Impressions of Tallinn and St PetersburgImpressions of Tallinn and St PetersburgArriving in Tallinn was like arriving in a third world country (until I went to St Petersburg and I realised that comparatively it is a prosperous country!). Their economy is much more stable than Russia's, being tied to the Deutsch mark but salaries are very low. For example, a doctor consults with, on average, 39 patients a day for 1 kroon per patient (that's about US$3 a day). Cost of living is cheap (by our standards) but not for locals with those wages. Some banks in Estonia went bankrupt about six months ago so it's a cash economy. Estonia is attempting to protect its currency by not accepting 'hard' (USD) currency for payment of goods/services.
The political situation is very tense. The Estonians are insisting that Russians in the country (about 30% of the population), even those born in Estonia and living there for generations, have to apply for Estonian citizenship. Estonians say that Russians need only apply and citizenship will be given to them immediately but the Russians are refusing to apply on principle. Russians, on the other hand, say that getting citizenship is not as easy as Estonians are claiming. The Russian military is still omnipresent but essentially powerless. However, its presence is resented by Estonians. The situation has the potential to be as volatile as Ireland or Yugoslavia.
The overnight train from Tallinn to St Petersburg (deluxe class) was not really worth more than the US$8 we paid for the fare! Still, what an experience! We were woken about 2:30 am at the Russian border and questioned by Russian customs. It was relatively painless, we'd heard horror stories of some people having to open all their baggage for inspection. It was a shock to arrive at Leningrad Station (one of the few remaining signs for 'Leningrad' rather than 'St Petersburg'), a crumbling concrete reminder of its former glory.
Jon, my American companion, and I had bought an 'independent package' of 3 nights accommodation and two half-day tours through ITS for US$534. The package included transfers to/from the St Petersburg hotel. We looked for an ITS representative at the station but no one in sight. Having heard about the dangers for independent travellers (assaults, robberies) in St Petersburg, we were nervous. I waited with the baggage while Jon looked around for a likely representative. Eventually, a scruffy individual emerged from a beat-up old Lada and casually approached me.
"Are you American?" he said.
"No," said I.
"Do you have reservations for the Oktiabrskaya Hotel?"
"No."
"I'm to take you to the Oktiabrskaya Hotel."
"No, you're not!" I said aggressively.
I asked for identification and he said he didn't have any with him. Jon returned while I was still giving him a hard time but, being American and more trusting, Jon was quite happy to believe the guy. As Jon pointed out, we didn't really have many other options and at least there were two of us, so reluctantly I got into the car. He was indeed the representative but hardly what one would expect. (Jon later checked and realised he'd misread the voucher - we were booked into the Oktiabrskaya Hotel _in_ St Petersburg, not the St Petersburg Hotel).
I checked my guidebook and it described the hotel as 'rock-bottom'. The hotel was dirty and dingy. Walking down the corridor was like walking on a springboard, the floor shifted and squeaked in protest. The service was surly and very few employees spoke English. However, the room was large and we had a private bathroom with hot water so we consoled ourselves that we could have done worse.
I had been warned that English is not widely spoken in Russia but I was confident I could manage with a phrase book and sign language. Hadn't I travelled alone throughout western Europe and much of eastern Europe? Mistaken confidence! After dropping our baggage we ventured out to find a cafe for lunch and what a culture shock! We had no idea where we were situated, couldn't read street signs, couldn't find anything looking like a cafe, couldn't find anyone who spoke English ... utter confusion. Finally we found someone who directed us to a 'hard currency' restaurant. I asked him how he was able to speak English so well.
"I learned it in 'spy school'. I used to work for the KGB."
"You are a spy?"
"I was. I'm a hippie now!."
We asked why we couldn't go to a restaurant and use our newly-acquired roubles and he explained that as foreigners we wouldn't be able to pay in roubles. This was our introduction to the two-tier economic and social structure in Russia - the locals and the foreigners. At 1000-1200 roubles to the American dollar I understand and support higher prices for tourists but the disparity is too great, a factor of 10 to 1000 between the two.
I invested half an hour in learning the Russian alphabet so that I could recognise vital signs like 'cafe', 'bank', 'souvenirs', 'post', etc. Even so, we realised we couldn't do this alone, so I called an email contact. Ruben (a Peruvian, now a Russian citizen) and his Russian wife Natalie met us at the hotel within half an hour. They were wonderful! They were our friends and guides for the next four days.
First, Natalie stopped at a vendor on the street to buy a bunch of tickets. A ticket (each worth about 1c) buys a ride on any bus, train or trolley. It's an honour system as one punches a ticket when getting on. The system works on peer pressure because everyone watches suspiciously until you punch your ticket.
Natalie and Ruben bought tickets for us for a concert that night (Tchaikowsky symphony and piano concerto) and a ballet (Sleeping Beauty) on the last night. As music is so much a part of Russian culture, tickets are relatively inexpensive to other goods. For Russians, the concert cost 40 roubles (~4 cents), the ballet 100 roubles, yet a cup of coffee can be as much as 200 roubles (20 cents). (For a tourist in a hard currency restaurant, a cup of coffee costs $3.50!) Unfortunately, it's becoming difficult for Russians to get into concerts/ballets because tickets are mostly bought in bulk by tourist agents for group tours or by locals who have the cash to buy them for 100 roubles and hawk them to tourists on the street for $10+ (10,000 roubles).
Accompanying the two-tier price structure is an hostility towards foreigners and something akin to a secret society for Russians. Russian cafes are inconspicuous - Natalie took us down a side alley to a closed door, she knocked and there was an exchange in Russian, then we were admitted. We had a 5 course meal - smoked salmon, salami and beet salad, caviar, champignons in cheese sauce, chicken kiev, dessert, vodka, cognac, coffee, all for the massive price of $8.00 for the total bill ($2.00 a head).
There are not the food shortages of a year ago in Russia now; there is plenty of food but Russians can't afford it. Inflation is around 17% per month although some items, e.g. milk, increased from 30 to 300 roubles overnight. The old custom of making an enormous profit on cigarettes and jeans in Russia is no longer possible. Russians don't want to buy, they can't afford to buy. Russians are selling, they line up on the streets and in the metro stations, selling anything from second-hand screw-drivers to puppies.
Shopping in Russia is an experience. To buy shoes, for example, one goes to a 'shopping arcade' where the shoes are displayed behind a glass barrier. A customer points to the shoes of interest and they are passed through a small opening, rather like an exchange bureau. The shoes are tried on in the corridor and passed back again. If the customer decides to buy, the price is written on a scrap of paper, the customer takes it to a cashier's office and pays for the item and gets the paper stamped, then takes the stamped slip back to the store assistant to pick up the item which in the meantime has been wrapped in brown paper. When buying multiple items an abacus is used to calculate the total amount!
Another interesting experience is catching a cab. There are registered cabs but these are used mostly by tourists and charged at tourist rates. When we needed a cab, Natalie had us all wait out of sight, she walked to the edge of the road and held out her hand. Immediately a car would stop, she'd negotiate and if dissatisfied would close the door and wave him off. Then repeat the process with the next two or three cars until she got a good rate. Then we'd come out of hiding and get in. These are regular Russians who own a car, are perhaps driving to an appointment and want to make a little extra money on the way. It is illegal but both drivers and passengers take a chance.
Despite the difficult time they are experiencing, Russians are optimistic. They love the 'freedom' and are convinced it will be better. But they are not 'free' - they can travel outside Russia but they can't afford to now. Some 'lucky' Russians with contacts in the West can negotiate itinerant work to supplement their income. There are Russian and Polish medical doctors who go to places like Norway to pick strawberries and make more than their year's salary in a few weeks. A lecturer in Russia earns 6,000 roubles ($6) a month, a full professor earns 20,000 roubles a month.
We were joined after the first day by a Scottish friend, Ken. On the last day the five of us went to a restaurant late at night for supper. After sitting awhile, a couple of tough looking guys came over and talked to Ruben and Natalie. Then Ruben said abruptly that we should leave. We followed meekly and Ruben explained as we walked on to another cafe that they were racketeers demanding 2,000 roubles per person just for the privilege of sitting in the restaurant. Apparently we had met some of the Russian 'mafia'. I asked Ruben what would have happened if we'd stayed and not paid and he said we'd have been beaten and/or stabbed. I wondered if the restaurant owner gets a commission on the extortion.
We went on to a bistro, had five bottles of vodka between five of us and a couple of musicians. We all had massive hangovers next day as Jon flew to Helsinki, I went on to Norway and Ken stayed in St Petersburg.
Ken decided after we left that he should make an effort to get his train ticket for the next day. His travel instructions said to present a voucher at the service desk of his hotel, and they would issue a ticket. Ha! The service desk in his hotel had never heard of such an arrangement, and sent him over to queue up at the service desk of the main building. They sent him off to reception, who told him to go and stand at the cashier's desk, who finally directed him to the service desk again. After an hour of playing musical queues, he got fed up, so went to the travel agents next to the hotel. They didn't understand what he was talking about either - however, there was a man in the queue who told him to go to the Moscow Hotel at the end of Nevsky Prospekt, who might give him a ticket. Around the back of that hotel, he found a door with a number of travel agents' stickers. In there, a woman at the "Intertrans" train ticket desk told him to go down the corridor (which had no lights or windows) and wait in room No. 113. He knocked on the door, went in, and found a man sitting on his side of the desk.
"Hello," Ken said.
"Hello," the man replied.
"Can you tell me where I am, please?" Ken asked.
"You're in room 113," he said, helpfully. "I don't know what you are
doing here, but I am waiting to pick up my train tickets. I came here
this morning, was sent away, came back again at 2:30, and I have been
waiting here now for over an hour."
They sat and waited together for about half an hour until a woman came in wearing what looked like one of Chairman Mao's work suits. She turned out to be one of the most helpful service person in the whole of St Petersburg. She took them through to a waiting room, gave them a cup of coffee, and had both out of there within 15 minutes, clutching an airline style ticket, seat reservation, platform number and directions to the station, all translated and hand-written in English.
Ken also had a bit of a problem with the border guard. He found it very odd that he had a currency form but no official stamp. He accused Ken of just filling in the details of what currency he'd brought in just before he left. He was right - that's what Ken had done but he wasn't going to admit it to him. The guard started to search Ken's bags. First, the guard found Ken's chicken toy, which seemed to convince the him that Ken wasn't a major-league smuggler. Then he found a casssette by the American band REM, so they talked about that for a while, and then he found a Scottish folk music tape, so they talked about Ken being Scottish for a while, and then he seemed to forget all about Ken's currency form, and went off to hassle somebody else.
Meanwhile, I was in the Land of the Midnight Sun ... Norway ... beautiful scenery, clean country, and sky-high prices.