So controversial

I get awfully amused listening to my foreign acquaintances sharing their impressions about Russia, and those are especially bright after the first visit, of course. I do have a chance to discuss this now and then - online, or when on trips, or walking new fellow-teachers (native speakers) around places, whatever. 

When saying "amused", I don't in the slightest degree imply any sort of laughing, or getting satisfaction from their bafflement (and oooh, they are baffled, that's for sure:-)), or any other sort of pleasing the devilish side of me (I do have it, don't you?) at their expense, no, nothing of the kind! What I mean is experiencing the genuine, childish somewhat perhaps, enjoyment getting an opportunity to have a look through another person's eyes at the moments that are too natural and familiar for my Russian self to give them any proper thinking.

So, impressions of Russia… They vary, of course, from person to person, owing to everyone perceiving things through their own prism of intellectual background, personal qualities, views they hold on this or that issue, all true, but I noticed there is one common comment underling all other ones and ranking first - "Russia is soooo controversial". 
Ancient well-kept buildings the noble once used to inhabit neighboring with run-down about to fall apart something resembling rather sheds than houses suitable for living in; Nevsky Prospect, the major artery of the second Russian city, branching off to peed and smelly slums bathing in litter; high-class pricey restaurants aimed at foreigners with the personnel hardly putting two English words together; luxurious jeeps and the ghosts from the soviet past - rusty tractors and Zhigulis with no more used four-digital square plates - all happily sharing one of central roads; stalls in the very heart of the city selling all imaginable cola-and-friends rubbish but not still water; magnificent and breathtaking Cathrine's Palace, one huge touristy bee-hive in the peak of the season, and embarrassed gentlemen standing in one queue with ladies to the same wc section, - to name only a few of the things my non-Russian pals found puzzling. Not appalling, not awful or hateful, just that word - puzzling.

Well, I have my eyes screwed in right and I do see them too, all those signs of the notorious Russian… erm, carelessness, let’s call it so. But I much prefer – and I know I’m far from being the only Russian with such an attitude - to tackle such peculiarities light-heartedly, a sort of, you know, "the amazing mixed with the ugly? what a great chance not to forget to appreciate the real Beauty! for when all is superb, one moment it becomes habitual and you forget even to take notice"; "no water here? a good reason to take a walk to find some, good for health!", "only one wc room? but one, not zero, right?"

And that’s more or less how I serve it to my startled companions, adding that we’re lucky living among all those discrepancies – they make life so much more interesting; you can’t possibly get bored when you have no idea what’s in store for you right round the corner, right? Well, it mostly intended as a joke, of course; I just prefer not to drill too deep into it. Even if I tried to, I’d surely fail, for however is it possible to give the verbal form to that whole world of difference between us and the rest of the globe?

Perhaps the reason is that, as that widely popularized theory runs, Russia’s being balanced between seemingly incompatible European and Asian extremes and, unable to evenly assimilate all she’s exposed to, there occur… well, certain gaps. Probably so. Be that as it may, we have our problems, yes. Things are not as smooth here as we would wish them to be, yes. The only thing that matters and that is of supreme importance is people’s belief to their country, people’s firm conviction that everything is going to be all right.

There are other things about us that frequently make me ponder, things of a different nature. Say, we scrupulously safe up for months, living not from hand to mouth perhaps but, still, on belts-tightening mode, just to let it all go down the drain in some ten-day summer paradise. We take out loans, get dug into debt up to ears just to throw a not-worse-than-others’ wedding party, or willingly accept a five-year monetary slavery just to impress neighbors with a new fancy car even daily maintaining of which is far beyond our means.

Such and similar things often make me think that one of the principles we unconsciously follow when going through life is the “live for today, never mind tomorrow” one. It is not even carelessness, it is something much deeper planted, something in our genes; it can’t be changed or cured. And I do know one thing for sure – rarely do we feel happier, more alive, complete and harmonious both inside and with the world around us than when soaking up not only the sun but the whole vibrating Universe on that at-the-back-of-beyond beach; or stepping over the threshold to that out-of-this-world flowery overpriced just-for-one-night hired fairytale hand in hand with our spouses and seeing our parents’ teary eyes and our friends jumping for joy; or turning off the music just to listen to the gentle murmur of the engine under the new polished metal hood; and all tomorrow’s fuss and burdens that are bound to fall down – we don’t give a straw about them now that we are on top of the world. Even thinking about them – to hell! In the best traditions of the classic Scarlett O’Hara’s “I’ll think about it tomorrow”.

May be it’s just because moderation and half-measures are the words we don’t know the meanings of? And, for that matter, don’t want to. It’s just the way we are. If we love, we love to the full. If we give, we leave nothing up the sleeve. If we hate, we hate with all our heart. If we fight, we fight to the last drop of blood. All or nothing.

So where do I stand now? Seems, exactly at the same position as Fyodor Tyutchev did some one hundred and fifty years ago...

Умом Россию не понять

Аршином общим не измерить

У ней особенная стать

В Россию можно только верить

which in my free translation goes “You can neither understand nor codify Russia. She is unique. You can only believe in her”...

We do believe.