Viewing topic: Yoshkar-Ola, Republic of Mari El, Russia

An American students travelogue -

"In 2001 I was awarded a full scholarship for study abroad. Each year 100 students are awarded this grant by merits, to immerse themselves in a 3rd world country of their choosing. With western solvency provided, I was living like a king in the pits of provincial Russia. My one bedroom apartment rented for $50 a month, a beer costed fifty cents and lunch was less than a dollar. I could not burn my stipend fast enough before the next check arrived."

"Etched into my mind forever are the labyrinthine rows of colorless concrete boxes that three quarter’s of Yoshkar-Ola residents call home. Scattered between these high-rise tenements are one-family log cabins right of out of "Little House on the Prairie". Putrid smoke rises from their jagged chimneys, a resulting combustion of old tires and shoes beyond repair. This is in, mind you, a state capital of 300,000 people. Occasionally you will even find a rusty metal boot, salvaged from the container portion of an 18-wheeler, which is reincarnated to serve as a store or love nest.

Cars and Chinese moped contraptions hurtle down the mangled roads which look like they haven’t been paved in years. Vegetation is sparse, whatever seedlings manage to sprout in the post meltdown topsoil quickly turn into dust. There was no color in this wasteland, not even gray.

If ever I heard a foreigner complain of the blighted conditions, I suggested without reservation they pack up and leave. The chewed surroundings and grizzle faced people are a time capsule that represents poverty America once knew. We should observe but never complain or interfere."

"Miles outside the dead zone of city center, green forest emerges, but is devoid of fauna. Even after two years living in Yoshkar-Ola I had not once seen a wild animal, not even road kill. Villagers sick of their cabbage and potatoes diet shoot any critter that moves, which is promptly roasted or pickled. Not even crows or pigeons are safe. These prized delicacies escape extinction through Darwin’s selection by cleverly hiding in the most downtown areas, where townsfolk are not brazen enough to open up on full auto. Rabid packs of wild dogs wander unabashed through the central park, occupying scarce benches reserved for the homeless. Grannies buy scrapped chicken heads at the bazaar and pass time by flinging them toward the foam mouthed snapping mutts, akin to the way our own seniors toss breadcrumbs."

"Russians are by far the toughest and most grizzled race of people I had encountered in Eastern Europe. They can survive -40F winters subsisting solely on cabbage and vodka. Nothing can beat these people, not a nuclear war, nor a plague.

The average salary is only $100 a month, yet prices on western amenities are no cheaper than in America. How they scrape by is a mystery to every foreigner who has lived here. Despite these adversities Russia continues to churn out brilliant scientists, Olympic medallists and promiscuous girls.

Stroll down any pre-fab sidewalk in Yoshkar-Ola and you will see nothing but angry and constipated faces. This for me was a refreshing change from the super-smiley "how ya doin?" USA.

Women don't expect much from men, but are unselfishly willing to give up everything for the American equivalent of trailer park stability. Being practical is taught from a very early age. In their mind if you have a job and an apartment extra curricular activities can be forgiven.

Instead of filing for divorce to end a loveless marriage, a middle aged aquaintance of mine brought home his 18 year old mistress while wifey was cooking dinner. She stared down the blonde waif and squawked, "Who the hell is this?". He casually replied, "This is my girlfriend, the three of us are going to live together like a happy family".

I've spent quite a bit of the last eight or nine years planning to visit Yoshkar-Ola: after all, it's only two hours journey by bus from Cheboksary where my wife lives and where I live whenever pressing financial need doesn't oblige me to live elsewhere in Russia (Cheboksary, by the way, is the most beautiful small city in Russia, perhaps in Europe, but it's well off the beaten track, and I'm happy to keep it hidden, despite president Fyordorov's attempts to turn it into a tourist Mecca). What's stopped me from going has been my wife's persistent refusal to go there. Y-O is, she maintains with the indeflectable logic of someone who's never been there despite living all her life in such close proximity to it, a boring, dirty and unpleasant place. Well, the latest edition of Rossiskaya Gazeta has a big spread on Y-O in the tourism section, expounding on such attractions as the newly pedestrianised shopping centre (which they compare to the Old Arbat), museums, theme parks, etc. Good, I thought, now here is something I can use to support my bid to organise a day trip to Y-O, and I showed the article to my wife. "Nu vot ya skazala!" she exclaimed triumphantly. " Tam nichevo ne interyesno!" Result: Y-O seems destined to remain, for me, as inaccessible as Shangri-La. But If anyone out there has been to Y-O recently, I'd be interested in reading your opinion.