just to observe the parade of Russians in their winter costumes, with the furs, and the assorted hats; it is priceless.
Exoticism of the materials. Sensorially, Moscow is extreme, full of contrasts, and rich of sensations that one doesn’t often have the opportunity to experience so intensely. All Russia is like this, but Moscow is a concentration of these sensations.
The fur of a coat;
the rusty metal of a door and the polished one of a gas pipe;
the sturdy stone of the Stalin-era skyscrapers and the delicate glass of the new capitalistic ones;
the shiny golden dome of a church;
the pastel colour of an old house;
the grey of the Brejnevkas and the little irritating music that plays when you open their front doors;
the whisper of a feminine voice that says hello in a hiss;
the sensorial pleasures of Russian banya;
the sweet sensation of Soviet ice cream melting on the tongue;
the shivers when visiting the Gulag museum;
the extreme temperatures of course;
and how I’ve never understood how Russian girls keep beautiful straight hair in winter whilst mine is all electrical and untidy.
The imaginativeness of the snow-removing machines in winter. The parade of the water-spraying trucks in summer.
Finally, wandering around Moscow is like a treasure hunt, with Soviet symbols hidden and scattered throughout the city. Hammers and sickles, Lenin heads, Soviet statues, can be found everywhere and add a surrealistic touch to the overall urban landscape.
Oh, I loved these things 8 years ago; they’ve made Moscow so intriguing to me and an endless discovery. And luckily, most of them stay true even in transformed Moscow, making it such a wonderful place to visit today.
Do me a favour: if you’ve visited Moscow in the past 15 years and hated it, do reconsider and give it a new chance.